I am on the mend, at least now I can say that I am trying

Christmas was excellent. I received all manner of loot, but per thablueguy's injunction I will not actually be enumerating it. This is due partially to fear of reprisal and partially to the fact that, while his policy was clearly laid out in anger, I happen to think its a sound one. Anyway. The loot is keen and I am happy with it, but I am happier to have spent a few days with my family, most notably my three charming sisters and my parents' unspeakably adorable dog. I re-learned to play Hearts because my sister Sarah is a touch obsessed with it at the moment, and discovered startlingly that once past some initial rustiness I was able to hold my own.

I'm always surprised when playing a game that involves any level of strategy if I turn out to be not terrible at it. I like games and I find game theory and its various applications endlessly fascinating, but I have trouble keeping track of details in my head. Therefore I am generally completely awful at games that require said skill, which seems to be nearly all of them. I enjoy playing the games anyway, for the social aspect, and because my lack of focus on the game tends to make me a force of chaos in a manner that tends to aggravate clever or even competent players, who are actually capable of knowing that whatever move I've just made is wholly idiotic. And generally their aggravation is more entertaining than the game itself could possibly be, at least for someone like me.

But in playing Hearts it was actually Sarah who had this problem more often than I, possibly because the games generally didn't even get started until the wee small hours of the night. The first game I played, though I was mostly busy trying to remember the incredibly simple rules of the game, it was hard not to notice the way she completely screwed my brother-in-law Wilson. Or rather it was hard for me not to notice; it was apparently hard enough for her, as she was oblivious until he pointed it out with no small annoyance. It is of course possible her ignorance was a ploy, but it seemed genuine enough. Which did not so much excuse her utterly hosing Wilson only a few tricks into the first hand. Apparently plays need not be perceived as deliberate in order to be devastating.

Of course the absolute master of that particular technique turned out to be my younger sister Allison. She is without question the snarkiest person in the family, providing endless hours of entertainment in the form of a non-stop stream of demeaning sarcasm, in amount directly proportionate to her level of affection for her target. Which is to say that she spent almost the entirety of my time at home mercilessly making fun of me, my sisters, my brother-in-law and my parents. And then promptly demanding that we hug her on command, because she is after all the baby and we are therefore obligated to love her. Her volleys varied in style from dry wit delivered completely deadpan to entirely bizarre irreverence. This trash-talk, when combined with her usual manner of singing whatever song or referencing whatever bit of pop culture happens to be on her mind at that particular moment, resulted in a wholly distracting and seemingly constant stream of patter that both demoralized and distracted her fellow Hearts players and disguised her actual skill level.

And also kept me laughing and smiling, even as I was forced to slaughter her hopes and dreams of actually once winning this new and supposedly fun game we keep making her play. What can I say? I am not without pity, but I actually don't suck at late-night three-player Hearts. How could I even dream of showing mercy?