getting over it

I am too full. But I suppose, every dull blog on the internet will be saying something similar, so i'll try to go off in tangents. (If you try to go off in a tangent, is it still a tangent, or is it your main line of thinking?)
Lately, i've been carrying around a small, black leatherbound notebook that I write in random things I think of in a purple pen. I occasional rip little scraps out of this book and leave them places where I think they'll help. At least, that's the hope of the idea anyway. But today, I found out that one of the pieces Was read, and Did help, and I can't help but feel a small amount of warmth in my chest because of it.
I don't consider myself an especially nice sort of person. If you're wearing an ugly shirt, i'll most likely laugh before trying to lie. But I do like to do little things that (I hope) make up for my strange personality. Like yesterday, the last shopping day before christmas, I drove around the CBD, (it was crazily packed with cars), just letting people get out of their carparks when they got stuck because nobody would let them get out. I got so many waves and thank you's thrown onto the breeze out their windows.
Today, I was driven to a few different places by my sister and her fiance, and there was a kid in the car next to me crying. On Christmas, tears were running down his chubby little cheeks. And he looked over at me, and I couldn't help but try to make him smile. And, for a moment at least, it worked. But that's all life is really, isn't it? A string of moments?
Anyway, so, a friend asked me if i'd been good or bad this year, and when considering the question, I decided to think that i'm not so bad, even if I do grin when you iron creases in your jeans, or wear bling that makes MC Hammer look underdressed.

oh, and I didn't get rotten potatoes. So santa must agree with me at least a little. *winks*