Christmas Eve was the best ever. According to Dad, I say "best ever" about a lot of things, but this was actually the case: straight-down snow; "O Holy Night" at midnight mass; lobsters for dinner; writing; celery and conversation at the holiday party I've been to every year of my life but twice.
I don't know what Christmases will look like in the future--where I'll be traveling from or how much time I'll have to be home--but if this was going to be the last of the traditional ones, it was everything I could have asked for.
Also, of course, the Christmas Day/Boxing Day visit by Beer 'n' Cheese. Now I know all about George Sanders' rumba lessons.

Also I just wrote twenty pages of my senior thesis in two days. My brain is mush.

I keep looping "O Holy Night" to get myself in the mood for Winter Break. (I know once I get home it'll be "Christmas Baby Please Come Home" 24/7, and rightly so.) I know I'm hardly the only one to say that this is my favorite Christmas carol, or that it gives me chills (for real), or that it makes me want to cry, but it's all true.
I think the chances are good that there will be snow while I'm home.



I recommend against actually watching this--the outfits and facial expressions kind of weird me out--but navigate to another page and listen.

Happy Birthday to Me!

So far today I have: gone to prison, gone to class, picked up The Cake, commiserated with Ha Ha over hilarious e-mail gaffe, gotten fortunetelling ape card in the mail, opened froomie presents with froomies while eating said Cake and listening to The Killers, rolled around on the floor as a result of one such present, gone with froomies to Mehek where we ate delicious Indian food and got thoroughly confused over the bill (the economist and the financial engineer figured it out eventually), responded to dozens of facebook/e-mail greetings.

And it continues. Free massages and facials on the horizon! Yo ho!