23/10/2001 - 10:45 p.m.

Jingle Jingle Jingle

It's 60 days left until Christmas! That means less than 60 days left until Christmas holidays! That means about 40 actual days of school left! That's like, oh, six weeks. Well, that's a little anitclimatic, but hey, that's better than 100 days til Christmas.

I'm not so much a fan of Christmas as a religious holiday, but I do like that whole three feet of snow, 20 degree weather (remember, this is Iowa I'm on about), everybody trying to be lovely to each other, television specials, decorations, and all the secular stuff. I even enjoy shopping at Christmas time. Yes, they're the most crowded they are all year, and you're in a big coat sweating to death in a line, but everything's all Christmasy and pretty and happy. It's that lovey sort of feeling that I really like, I guess. Let's hope it's not like Christmas in first grade, when Christmas specials were inturrupted by Desert Storm garbage.

I'm a huge sucker for sending out cards, though, just wait. Christmas is going to be expensive this year. Too many lovely people out there, and I don't want to leave anybody out... Hmmm, it'll be free e-cards this year! (Well, maybe...)

There is no reason for me to get all excited about Christmas, though. It's the worst time ever, really. My family takes the time to get together to discover that yes, they all do hate each other (but it takes 12 hours to realise that), and by New Year's no one speaks to anyone else without starting an argument. Now, that's overdoing it a bit, but man, it's hell. So, really, I like my own rose tinted ideals about Christmas.

OK, that was brought on by an announcement on the television about snow in the next few weeks (we usually get a piddly little bit between Halloween and Thanksgiving, and then you don't see grass from December until March), followed by an announcment that Christmas was about 60 days away. I can only think back to maybe one "green Christmas" (why not call it brown and have done with it?).

I finished my Oedipus paper, I don't know my lines for the One Act, because I forgot my script in my locker, I screwed up my math test, and I survived a nasty glue gun burn (big deal, I tried to melt my skin off), my thumb still hurts from where I bashed it with the hammer last week- well, only when I play with it. A Fish Called Wanda isn't as good a movie as I'd hoped, but it's OK. Nobody sent me e-mail today. Now that I finally get a chance to answer it- no mail. You all suck.

Well, that would be the bulk of anything I have to say. I wasn't whingey at all today. I'm rather proud of myself on that account. I must be really really tired. (And I have to start functioning at 6:45 tomorrow morning.)