It's over already? Really? I haven't even had time to sink into my post-Christmas despair. It'll come. Until then, I'll sink back into my cozy new computer chair and listen to the new music I bought on iTunes with my gift cards. Ah, iTunes, I do love you. Please don't judge me for purchasing not only the new Britney album, but also Katy Perry. I don't even know myself anymore.
I hate Katy Perry.
In my defense, they both make excellent additions to my running playlist.
Santa was good to me this year, and I'm quite appreciative of that. Plus, my sister and I both made it home, despite all the snow, so Christmas wasn't foiled after all.
We sisters had some bonding time at Wal-Mart, and in my parent's bathroom playing beauty parlor. It's amazing what a little eyeliner can do for both the eyes and a familial relationship.
We also tried our hands at snow-blowing, and it's really not as simple as it looks. How many people does it take to both start and operate a snow-blower? Well, it took two, a few shrieks and a disheveled snow-blow job.
(... snow-blow job? Did I just type that?)
But the job got done, and dad, you're welcome.
Christmas morning was a flurry of wrapping paper, bows, squeals and new toys, as it has been for the past 26 years. I'd really have it no other way. I feel I've grown some. I mean, there was a pizza slicer in my stocking, and I was audibly excited about that. Also about my new lamp and computer chair.
But I think I threw all that grown-up crap out the window when I opened my 2009 "Twilight" calendar, and spent an hour-and-a-half reading my new copy of Twilight: The Complete Illustrated Movie Companion.
Being a grown-up is so overrated.
That afternoon my parents and I went to see "Marley & Me," and then we spent the subsequent three hours in tears.
Has anyone seen that movie yet? I read the book. It was good-ish. But I did not cry. The movie on the other hand, holy shit. HOLY SHIT. Tears. Muffled sobs. I'm not even joking. That was intense. And it wasn't just me. The entire theater was weeping in unison.
Even as I walked out of the theater as the credits rolled, I could not STOP. I'm all, "Oh, what? It's over? SOB."
If that movie does not invoke some emotion in you, you either have no soul or have never loved a dog.
So now Christmas is over. One more year 'til we do it again. Man, that's depressing. And who knows what the hell kind of year it'll be.
At least Katy Perry will be so last year by then...