I didn't know!

So apparently Linens N Things is like riding a really hellish, exhausting bike. I did about three katrillion returns, met a man named Cletus, and sold forty spatulas to a woman who WAS Madame Medusa from The Rescuers, complete with malfunctioning false eyelashes. It's fine though because LNT did not schedule me for New Year's eve, bless them.

The Family Stone is not as good the second time around. King Kong is, though. I probably should have paced myself better with these December movies, that way I wouldn't be so compelled to see them multiple times.

To quote Billy Mac, Christmas is all around me. Or at least it was. I love it love it love it. Every second of it. I was very very lucky and came into posession of Final Cut Pro, which happens to weigh about fifty pounds, go figure. I haven't actually opened it yet, but I'm guessing the weight comes from the instruction manual. Lordy. One day soon I will become pro.

I need to start applying for sick internships so that I can go to Los Angeles and begin my new chosen career, which is a creative director/writer/producer/editor/ continuity director/coffee maker for a televison show as bitchin as LOST.

Could happen.

Tomorrow I must watch Daisy Do America and play in Boston.

Crickets.

Nothing says Christmas like a visiting foot long iguana/alligator named Dolores and her box full of "food" aka live, chirping crickets.

Who names an iguana Dolores? Who domesticates iguanas?

Repulsive. I guess it could be worse. Adrienne could have volunteered to babysit the HISSING COCKROACHES over break. Um. What the hell?

DOESN'T ANYONE JUST HAVE GUNIEA PIGS ANYMORE?

ARE YOU READY TO BURN?

Christmas Break is weird because everyone reconvenes and for three weeks or so, it's like none of us ever left. The only difference is that barely anyone can drive anywhere anymore, due to removal of insurance or brothers who hog the car to go to high school. So we're all home, just sometimes stranded, which makes us resourceful. Like pioneers in covered wagons.

One thing we have that pioneers did not is Mari and her fat burning regime, Windsor Pilates. Or Roll on America (.99 Wednesdays, ya heard?). Or ghastly season finales of Nip/Tuck.

Oh yeah, just as a little heads up...New Years/Yankee Swap '05 shall be mint, fresh, boss AND bitchin'. What's that sound? Oh, I do believe it's Celine Dion's mystical voice beckoning, even begging to play a role in Swap again. Okay, Celine. Okay.

Perhaps I shouldn't get ahead of myself. 

Christmas is magnifique.

"I just saw both of your lives flash before my eyes." - Eleanor

Today's Metro could not say enough about King Kong, and even went so far as to call it...

..."The next Titanic"?!

Woah, woah woah. Hello, hefty claim.

But I thought about it, and I suppose it's entirely possible, based on visual effects being ahead of their time...and length, of course. And I think I spotted a breathtaking sunset in the trailer.

My list for vacation is longer than my list of things to do BEFORE vacation, although my before vacation list is slightly less entertaining.

But nothing is as entertaining as harassing a Factory full of restaurant patrons with stories about the President of BU's arm stub with fingers at the end, followed by the really unsubtle flirtations of two 30+ out of towners, who, two feet away from the entrance of the Westin were smooth enough to open with "Do you girls know where the Westin is" and proceed to ask us if we wanted to come in for "martinis", followed by a ride home serenaded by Bob Carlisle and his damn Christmas Shoes, followed by Secret Santa Christmas Riverway style...we almost kept it a secret.

Tonight is the first night of the Pinocchio Study, Natalie's and my research project to learn once and for all if our noses actually DO grow at night, or if they just APPEAR to be larger in the morning. Nobody has EVER done this before, and if there is a change, we're calling MIT. 

I bet the martini guys would be shocked if they ever found out. 

I'm really glad I saved up all my excused absences for the end of the semester.

"All I want for Christmas is you"...oh yeah, and a draft snake to press up against the freaking window so that the 14 degree winds will stop wafting over my sleeping body and I can go back to sleeping sans pantalones. Or at least sans 16 layers of clothing.

Liz and I took a shot of TheraFlu, which was an instant, if nauseating pick me up. She feels good enough to run a marathon. I, however, have never known such health.

Ah well, I really really love it.