Annual xmas report from dad's house:

The house is even more different that last year: the deck has been repaired and painted, the yard dotted with flowery evidence of a Sears catalogue. The downstairs den is all old-style France and daybeds with quilts on them. My old room has been lifted of carpet with hard wood floors and painted gery-green, porcelin dolls lining a cabinet that holds dishes never to be eaten upon. All the rooms still feel cold, no matter how many ancient blankets you're under.

Watching A Christmas Story with dad and Jen made me wonder about why I hate christmas so much--used to a be a blast when you're a kid, everything was surreal and glowing. As an adult working in retail, you see all the tricks of the trade, and it's no longer madical and family-oriented; just business and money and making others happy. What a shame that things should end this way! The gaudiness of christmas is a huge let-down. But there is still one that that stops me in awe each year: well-done christmas lights.

Graduation has come and gone, but I have no idea yet if I even really passed--we are allowed to walk in the ceremony, but degrees don't get mailed out until three weeks post graduation. Therefor, if professors have not posted senior grabs, no one can clarify passing a course. Thus, my delimma--did I pass? Did I not? Fuuuuuck.

And now, as I wait my fate, it's vacation time--time to try and get some rest, eat sleeping pills, travel where I'm gaurenteed a place to stay, and keep working.

Time for bed.

Merry whatever. Keep yourselves up, and keep your heads off your shoulders. I will do my best to do the same.