Tis' the season to trash talk your family.

I love Christmas. I will always love Christmas (short of an axe murder on the holiday). I know the suicide rate peaks at this time of year, and my family is as if not more crazy as most. The sights and the smells and the family make it impossible for me not to love this holiday. I'm not that big a fan of getting presents. I mean I like giving them a whole lot more. I put a lot of thought into presents usually. I want things to be perfect, so getting presents is always a little disappointing, because no one is as into giving as I am. I don't ask people what they want. I use prior conversations, their interests, and inside jokes as my inspiration, and I seem to be the only one. I'm not complaining just noting.

My family all have dinner Christmas Eve and brunch on Christmas day. I love this tradition. I love getting my whole family together, period. There are only seven of us (this is my immediate family, grandmother, and aunt & uncle). This year every time someone said something just a little to ridiculous they had to hold the tissue paper from the presents, because as a kid I was insane and invented games based around tissue paper. At least I was inventive, right? Hey, you didn't have to play them. My mother and brother would hide from me.


My best friend, her mother, and I went to see Sherlock Holmes which was phenomenal. I strongly recommend this movie. It's cool, it's intriguing, and come on Jude Law is cute. They clearly set-up for a sequel as well, so that's something to look forward to.


Oh, and my birthday is fast approaching, and you know I can't pass up a chance to be the center of attention. I'll be twenty. Isn't that just exciting? Merry xmas, even if it is almost over.

Have I mention that I love Christmas?

It's xmas time in the city, so I'm going to talk about my dog.

My face itches. There is a point to that statement. I need some better face moisturizers, because the one I have doesn't do a sufficient enough job, yet it makes me break out. It is the best of no worlds on my face right now, and it doesn't make me happy.

While I'm home for the Christmas break (probably the first time I spelled that out in years), I let my dog sleep in my bed. I love the dog. I do. He just has a tendency to wake me up at a decent hour and the college kid in me does not like that at all. It is really difficult to sleep when a ten pound dog starts walking around your head and sticking his nose in your face. I've been trying to teach him the concept of personal space, but alas he is a dog. Someone might want to tell my mom that, because she treats the dog like her third (favorite) child. You don't heat up dog food or hand feed the dog, especially if after spending four years with you he will be coming to my house. He will be considered lucky if he gets wet dog food at my house.

I tend to like to talk about my dog. I apologize. It sort of happens that way. I know animals aren't humans. They cannot compare to children, but he is the closest thing I have to a child, so sometimes I think of him along the same lines.  

I love xmas by the way. I love it more than most people. In fact, xmas would need a restraining order against me if it were a person, but  I like my dog more.

I have recently re-read all the files of writing on my computer. There is a ton more scribbled in notebooks hidden from the world's eyes, that I don't even want to think about. I found a story that I wrote three or four years ago that I always loved for the most part, which is rare for me. I hate the ending, but I never know how to end things. I just write until I get bored and then stop or if I'm feeling the story has run its course I kill someone off. I have several unfinished novels that have the potential to be good, but this story I read it and I want other people to love it too. I also want someone to help me fix it, but I can never find anyone that ever seems interested enough to pick through it. I also have a chronic fear of people judging me more harshly than I have already judged myself.

Anywho, this story has taken over my free thinking space. I don't have a lot at the moment seeing as how I'm in exam week. I need to find an editor. I had a friend once that I would have actually trusted with this crazy task, because her life's goal was to become an editor, but there has been bad blood, and now I only have friends that don't even like to read. I mean I can coerce some people into reading my stuff, but they usually just give out those superficial comments about plot points, and I need someone to give me criticism I can work with.

My dad reads all my term papers and school stuff to fix my grammar, but I need a substance person.

I need to make more friends for practical purposes I suppose. Oh and I need a human spell check to slap me around a little, because I cannot spell to save my life. Hmmm.