Twas the night before Christmas...

And everyone around was still digesting the epic Italian feast. Seriously epic AND Italian. Two words that aren't normally synonymous with my Christmas Eve plans, but this year was unique for many reasons. First of all, this is my first Christmas that I have not been living at home. So in that sense it is a huge deal for me. Second, my family from VA came up for the Holiday weekend. I used to see them every summer when I was younger, but gradually as time and other commitments take its course we saw less and less of each other. Of late though, we have been keeping in contact more and more. Cousin Jon came up this past 4th of July and I made the DC bound-trek twice this past year. And been able to chat with Michelle via the Information Superhighway. It's good: Family is an important bond, which I hope to always appreciate and have. Lastly, dinner and such was held at my parent's house. It's usually always at my Uncle's across the way, but we are having Christmas day there. I'm glad we changed it up. Maybe it's the burgeoning homeowner in me, but I enjoyed having people over to entertain. The groundwork for the majestic housewarming party is underway. Come January...

But along with the good comes the bad. Everyone was here to take part in the revelry, save my cousin B. What can I say: he's in his moody teenager, "I hate my parents/world, but I can drive their car and live in their house" stage. But I guess not too long ago (ten-eleven years or so, EEEEK) I was too.

I preface you with this: it's not the shopping and mass commercialism that killed the Christmas spirit it's the parking.

Taking Christmas spirit and my sense of masochism to the next level I decided to venture out the Mall today. On Christmas Eve: HOTT. I was done with all of my shopping, but lending a helping hand to dad who's been swamped at work of late and who usually needs a helping hand when it comes to getting his shopping done. But I don't mind, mom deserves that and much more to say the least.

Anyways back to the Mall on Christmas Eve. The fact that I wasn't pressing for last minute shopping blunders relieved me. I was able to dart to and fro without being encumbered by the bulk of a bags/parcels. I was also able to take in the "American Splendor" of it all. Mass consumerism at its finest. The kicker was the line for the mall gift cards being 4-times as long as the line for the pictures with Santa pick. But when Santa is obviously some middle-aged skinny guy wearing a cheap polyester Santa beard... well kids are smarter than we think sometimes.