A Racially Tolerant Christmas

Yes, indeed, 'twas not a white Christmas. But it's okay, because despite what my statistics class may say, I'm no racist! In fact, the weather's quite nice.
(But seriously, hurry up and get some snow flying! The skiing stinks and I want nothing less than 18 feet of fresh powder next time I hit the slopes).

And in other news, can I be super cliché and unoriginal and talk about what I got from dear ol' Saint Nick? I promise I won't ramble (though this promise may be subject to change, knowing me, because a lot of times I think that I'm going to just say something concisely and then I end up talking about it for way longer than I really need to and totally boring people and using a lot more words than are necessarily necessary. So I won't do that this time).

Um, if you're still with me, congrats. AND, guess what? I got some very special, magical things  yesterday.

#1: Algernon. Algernon is a beautiful, shiny, wonderful water bottle. His name is Algernon because I like the name Algernon. Algernon.

#2: Granny socks. These are officially known as "crew socks", but that is irrelevant. These lovely little foot garments reach up to mid-calf range and come in a variety of patterns including solids, stripes, and polka dots. You may snicker at my excitement, but you just don't appreciate the beauty of these little babies.

#3: Pyrex bowls to prepare for my future or something. Huh. Well. It's seriously a good thing someone else thought of that, because I definitely didn't.

#4: Gum, Nutri-Grain bars, chocolate, and a variety of other necessities of life. You can thank Santa for the fact that I'm alive in the coming year.

#5: A ski pass. Okay, I have to admit I cheated on this one. I kinda sorta got it before Christmas. But only barely, okay? Put the pitchforks away and just accept the fact that I got my biggest present early and you didn't. Ha. Ha.

Ah what am I carrying on about? I haven't even mentioned the honest to goodness best part of my Christmas!
The very very hands down most fabulous part of my Christmas was 2 little international phone calls. Yep, both of my older brothers have taken 2-year breaks from sitting on my face and taunting me about boys to serve LDS missions. A 40 minute call from Brazil, and just over an hour from Hong Kong. I miss those boys. Well, men. Actually, they're more like somewhere in between. Moys? Yeah, I miss those moys. And talking to them was simply bodacious. 

I hope you're having happy holidays and stuff or whatever, and I wish you success in bathroom-scale-avoidance at least until next week. And a final holiday message to family, friends, and neighbors everywhere:

STOP FEEDING ME!