We made it to Alabama safe and sound. We spent today at my grandma's house doing the Christmas thing and all. Then we went shopping with my sister. Afterward we watched Napoleon Dynamite at a friend's house. And to all of you who have been insisting that we see it, yes it was pretty funny, and no, you didn't completely ruin it for us. Hope everyone had a great Christmas.

Since it's Christmastime and all, I've been thinking a lot about Santa Claus. I'm sure he was first invented by people trying to emphasize the tradition of giving on Christmas, which goes back to the magi presenting the gifts before the Christ Child. Now-a-days we know good ole St Nic not so much in the form of "giving" per se but we know more of a Capitalist Santa Claus encouraging the spirit of consumerism. Yet, is this really why we've retained the jolly fellow? I personally think that this mystical figure continues to be the identifying factor of Christmas—not so much because of consumerism—because parents use him as a tool to make their children behave.

You better watch out,
You better not cry,
You better not pout,
I'm telling you why:

Santa Claus is coming to town!

He's making a list,
He's checking it twice,
He's gonna find out
who's naughty or nice.

See! You better behave kiddies or else the omniscient Santa will gyp you off on Christmas morning!

Hooray, it's Christmas Eve-Eve. It won't be long now until we're flying to Alabama. We just have to finish up working today, work half a day tomorrow, and then we're going to north Orange County to celebrate Chrimus and spend the night at Brandon's dad's so that he can drive us to the airport all early in the morning. Exciting, no? Very exciting indeed.

Guess who waited 'til the last second to do most of her Christmas shopping? Das right! Me. But it's not entirely my fault. December feels like it'll never get here, and I feel like I'm contributing to bringing Christmas into November if I buy gifts early. Then December hits, and BOOM. It's the week of Christmas. It doesn't help that finals take up most of your time until the weekend before the gift-giving should take place. But I shouldn't complain. I'm happy to be in school and slowly moving up on in this here world. And the Christmas thing will work itself out, it always seems to anyway.

I don't claim to be a great driver. For that purpose, I have my usual "Omigosh, I'm so sorry" face for when I make stupid mistakes on the road -er, not that it's that often. But here's what really annoys me: when people give me an exasperated look on the road when whatever happened is their fault. I got that look yesterday in the parking lot. I had the right of way, yet this lady was about to plow into me. So I slammed on breaks, and looked up to get a "you are the devil" look from her. Also, last month when I was with my brother-in-law driving through the Brea promenade, some idiot decided to cross the road without pushing the button that signals the lovely blinking lights so that the drivers know not to run over the pedestrians (it's actually supposed to be a normal street). I stopped for her, but since I came kinda close, she gave me that same "you are the devil" look even though her stupidity caused the mess.

So I decided since I have an "omigosh, I'm so sorry" face, I should have an "I'm not sorry, this is all your fault!" face as well. It should have cartoonishly slanted, mean eyebrows and maybe some fangs. Sort of like Jupiter (see below). Yes, that would do quite nicely.

This is the second time this has happened in 24 hours. I show up for something, and no one else does, and I'm left with this eerie feeling that I've either forgotten what day it is or that whatever I showed up for has been cancelled. Last night it happened with finals (most of my class - yes, including my teacher - was 20 minutes late. Or something like that). Now I'm at work, and I'm the only one here. Lol, you pagans and rapture-naysayers out there let me know if we've been "left behind." ;)

For the record, my manager walked in just as I finished typing that. And he's pre-trib. It's all good.

I sent Brandon to the pharmacy to get my monthly supply of medicine yesterday. Since I have epilepsy, it's always a hassle to keep up on my medication and all, so it was nice of him to do that errand for me. However, when it came time to take my medicine last night, there was no medicine to be found. We searched high and low, and finally decided we'd find it in the morning. Morning came, and we searched his car. He noticed that a white bag from Wendy's was in the car - one that he thought he'd thrown away.

Turns out my sweet husband had actually bought my medicine, went to Wendy's, eaten, and then brought my medicine bag inside and thrown it directly into the trash. Guess his underlying resentment toward medical costs has finally surfaced. At least the medicine was okay. The once white bag was icky, but the pills were fine.

Brandon gave me "A Charlie Brown Christmas" DVD as my first Christmas present today. That's such a cool gift because he knows how I miss watching the tape of it I have at home in Alabama - the one that's nearly worn out, so all the characters sound possessed. We tried to think of some way we could mess with the tracking so that we could slow it down so it'll sound the same, but I just don't know if it can be matched. It's cool, though, cuz it's always good for nostalgia.

I'm just getting over a stomach virus. In the last three days, I've eaten nothing but saltine crackers and half a salad. If I keep this up, I'll start looking like a real Californian. Well... minus the tan and layers of makeup. Ah well.

After registering for the majority of next semester's classes, I panicked and changed the day/time for my English class simply to get a different teacher. Why, you ask? Ratemyprofessors.com got me all paranoid. Before, I'd consult the site and take the recommendations that students had given on professors with a grain of salt, assuming that many of the students had been lazy or were trying to get their teacher back for a bad grade.

But last semester I ignored the ratings on one of my professors and signed up for the class, and I spent the whole semester regretting it. I look at the rating now, and it fits her completely. So after I saw a big blue sad face next to my future English teacher, I quickly dropped her and added the teacher with a nice yellow smiley face. She has a tamale, too, but that doesn't do me any good. Perhaps the students are biased, but I don't want to have another harpy teacher. I need at least a semester to heal.

Wendy's so silly. She called me at work from home as she's studying the dreaded subject of Astronomy. Because of her fear of planets she was in limbo between coming to work, here, and studying with me, or staying home. She's simply too afraid of the pictures of the planets. In other news, I found a cool website providing Elizabethan insults for all thou loggerheaded sheep-biting wagtails reading this blog.

Postscript: I don't know what she's so afraid of.

So this post inspired me to write about how Brandon taught me to start using my horn. When I first came to California, I was pretty much afraid to honk. I figured that if I honked out here at some one for cutting me off, they would take out their rifle of choice and shoot me. The cops would chase them down, but after learning that I'd honked, they'd shrug it off and simply say, "Out of towner."

But, Brandon taught me otherwise. He sees honking the horn not as a privilege, but as a responsibility. As a good vehicle-operating citizen, you're supposed to honk at those who are driving like idiots. How else will they know? Laying on the horn for a few seconds might make the errant person say, "Hey, maybe I should get off this phone, save my dinner until I get home and stay off the median." Or at least embarrass them enough to stop them from running over you with their SUV. Either one will do.

Brandon and I tried that new Pepsi Holiday Spice. He described it best when he said that it's like, "drinking pepsi while eating a piece of Big Red." The verdict? Buy something you know you like.