:: Chris on Christmas ::

"You ever filled a stocking before? It feels like I just spent about $120 on absolutely nothing. I wish I was marrying a Jew." - text message I received today from my brother.

:: That personal touch ::

I like getting Christmas cards - which is weird, because I never actually send any out myself. I guess I'm just selfish that way. But the thing about them is that, because usually people are sending out numerous cards at once, the writing inside is pretty standard, boiler-plate stuff.

Dear so-and-so,

Merry Christmas and have a happy New Year,

From,
Somebody

Now don't get me wrong - these types of cards are still great, and I appreciate the thought immensely (even when they are addressed to somebody else) but sometimes there's a card that just rises above all the rest. This year, that card was from Meghan.

First off, on the cover of the card was a cartoon picture of a house, with Christmas lights on the roof spelling the word "Free Beer" and then trailing into an arrow, which pointed to the chimney. The cartoon's caption was "One sure-fire way to get on Santa's nice list."

Sometimes a card just speaks to you, what can I say.

On the inside, Meghan wrote:

"Nick, way to go and get laid and get a hot girlfriend this year, and still manage to rant about everything. Merry Christmas and best wishes for the New Year to come :)"

If ever a card could sum up my 2009, this would probably be it.

:: I appreciate this kind of honesty today ::

"I feel like it's a huge waste of time for me to be here." - co-worker from another department, not shy about expressing her opinion on being back to work after Christmas.

Funny, usually it's me complaining loudly and showing off my poor attitude. I think I'm rubbing off on people.

That said, she's absolutely right. Less than half of our employees are working today. Two-thirds of the managers have left early. We have all day tomorrow to finish the projects we're "working on" today, and I've been trying – honest to God, trying - to find things to do, simply to alleviate the boredom. But it's all for naught.

This is even worse than working Christmas Eve, because there's no office wine and nothing to look forward to.

:: Pao and Jerome ::

I have lived at my current address for four-and-a-half years. For the first two years, I continously received mail that was addressed to the home's previous owners. For about a year, I forwarded or returned-to-sender as much of it as I could. But after that, I just left most it. I mean, if you can't be bothered to change your address at your own bank or tell your relatives where you now live, well, that's not my problem.

But for the last couple years, it's mostly stopped, with the exception of a few non-important flyer-typer pieces of mail. This week, however, I checked the mailbox and found a Christmas card addressed to James and Shannon, coming from a North Vancouver address. 

In any other year, because it's a Christmas card, I probably would've done the return to sender thing, but, like I said, it's been more than four damn years. Enough is enough.

So not only did I not forward it, or return it, I kept it.

It's mine now.

Now, a lovely snowman-shaped card is sitting on my mantle with the rest of my other Christmas cards (you know, the ones that actually have my name on 'em), from a North Vancouver couple named Pao and Jerome.

I like it because – just judging by their names – it adds a nice bit of ethnic flavour to our Christmas card collection. Christene thinks it's a gay couple, but I'm on the fence – I have no clue is Pao is a male or female name. 

Either way, it sure was awfully nice of them to think of us this holiday season.

:: Batting stats and flamethrowers ::

"This is great. I'm batting one-hundred here." - random woman at Superstore tonight.

I didn't have the heart to tell her that batting .100 is actually piss poor ("Gregg Zaun," according to Chris) and that she probably meant "batting one-thousand." Instead, I simply took small satisfaction that, in this instance, I was much smarter than her and carried on with my shopping.

Also, tonight I was sorting through my list of blog posts (700 and counting!) and found about 8 drafts - basically, posts on a variety of subjects that were in some form of completion, from paragraph upon paragraph to simply a half sentence or a title. One of them was even from 2005.

None of them were publishable, but I did find one quote from Meghan from 2007 (I think) that I thought I would salvage and publish here, considering we are smack in the middle of holiday mayhem. Maybe it did get printed in another post, but maybe not. Either way, it seems fitting.

"Christmas shopping would be far more acceptable if I was allowed to fight through the crowds with a flamethrower and had a constant IV hookup of Ativan. Or Moonshine."

I whole-heartedly concur. (I really could've used that flamethrower last weekend at Best Buy when I watched from about 60 yards away as some middle-aged assbag decided to launch his empty shopping cart randomly through the parking lot. Of course it smashed into the back of my parked truck. Of course I yelled the shit out of him. Nothing more came of it because he ran away. Probably for the best.)

:: How to get fat and stay that way ::

With Christmas officially less than a month away, now is the time you'll start seeing all kinds of Christmas-related magazine and newspaper articles, and watch all types of holiday-themed segments on TV. Over the past few years – as America gets fatter and fatter, and people's hearts get more cholester-ific by the day – the one story I've seen with increasing regularity is the one telling people how to avoid gaining weight during Christmastime.

"Stay thin for the holidays!" magazine covers shout from the checkout stand at Safeway.

or, "How to keep Christmas Dinner healthy!"

Listen. Nobody wants Christmas dinner to be healthy. That's not how it works. It's supposed to be fucking terrible for you. Thirty-pound Butterball basted in its own fattening fat. Enough gravy to float a sailboat on. Wine up the wazoo. Eggnog. And as much pie, cookies and Christmas pudding as you can god damn handle.

If the Christmas Day comes where I find myself eating Tofurkey and eating nothing but beans, brussel sprouts (editor's note: Blegh!) and some sort of vegan dessert (Sorry, Tina), well, that's the day I put on a yarmulke, change my last name to Greenowitz and start learning all the words to The Hanukah Song.

Look, I know it's easy to gain weight over the holidays – God knows I have in previous Decembers. And while I don't necessarily want to gain weight this time around (mostly because I've spent the last 7 weeks losing weight....down 15 pounds, thanks for asking) I've come to grips with the fact that it will likely happen.

And if it's going to happen to me, it damn well better happen to the rest of you, too. So with that in mind, I present to you the antithesis of all those stupid magazine covers:

10 Simple solutions for packing on holiday pounds:

1. Invent a fourth meal. Got some days off over the holidays? Great - good for you! Now, with all the holiday hubbub – shopping, baking, wrapping presents, visiting – you are going to want to make the most of your days off. Therefore, you probably won't be sleeping much. And since you will be awake likely 20% more than usual, you'll need to eat 20% more food. I suggest you go with the new meal, Slupper – which is held daily between dinner and sleep. Suggested traditional Slupper fare: leftover pie; large sandwiches; corn chips; bacon; candy canes.

2. Make as many trips to Starbucks as possible. Ignore the fact that Starbucks is constantly filled with pretentious douchebags, and forget that "tall" is actually "small." And also disregard that fact that even the cheapest coffee costs approximately $14 plus a required donation to help some African school's music society. The good thing about this place is that A) Decorations and atmosphere-wise, Starbucks is always Christmassed the Fuck Out. And by going there, it will get you – or keep you – in a cheery, holiday mood. And that's good. And B) Pretty much every drink or baked good there will run you about 900 calories. Go ahead, order two.

3. Two words: Egg. Nog.

4. Three words: Chocolate. Egg. Nog. I mean, seriously. Sometimes you see a product and it seems as though it's been created just for you. God Bless you, Huge Faceless Grocery Conglomerate. God Bless us, everyone.

5. Leave the carrots for the reindeer. Have you ever seen a reindeer? They're fucking enormous. Let them be healthy – they're much bigger than you, tubbo.

6. At all times, ensure that you are full of Christmas cheer. And by Christmas cheer, I mean booze. Lots and lots of delicious booze.

7. Eat Christmas baking with every single meal. Butter tarts. Sugar cookies. Nanaimo bars. Those peanut butter-marshmallow squares everybody loves. Be sure to eat at least one for dessert after lunch, dinner and Slupper. And I know there technically shouldn't be any dessert after breakfast, so if you must stand by that rule, I suggest simply substituting any of the above desserts for your Oak Flakes or Fibre 1. C'mon, breakfast is no time to fuck around – it's the most important meal of the day.

8. Gravy. Is what you are eating dripping in gravy? Can it be?

9. Leftovers. This one usually goes without saying – there's usually plenty of leftover turkey, ham, duck or goose at any holiday meal. And if your family is anything like my family, there are going to be leftovers. Every. Single. Time. And around 8 or 9 p.m., when things are winding down, somebody's Grandma (hopefully yours, or else who the hell is that woman in the kitchen?) will walk out into the family room and ask: "Who wants leftovers to take home?" You do. You want them. Always. And if you have a big family and end up attending more than one of these events, well, all the better.

10. Don't move. Try to get as little exercise as possible. Family going caroling in the neighbourhood? That's nice, but there's probably a football game on. Going ice-skating? Oh, you better go on without me – I've got presents to wrap. And sure, you could get up off the couch to grab another beer, or take the empty plate to the kitchen which has been resting on your enormous gut for the last two periods of the hockey game, but your house is full of people during Christmas! Don't you have some gullible little cousin who you can con into doing it for you? (Suggested method: "C'mon kid. I'll time you!") Or if you don't have a cousin present, I suggest finding your sweet, old grandmother or great aunt – you know, the one you only see twice a year – and getting her to do it. Usually, they're so happy to see their sweet, kind grandson/nephew that they'll offer to do your dirty work without you even having to ask.

So, there you have it. Go ahead and get fat. You don't have to thank me – although if you want to send me some cookies, I won't turn 'em down.

:: Missing Christmas ::

An Abbotsford basketball team was trapped in San Francisco for 3 days, and very nearly had to spend Christmas at the San Fran International Airport Duty Free Shoppe.

Kelsey missed her connecting flight to Kelowna, which actually worked out fine for her, but likely fucked a number of other people, who then couldn't get another flight until after Christmas.

54,000 people were stranded at Chicago's O'Hare Airport as of last night.

And then, these are the Facebook statuses of people I know:

Amanda S. is really upset we had to turn around because of the frickin' snow. Sorry Mom and Dad :( (For the record, this morning her name said "... is so excited to spend Christmas with her family)"

T. is spending Xmas snowed in with Captain Morgan

J. is hoping I can somehow make it through the snow to get home in time

Alyssa is missing out on everything today because she's trapped

Kristine is stuck at home

Sean is snowed in

Jenna is snowed in and cold and trying to get her car from out of the middle of the street

C. missed her flight

Still lovin' that white stuff, folks?

Oh, and when I used to glance out my balcony door, I used to be able to see the townhouses across the road. Now, I see this:

For the record, although I've complained about the snow a lot this week, and got my car stuck more than few times, which then leads to a new personal record for how many times I can yell "Fuck!" in a 10 minute span, I don't mind the snow so much today because a) It kept me home from work, and b) I don't have to really drive anywhere for the next 3 days.

I just think it's sad that it's fucked up so many people's Christmases so far.

Merry Christmas, guys. May your day be filled with plenty of holiday spirit(s).

"Hello Nick! How was....whatever it was you were doing, before you came here?" - Sean

"If Brad is a testament to everthing that Christmas stands for, then fuck Christmas!" - Scott, after some shitfaced/weird waitress at The Duke, came over to us, literally crying her eyes out, and proceeded to tell us how great a person Brad was, because he'd "been through Hell" and was a "testament to blah blah blah."

The speech, and the whole situation, was probably the most awkward/ridiculous public speech/moment any of us had witnessed in quite some time. Apparently, this stupid old broad had got it in her head that Brad's car accident - which was what, 13 years ago? - was a result of drunk driving, so she a) gave a speech about the merits of not driving drunk and b) proceeded to turn B-Rad into the epitome of hard work, determination, and all-round good guy-ery. Basically, if you'd have listen to this woman, you'd be under the impression now that it's not Jesus whom we celebrate on Dec. 25, it's Brad Fucking Gorski. Same person, apparently.

Now don't get me wrong, Brad is a standup guy, but he's still a douchebag, and in no conceivable way was deserving of any kind of tribute. No more than anybody else we know, anyhow. And certainly not one that involved actual, real tears from a complete stranger.

So in conclusion, we all like Brad, but we don't like drunk-ass old waitresses. Also, Libya is a land of peace and contrast.

Oh, by the way - Merry Christmas. For those of you coming to the annual Christmas Night drinkathon, I'll see you in a couple days. As usual, we'll celebrate the birth of Jesus by drinking Budweiser and playing darts. I can think of no better tribute. (No wussing out either, people...not like last year).

For those of you not coming, well, I'll just leave you with this.

:: Jingling Bells ::

"When fighting for a mall parking spot on Christmas Eve, remember to be festive..for example...'Move your holly, jolly ass!' or "I'll deck the halls with your face!'" - commercial I heard on the radio yesterday.

So, Christmas is here in two days. How the hell did that happen. Weren't we just at Lambie's Halloween party, like two weeks ago? Crazy.

Most families have their various Christmas traditions - I know my family has a million. Makes the next few days pretty fun, but over the past couple Christmases we, as a group, have done our best to invent our own yearly events, too, which I always look forward to.

My Christmas kicks off every year when Mike comes down from Kamloops. He's usually here for a night every year - and has been at Bucholtz' birthday ever year since Buchs turned 19. (Happy 22nd today, by the way dude). It's usually that day where my lack-of-sleep Christmas routine kicks in, but this year, thanks for Mike's extra holidays from work, it started a few days earlier.

We haven't done much, really - watched some TV, saw Rocky Balboa (FANTASTIC!), and basically just hung out, doin' our usual thing. The two of us are usually pretty lowkey (except when we're not, watch out. Things get stolen. Cops are called. Fences are jumped).

Tonight though, could be good - it will likely include video games, booze, and perhaps a copious amount of oranges.

But there's more too - for starters, late on Christmas Eve the last year or two we usually end up at somebody's house for a quick gathering and a few beers. One year it was Gorski's house, another it was Jer and Amanda's. Then, on Christmas Day, after dinner has been digested and Chris has already ate 4 turkey sandwiches, everyone usually ends up at my parent's house, where we proceed to get very drunk.

I was trying to think how that little tradition got started, and I finally figured it out. About 4 or 5 years ago, I got a fancy all-glass shot glass set and ice bucket. It also came with a bunch of booze and a book of strange shots, so me, Chris, Jeremy, and Ian - and likely other people i can't remember - gave 'er a test run. I remember drinking absolutely repulsive shots with names like Test Tube Baby, and other less-than-appealing titles.

Good times.

I expect this year to be no different, with all of us convening someplace to get intoxicated. Really, the drinking is the same than any other weekend. But this time, we've been known to wear Christmas sweaters, so that makes it different.

That makes it Christmas.

Have a good one guys.

(As an aside, this guy here could use some Christmas spirit. Or maybe he's inventing a tradition of his own.)