Well, we got our Christmas tree. Actually, we've had it for several days now. Too frequently in the past, we set up our tree so late that there was really only a week's worth of enjoyment before Christmas passed. While I firmly believe that Christmas trees should stay up at least until January 1st, it's just as true that looking at them after Christmas can be a little depressing.

We're decorating it tonight. I worry that we brought it home too early, as the floor around the tree already looks a bit like a shag rug, and even the slightest shake of the branches makes the floor look even more like a shag rug. And yet, I keep shaking those branches, because I've convinced myself that the loose needles are of a finite amount, and eventually, it'll get to the point where my branch shakes bear no floor needles. This went on for about fifteen minutes last night. I'm living large.
The tree's been here for around a week now, and yeah, technically, we may have purchased it too early. I don't know. I researched online to see what the Christmas tree experts thought, but everyone had a different opinion. Some people said that it didn't matter, because the trees at the lots were already cut and delivered in November. Others said that heated homes are too dry for trees to look healthy inside for more than a week. This is part of the reason why legitimate books should always be viewed more seriously than online guides. You never know if you're getting instructions from a true professional or the guy in the weird house down the street who collects lawn ornaments in the shape of ducks.

I totally kicked my old scratch-off lottery card addiction, but it's a lot harder to keep it that way when there are so many holiday-themed ways to win big money. I always need to remind myself that, despite outward appearances, these Christmassy scratch-off cards have not been imbued with lucky holiday magic. They are not more likely to be winners than regular, non-Christmassy scratch-off cards. And even after I remind myself of this, I still go home with a few.
Just before I went freelance, I bought the cards mainly as a hope shot that I'd win a zillion dollars and never have to work again. There was a little kiosk right outside the office that sold them, and every lunch break, I'd head down and wait on a line filled with similarly disenfranchised 9-to-5'ers, praying for a cinematic moment. There's no sense of desperation in me buying them now; it's just that I can never pass on something with snowflake graphics and "Santa red" trim. My afflictions have changed, but they're just as stupid.

Around this time of year, my sister starts a family-wide e-mail chain to discuss who is making/bringing what for Christmas Eve dinner. As we're all Italian Catholics who were brought up on the "seven fish dish" meal, Christmas doesn't feel like Christmas if there aren't 50,000 things to get full on. The e-mail chain helps us divide and conquer, and when all's said and done, we'll have covered everything from coconut shrimp to stuffed calamari, the latter of which being my least favorite thing on the planet.
The only thing my family never seems to consider is the junk food. As much as certain dishes are synonymous with traditional holiday dinners, I find that certain junk foods are just as synonymous with those occasions. Example: It'll be a cold day in Hades before I let one of our Christmas Eve get-togethers slip by without a jar of Planters cocktail peanuts on the table, not because I think they're the greatest things ever, but because I remember them being there since I was five-years-old.
Of course, the photo above is of popcorn, so I digress. I would consider it a personal offense if you told me that you got through the entire month of December without at least one of those magical holiday popcorn tins, filled with curtained-off sections of popcorn in three different flavors. Popcorn is an all-year snack, sure, but these subdivided popcorn tins are Christmas through and through.
I know at least one of you will punch me for this, but I hate caramel-covered popcorn. Always have. I'll never understand why stupid caramel-covered popcorn achieves the largest portion of these holiday tins when it's so obvious that the honor should go to the cheese-dusted version. You may disagree, but that's okay. I know you're wrong, and that's all that matters.

Just in case it doesn't snow again this year: Look! A picture of snow! Our latest "storm" was really mild, and most of the heavenly white stuff has melted away. As much as I love a full-blown, tundra-level landscape-saturating mess, I'm also fond of the extended aftermath of a snowstorm. It's not even that cold today, and spotting these random patches of snow that refuse to melt away makes me believe that of all the many fruits of weather, snow is the only one with a sense of self-determination. It's impossible to see these errant patches of snow existing in fairly warm temperatures and not think that they're really trying to keep themselves together. Snow with soul!
And on a final note, an update on X-E's Christmas Chia Pet Project:

No longer the hairless, prepubescent Chia Pet of last week, our friend has begun sprouting his winter coat. I'm pretty stoked, because the green stuff is growing at a slow-but-steady rate, and it seems like he'll peak just around Christmas. Finally, one of my master plans may pay off!
Have you made it this far? Let's toss a survey into this, then. In the comments section, name the one thing you want most for Christmas this year. (Or whatever you celebrate, though I do admit that this site seems to ostracize everyone who celebrates anything that I don't.)
I'll start: A watch. Yeah, just a watch. Reason: I have a couple of work gigs coming up in the new year, and I feel that a good, new watch will mesmerize my employers and make them believe that I'm both timely and fashionable. Also, since my wardrobe palette currently weighs in with a total of three colors, I'm thinking that a shiny watch will help break things up a bit. So yeah. A watch. Your turn.
Posted by Matt on 12/07/2007. E-mail me!










Chestnuts roasted by 







Dan,
“When out on the lawn there arose such a thud,
I thought thet’d dropped a bomb, if only a dud.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the curtains, ready on window to bash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what nightmare my wondering eyes saw,
A miniature sleigh, and eight slavering rancor,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
He’d torn up my begonias, that clumsy old prick.
More ravenous than eagles his coursers became,
They tore apart the neighbours four inquisitive great danes.”