christmas eve at my house

My mother is listening to Christmas music while vacuuming (don't ask me how!).  I just went to three different stores to get some fucking chocolate sprinkles (non-existent at CVS, sold out at Hy-Vee, finally found at Target - bless you, Target, you have never failed me).  Radio is strange on Christmas Eve.  There's the really awful pop-Christmas songs (sorry, I hate them - I also don't like Trans-Siberian Orchestra's stuff), the quiet devotional stuff that plays on NPR, the rock station that doesn't know what to do except play rock that is more optimistic than usual, and 94.1, which has resorted to "Whoop!  There It Is" and "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)."  I listened to 94.1.  My cat is hiding in the basement shelving, behind the gift bags, because fuck if she's going to listen to extremely loud renditions of "Silver Bells."  There's a sugar-dusting of snow outside, but the streets are wet and the air is humid.  Because Nebraska doesn't ever know what it's doing, weather-wise.

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and Merry Survival to everyone.  Just don't end up like the people in this movie, okay?

Yes, I think that Black Christmas (1974) is actually a decent movie. 

ETA: A couple pictures of Christmas in my part of the world (my cat in the pre-assembled Christmas tree, the view outside my house 1 and 2, and the country road to my hair dresser's house).