a sense of joy and then a panic

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).

Sugar, this time.  I called the red ones Go Big Red cookies, but then the green ones came and invaded in the name of Santa Claus.  So  now it's Go Big Red and Go Big Green, and I am apparently a Marshall supporter too.  But hey - who doesn't root for Marshall? Another observation: driving in the semi-frozen remnants of slushy snow (I ran out of granulated sugar midway through) is like trying to beat flour into sugar/butter.  Your wheels are the beaters, slip-sliding over the mush and barely holding traction while you pretend you're plowing tracks.

I actually made a pie.

First pie. So far it's been this and a bundt cake.

And all by myself too. Well, except for my cat, who was unhelpful, and Christina, who came by after the pie was safely in the oven. The worst part was doubtless the whole "after 15 minutes, put foil on the outer edges of the pie crust." WTF.

ETA: Picture!

Day 1
Destroying tapes is not as fun as it sounds.  Similarly, I pity the people that have to black things out at the CIA.  Damn Sharpies never go straight across a line of text.  I wonder if there's a job for professional evidence-destroyers.  On the bright side, if you want to do Halloween as Disco Glam Sadako (and if you do, then to quote my bitchy college roommate, "who ARE you?!"), using magnetic tape for hair is not a bad idea. 

Day 2
Same with shredding paper.  Shredder machines are weenies.  "Overload" my ass.  There's PLENTY of room for more tiny paper squares.  And then of course there's the lovely habit of spitting up paper squares when one tries to dislodge the machine in order to take out the "overload" of paper squares.  Three hole punchers are similarly pathetic.  All that's left to do is shred paper with your bare hands like a Real Man (TM).

Day 3
Another day, another sports loss.  What is this, Idaho?  Come on!

Day 4
Taro-flavored popsicles, however, are amazing.  Simply the best, better than all the rest.

Day 5 - Infinity
Repeat Days 1-4.