After 14 batches of cookies, 24 applesauce cakes, and a grand total of three wrapped presents in a mound of 2000 (ok I'm exaggerating with the presents...the baked stuff...I'm definitely not), I realized something. Christmas isn't about getting or giving gifts, it isn't about how many pounds you put on, but rather, Christmas is about the twenty years it takes from my life every year I do all of this shit.

I just ate a whole order of fries, chicken nuggets, and a large milkshake. Gerard says he is proud of me. I am only disgusted at what college has done to me. There was a time when I couldn't finish my meals due to lack of stomach room...now, I scarf it down in ten minutes.

Christina Aguilera rocks. If only I could pull off the nose and lip ring approach, I'd have it made. Buenos dias and feliz navidad!

I decided to post twice today. Now that I am home now, my mom has made me (to steal Tarah's words) her "Christmas bitch." I have to wrap presents, bake cakes, and bake cookies. Now ordinarily, I would have loved doing this if I was maybe 12 or 13, however, I am 18, and I am tired of Christmas. I'm sorry if I sound like a scrooge, but it just doesn't do it for me anymore. If anything this is the holiday I most hate, because it just reminds me how single I really am. I swear to God if I hear one more goddamn mushy Christmas love song on the radio I am going to kill someone. Bah humbug, and Merry Christmas.

Maybe I need some sleep. One more thing, the saddest Christmas song ever that had me in tears today was, "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas." Peace out home fries.

Gotta love parents. As I made my way to the cafeteria to finish off whatever leftover slop they had, I overheard a mother talking to her 18 year old freshman daughter. Even though this daughter had been in college for a semester, living on her own without mom and dad, her mom still had the nerve to say to her, "Honey, do you want to make a pit stop? There's no telling how long it's going to take before we see the next toilet." Now, that's not so bad. What was bad about it was after her daughter told her she didn't have to go, her mom still cajoled her and asked her to try. Oh my God. I was just like, "Listen, lady, I think your 18 year old daughter knows if she has to go to the bathroom or not." Now, I know I am not one to talk about overbearing parents, however, my parents have at least lightened up some since I got to college. Ok, lightened up a lot.

It's moving day today. I moved my stuff Tuesday, but I will take the last of it with me on the train today. Finals are over, and the semester is done. Thank God. Honestly, I don't think I will ever see another semester as horrible as this one. This was the worst. The next one will be better, I promise.

By the way, LOTR: The Return Of The King, was amazing. Go see it right now....I'm waiting to hear your response. Its emotional be warned...I cried for the last fifteen minutes.

The Spanish final was a piece of cake. I can't believe I worked all semester for that. I could have taken that last year and passed. I can't believe I even came in to school for that final. I'm just in a state of disbelief today. Now I have to sit around and wait for my Psych interview with my professor. How do you tell a professor face to face that you learned absolutely nothing about yourself in her class the past fifteen weeks? Sure, I've learned stuff about myself outside of class, but inside...I got nothing.

Its weird how many people I see that I know on campus. It still boggles my mind how small of a city this really is. I see people I've known all my life (well at least since nursery school), and then people I've known since high school. The funny thing is, a lot of these people I recognize and know that at one time, they were a really good friend to me, but now, when we pass each other we don't even acknowledge each other's existance. I guess those are the lemons life hands you. You just have to make lemonade. Ok, that was really corny...fuck it.

Now for the deep and possibly disturbing. Why do I feel so listless? Like everything doesn't matter to me anymore. It should...it damn well should, but it doesn't. I feel like I am nothing. Honestly, I'm not depressed or angry or suicidal. So don't put me on Suicide Watch or lock me up in an institution. I just don't care, nor do I feel like caring. Maybe winter break will solve things, maybe my trip to Florida will help me relax, but even if it doesn't...maybe I'm just supposed to exist like this. Food for thought.

I should just leave for good, and not tell anyone, like I contemplated doing a month ago.

"From the rooftop shout it out/ Baby I'm ready to go!"

Yeah does anyone know who that's by? I don't and I don't feel like looking it up. So whatever. Yeah, boy am I ready to go. Temple drags things the hell out, and I still have finals tomorrow. Then, I am finally finished. Oh well, tomorrow I'm going to see LOTR with some people from my floor. I'm incredibly excited.

Today Tarah and I went Christmas shopping and made cookies. The quote of the day by Ms. T-bone Gagne: "I made it quite known to Jimmy that I was performing sexual favors to the entire Pitt hockey team. It takes a lot out of a person!" Ahh, that girl cracks me up. Its good to be home.

One thing I will not miss on winter break: the trucker who wakes me up every morning at 7 a.m. My ode to him.

Dear Mr trucker
You are a fucker
And I need my goddamn sleep.
So here's what I propose
We hang you up by your toes
And force you to hear
I'm sure it all will disappear
And I will get some goddamn sleep.

Thank you thank you...I'll be here all week. Don't forget to tip your waitresses.


Monica said that my entry yesterday should have been more scanadalous, complete with a make-out scene in the elevator. I'm sorry people, my life isn't that exciting.

Once upon a time there was a princess who lived on the 8th floor in a castle on Broad Street in the fair kingdom of Philadelphia. One day, she met a prince who lived on the 7th floor in this castle on Broad St. He was a music student, and surprisingly, a very nice one at that. He held the elevator door for her, and they chatted all the way up to the 7th floor. They separated when the elevator reached the 7th floor, and never saw each other again, but they lived happily ever after.

The end.

For some reason, people must really think I like hot chocolate because they keep giving me packets of it. I'm not going to complain because I love hot chocolate as much as the next warm-blooded American teenager. So who's excited for Christmas? I know I am. Alright not really. The roomates kind of killed it for me with all of their Christmas music and decorations at the beginning of November, however, there is still the Lord Of The Rings: Return Of The King that I am crazily excited for...coming out this Wednesday in case you live under a rock. Orlando Bloom is hot. That is it. No more. The end.