I found myself listening to Christmas songs on the way to work and not minding the rain in my eyes. In fact, I began to imagine that some person who could look impossibly close at me would see raindrops on my eyelashes and find it beautiful. I'm ambivalent about Christmas these days, as my life sucks and I don't have too many people that I find dear to spend the holiday with. I love and want to be with my family, sure, but I miss the days of sledding and traveling to friends' houses after the Christmas madness. A fresh-aired relief that no one begrudged me. On occasion, though, when I'm not wishing I had the balls to call into work, or praying for some present-bearing fairy to drop off the rest of my Christmas shopping + beer, I think about the holiday as a time to express love, to show your fellow man that you are happy he exists. Christmas is strange. I've felt the nightmarish pressure and near-evil that working at a retail store (in a mall no less!) can bring. It brought me to tears in the store and caused me to declare war on my customers. I can't help, though, when a snow flake falls on my face, to remember what it feels like to be giddy about a gift that I'm giving...that I know is perfect. That I know the person will love. I did that recently...give a gift that I knew would not be returned, because I planned it that way. And I was right, it was perfect. And it made me happy.