Twas the night before Christmas...oh wait, I lied, that's tomorrow

It's one day before Christmas Eve. Or the eve of Christmas Eve. Or the day after four days before Christmas. Or the fifth day of Hanukkah. Or four days before Kwanza. Yeah, pick which ever name you want, but it's still the same day. My family and I are finally home after a grueling ten hour car ride. Family trips are fun...in theory. Because in real life, ten hours in a tiny (well, big) car, crammed up against my pointy brother and younger sister while the cow stink from the hoard of farting cows outside wafts into the car is a Bad Thing. And Bad Things are not fun. Part way through, my dad and my mom got into a very loud argument over directions while we were following a GPS. Confused? Yeah, I was too. For the entirety of the argument, I pretended to sleep so my parents wouldn't turn around and scream at me. My bitter personality and snark are not appreciated and I sound like a lame pep talker when I try to be nice. I have this terrible habit of making a bad situation worse. But honestly, I don't do it deliberately. For someone who calls herself a writer, I'm not very good with words.

Moving on, it's great to be home for the holidays. The tree is lit, the lights outside are winking, and all that's missing is a cozy fire. But our Christmas tree kind of blocks the fireplace, so we can't light it. Well, we could but then the tree would catch on fire and eat all of our presents and the entire house. (Random thought, but I saw a "crackling hearth" DVD for sale at Barnes and Noble. It was seriously just a video of a fire in a fireplace. Who'd waste eight dollars on that? More importantly, who'd spend, like eight hours recording a controlled fire?)

I think the holiday cheer's finally catching up to me. My little sister started turning on the Christmas songs and baking cookies in the beginning of December. She insisted we get our tree as soon as the month changed and we had to DECORATE IT RIGHT THEN AND THERE. When I was younger, (I know I'm still young. I just feel like an old lady) I'd always be the one who insisted we HAD to decorate our tree. This year, I hung about four ornaments before getting bored and leaving. I find that every year, it takes longer and longer for me to get hyped up about the holidays. It's almost like I don't care anymore. I didn't write a Christmas list until a week ago, and by then everyone had already bought their gifts. And the kicker is that I still don't care. Don't get me wrong, I had a blast buying gifts for my family and friend(s) but I don't expect very much from other people. Mommy, am I depressed? Or am I just some strange, pathetic creature with no feelings?

Oh jeez, and this soul finding rambling stuff comes out right after I declare a happy thing. Remind me to blog earlier in the day when I'm not as tired, okay? I don't know why, but after ten I get really depressing. As in, just by reading this post, I've already sucked away part of your soul. Sorry about that. Really. I'll give it back in a few days. I promise I'll wash it before I give it back to you. It'll be all sparkly and pretty and shiny and new. I swear.

When do you guys usually start feeling the holiday buzz? (And I'm NOT talking about the alcohol *glare*)

What did you ask for this year?