My 26th Christmas

Rosemary had promised to wake me up at 5am, which I had repeatedly told her was highly unnecessary. As it was, she woke up, decided it was too early, and didn’t get up again until 8.30am. I grumpily drag myself out of bed and we open our ‘Father Christmas’ presents. Now, I don’t wanna be too explicit, because young eyes may be reading, but I had ten years of believing, and now sixteen years of not. Damn, that means this is my 26th Christmas. I feel rather old…

My grandmother came over to the house about 11am and we all opened our presents from everyone. Paper and tags flew all over the living room, with Rosemary screeching in delight every time she revealed yet another present she had requested. I did rather well myself, including:
- The X-Files on DVD (seasons 2 and 3)
- Steel Magnolias DVD (my tape got screwed up in the player)
- the entire collection of Britney Spears videos on DVD (I have a defective music gene)
- Snow Patrol’s Final Straw and Franz Ferdinand on CD (well, it‘s not entirely defective)
- and the usual plethora of bathroom delights from Boots

Despite all my lovely gifts, one cannot deny that receiving a book signed by the author is pretty much the best and niftiest pressie ever, and Jenny got me just that: A copy of No Plot? No Problem! signed by Chris Baty. Apparently the world needs my book. I am so utterly jazzed! The power of Chris Baty compels me to complete the re-write before the start of the next NaNoWriMo competition!

After lunch, we listened to the radio a little, but by the time you’ve heard Band Aid for the fiftieth time, it gets really annoying. We switched it off and Chris bought his guitar down and played for us. In the end he was taking requests, and we were singing (mostly acapella) to Beatles songs, with the occasional punk song by Green Day and Blink 182.