Christmas Diary (part 2): The Aftermath. This time...it's personal!

Where did I leave off? Oh yeah, Friday night....

So, Saturday rolls around and it feels like Sunday. Because there's lot's of football on. San Diego lost, getting kicked out of the playoff race. And in South CAROLINA, the Carolina/Dallas game was not on TV. What the fuck? I had to watch it on the computer. But Dallas won, keeping their slim playoff hopes alive for the final week of the season. And more importantly in my mony fantasy football league, I decimated the number 1 team in the first round of the playoffs. It wasn't even close. Well, that's what he gets for talking trash to last year's champ. Unfortunately, my opponent in the finals doesn't look to be so easy.

Saturday night we did the opening presents thing. Got many clothes, including the best Christmas gift ever: Socks. No, seriously. It's that item you never really think to, or care to, buy on your own, and always need. I love my annual socks present. Now I can throw out or give away my socks gift from last Christmas.

Sunday, we hop in the car and dive about 5 hours up to my sister's houe in North Carolina for Christmas 2: Electric Bugaloo. More presents. More clothes. More socks. And a bitching leather jacket. More food....much more food. Played with the nephews, incurred a sexy nephew related injury (scratched neck).

After about 24 hours of that, I came home. With a suitcase full of new clothes (and a box to follow, being mailed up from my folks, also full of clothes.) Like I said, I got a lot of clothes.

Random thoughts from the weekend:

Taxi drivers don't know where you live. Maybe it's just me as I'm not a frequent taxi rider, but I always have this misconception before I actually get in the cab, that I can say: "28 Princeton street in Medford," (or wherever I'm going), and they'll know exactly where to go. Yeah, that doesn't happen. I always forget that.
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When you come back to work after being on vacation for a few days, do you ever feel like you shouldn't be there? Like maybe you were fired while you were away? I do.
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Airport bookstores are dangerous. Three airports in 5 days, and I came away with about half a dozen new books I want.
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Anyway, Christmas is over. back to real life. Back to work. Back to the gym (to work off all the Galiano cake). Back to the laundromat and the supermarket. Back to the dull and dreary day to day.