santa isn't real � � � Monday, Nov. 24, 2003 * 00:17

Well, it's winter again. Tonight I used my dry-cleaning kit to clean all of my sweaters. Busted out the suede gloves earlier this week, currently searching for the lovely scarves and hats. Got to find the warm socks, the under-shirts, ice-picks and scrapers for the car. Been making hot chocolate most evenings and warm, dark tea in the mornings. Soon, the Christmas lights will go up around the windows, all of the presents will get wrapped, snow will start falling, Thanksgiving turkey will turn to turkey and mayo sandwiches with cold stuffing on the side, I'll wake up to ice patterns crystallizing on the windows, and the cats snuggling together on my black pea-coat.

Fuck this bullshit. Fuck the cold, screw the dry skin and chapped lips, fuck the ice, fuck the bitter wind, fuck the pine trees and American Express cards being the only green things around, fuck runny-nosed kids whining about all the ugly toys they want, fuck having to drive 30 miles an hour in order to not spin off the highway to a fiery death, fuck hot chocolate, fuck all the fugly birds that come out in the winter, fuck wearing socks, fuck not being able to wear pretty sandals, fuck snot freezing in your nose the second you go outside, fuck New Year's Eve, fuck turning 23, fuck stupid ass holiday movies, fuck going to the mall and seeing spring clothes coming out in the middle of December, fuck everyone celebrating holidays they don't even understand, and not the least of all fuck Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, the one Christmas thing I love, always coming on TV surreptitiously and shit and me never knowing it was on until the next day, and then wanting to pile-drive Santa Claus for being a stupid-ass idiot who eats too much and probably has a drinking problem and should never have associated himself with Rudolph in the first place, because believe me, Rudolph is way too fucking cute to be screwing around with Santa and his 7 ugly, gay reindeer.

I hate winter.