Gutteberg update!

Finally! New films at the Steve Guttenberg Project!

You've been a-flutter with anticipation, haven't you?

So. Much. Stuff.

When I moved over to the UK four and a half years ago, I was only planning on staying for a year. So, I packed two suitcases and put the rest of my stuff (the contents of a one bedroom apartment) into storage, and trucked on over to the UK.

But as you've no doubt figured out by now, it didn't quite work out like that. Turns out I like it here, and decided to stay. Now that I've bought a place and have a more-or-less permanant base, my parents decided that it was time to send my stuff over. And of course, I heartily endorsed that decision.

Becaue my dad is ever so organized, he went through everything in storage, took photos and asked me what I wanted to keep and what could be sold/given away. I decided that most of the furniture could go, since the hand-me-down ugly but comfortable peach swivel armchair didn't really fit with my planned decor, and the cost of shipping over my Ikea coffee table was about the same as buying a new one. So, I pretty much gave away all the furniture.

That leaves books, CD's, videos and general junk. Oddly, all of my DVD's have mysteriously disappeared, Dad. Don't think I won't be checking out the parental film collection the next time I'm home.

Anyway, last Saturday, my stuff got delivered. 26 boxes. Well, there were a few things not in boxes, like the little triangle tables and the leopard print butterfly chair, so there were maybe 22 boxes and four assorted bags of other stuff.

But that's still a whole lot of boxes.

Now, I bought these great shelves on eBay, which are 2 metres high and 170 cm wide with six shelves. So, lots of storage space, yes?

Well, when I put all my books that I've bought in the four and a half years that I've been here, and the 9 boxes of books that came from home, and put two rows of books on each shelf, the shelves are full. I may have to do some weeding out.

I've spent the last week finding places to put all my stuff. I've still got to find places for my grade 7 math award and my high school music award. Though I am proud of my achievements, I don't think I really want those bad boys on display.

I had some very emotional times when I was unpacking. And yes, I did speak to my things. And no, I don't think that makes me crazy. I mean, the Minnie Mouse figurine and I have known each other since I was about 7. It would just be rude if I didn't wish her a warm hello. And the Winnie the Pooh figurine was purchased at Disneyland when I went to California with Wendy when I was 16. Good times, I tell you.

I now have all my school stuff from when I was a kid, including all my school ID's and I've also got my Cabbage Patch Kids and all the books of my childhood. I'm currently re-reading Don't Care High by Gordon Korman and the Emily books by L.M. Montgomery and I've got some Christopher Pike books and a few RL Stines (Fear Street, not Goosebumps. Please, I'm not a child.) and some Judy Blumes and about 30 Babysitter's Club books in the line-up.

It's a bit weird having all my stuff here. Everything I had before it got here was purchased in the last four years. So, none of it was really ugly or unfortunate or unattractive. Because I've got pretty good taste. But now I've got some stuff that I love, but that I really don't want on public display. I'll have to figure out how to merge that with the stuff I've got and not have it be hugely unattractive. I'm clever. I can make it work.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to read Babysitter's Club #8 Boy Crazy Stacey.

Best. Scene. Ever.

So, I just finished watching Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle (also known as Harold & Kumar Get The Munchies in the UK, because the wonder of White Castle has not made it to these shores).

Now, I don't know if you've seen this movie, but it's a delight.

Not only is it delightful, but it has the single best scene I have ever seen in a movie ever, in all time, ever, ever, ever.

Harold and Kumar are in a car, listening to soft rock of the 80's. A classic tune, one which I currently have on my iPod, known as Hold On by the fabulous Wilson Phillips comes on the radio. And they sing along.

Now it might not seem like much. But I laughed so hard I almost cried, and then I rewound it and watched it again, and again laughed so hard I almost cried.

Best. Scene. Ever.

B.O.R.E.D.

So, you know when it's a really slow day at work? And you've recently received a delivery of DVD's and cases that used some unusual packing material?

And say it looks like this:

Sometimes the answer is so clear, isn't it?

People, it's the First Annual Styrofoam Hat Day. And I could not be more excited!

How cute do I look?

Jessica's gone for more of an upturned brim, which I find quite sassy.

And I'm serious when I say we're making everyone wear them.

And yes, Jess and I are sitting at our desks right now with the hats on. And we look SO GOOD.

One more Valentine

I do take requests. Sarah, this one's for you.

It's a good old-fashioned Valentine's Day!

I miss being in grade school sometimes, don't you?

Remember when you were in the second grade, and the day before Valentine's Day, you decorated a brown paper bag to stick to the side of your desk to act as your Valentine's mailbox? And then your mom took you to the store, and you got to pick your Valentine's cards. It's always a tricky decision. Too obvious and cheesy and everyone else will have the same ones. Too esoteric and unexpected and your classmates will think you're a freak. You finally decide on your selection, and then the tricky part comes. Allocating the cards. You sit down with the list of your class that your teacher helpfully handed out the week before and start divvying them up. The cutest boy in the class clearly gets the most suggestive card. Or at least, the most suggestive card that the Care Bears selection has to offer. The gross boy that everyone hates gets the one with a bad pun and a drawing of a frowning lemon. You don't want him to think you like him, do you? There's always one "best friend" card, and it's always tricky to think of which of your seven best friends to give it to.

I miss those times. I also miss getting thirty Valentine's cards.

In a tribute to the Care Bear card days of yore, I give you my Valentine's treat to you.

Happy Valentine's Day, from me to you.

Enjoy it like you're eight years old.

Sad Times

We really are living in sad times.

I just heard *NSync refered to as "Justin Timberlake's old band".

Does no one appreciate the beauty of On The Line?

Finally ... The Flat Saga

I know it's a bit late, but it's time to let y'all know the story of the flat. It's been quite a journey of delays and aggravation, and I know you'll all enjoy reliving it with me. Journey back with me, won't you to ...

August 2005

The flat search begins. After much internet searching, I realize that I cannot afford to buy a flat in North London. This is a somewhat scary proposition, as I've lived in North London for four years - the entire time I've been in this country. In fact, I can count the number of times I've been south of the river on one hand. (Not counting the south bank, because let's be honest - that's not really south is it?)

So, I begin searching and call some estate agents and going to look at places. The first place I look at is really nice, but I get all "oh, you can't put an offer on the first place you look at, that's stupid, blah, blah, blah", and by the time I decide to put an offer in, it's gone. The lesson? She is learned.

September 2005

The looking continues. I see some gross places, some nice places and some places I could actually live in. And the looking continues.

October 2005

The looking continues. I get involved in a bidding war on a flat that's pretty cute. I lose. It's upsetting. But, I find another flat in the same estate and take a look and it's not too shabby. And, I put an offer on it. And exciting news! It gets accepted! Woo hoo! I assume it will be a matter of weeks before I am able to move. I am an idiot.

November 2005

I get myself a solicitor (or "lawyer" to you North American folks) and a mortgage advisor and get started on the horrifically lengthy process of buying a flat. Seriously, you have no idea. I get approved for a mortgage pretty quickly, which was a relief, because I have bad credit. My solicitor gets things moving on the paperwork front. There is a LOT of paperwork. Lucas, who I work with, told me that it would take three months to get into my flat. I laughed at him and told him to shush because there was no chain and it would all be super quick.

(As an aside, a brief lesson in British property buying. Until you actually exchange contracts which happens right when you exchange money, anyone at any time can back out of the house buying and/or selling procedure. That means you could have spent money on things like surveys and mortgage stuff and if someone swoops in and offers more money for the flat, they can just HAVE it. You've got no rights at all. It's called "gazumping", which is a cute word for a crappy thing to do. If you're in a chain of people buying and selling, if one part of the chain falls apart, the whole thing does. It's weird here people. Weird.)

Anyway, it's all moving along. I tell my solicitor that I want to move in before Christmas. My lease on my flat that I'm renting runs out at the end of December, so if that doesn't happen I'll possibly be homeless.

December 2005

My solicitor calls me at the beginning of December to tell me that there is no way I'll be in before Christmas. I am annoyed. Fortunately, I can extend my lease for a month. Still - annoying. The paperwork continues. It moves ever so slowly. So. Slowly. Christmas comes. Christmas goes.

January 2006

It's the New Year. We're post the "Incident" (which we are still never speaking of again, by the way). I begin packing, in the hopes that I will be moving on the 8th of January. I get a call from my solicitor. I'll complete on the 18th of January. Annoying. But at least I don't have to pay another month's rent. I buy a couch (which is a WHOLE other story of annoyingness that I will get to later). I book movers. I buy a new TV. And finally, finally, finally three months (damn that Lucas and his rightness!) after my offer is accepted, I get to move in . FINALLY. The movers I booked were awesome. Seriously, so amazing. The move itself went pretty smoothly, which was a relief. And now I'm in.

Sigh. Aaaand relax. Now just to renovate a bathroom, get the new carpet and floors installed and paint the whole place. And learn to garden. How long can that take?

I've got a few photos of the place, which you can see here.

Seriously, can you believe it took three months? Madness, I tell you. Madness.

Now that's what I call fabulous

This made me laugh so hard I almost cried.

Brokeback To The Future.

I defy you not to find this hi-freaking-lariuos.

Oh my god, do you remember when you and I...

Once again, a good idea that is ruthlessly stolen from Gwen.

It's a superfun game, and here's how to play:

Post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL memory of you and me. It can be anything you want -good or bad- BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE. You've got free reign. Start your sentence "Remember when you and I..."

I am so looking forward to reading the memories that you and I never shared. Good times, I tell you. Good times!

Streisand + Theron + Cox + Twain = Me

Along with apparently every single person on the internet, I am fascinated by this site. They take a photo of you, and give you a list of celebrities you look like. How could I possibly resist?

This is the picture I chose to use. It's my face and a teensy portion of Bette's face.

And yes, I am drunk. And yes, I am wearing a tiara and sash. (It was taken at the Kobrinsk's going away party, and I was Miss America at a mall opening.)

I uploaded it to the site, and this is the results I got:

• Hillary Duff - 62%: Hmmm, not too sure about that one. I suppose we have a similar face shape. Her photo on the site is taken before she went down to her current scary weight. But she is annoying, and I am not, so we will move on.
• Katie Holmes - 58%: Now, funnily enough, I was told just a few weeks ago that I look like Katie Holmes - the first time I've ever heard that. Apparently, we have the same smile. I can actually see that one a bit.
• Shania Tawin - 58%: I only look like Shania Twain when I'm wearing my leopard print floor length hooded coat, bra top and stretch pants outfit. But on those days (and there are many of those days, I can tell you) you can easily mistake me for her.
• Christina Ricci - 57%: Since she currently looks like a lollipop, I think not. But in terms of face shape, maybe.
• Cameron Diaz - 57%: Well, we've got a similar smirk going on in the photos. I guess that counts for something.
• Courteney Cox - 48%: Hmmm, no. I don't see this at all. Um, we both have blue eyes? Maybe that's it.
• Drew Barrymore - 46%: Sweet! I look like two thirds of Charlie's Angels! Now, in all fairness, I look more like Drew Barrymore than I do like Lucy Liu. Drew Barrymore is actually the celebrity I always say that I look like, but I am usually kidding. I don't actually think I look that much like her at all.
• Barbra Streisand - 45%: Uh, sure. Why not? We're both female. And have heads. And hair. The similarities literally go on for ages.
• Charlize Theron - 44%: Again, I'm pretty sure I got this one on face shape. She's very pretty though. I'll pretend that I do look like her.

Well, that was fun. In no way accurate, but fun. Now I want to try with more pictures. I wonder who I'd look like if I was smiling properly?

Reply All

Okay, I'm going to be controversial here. I don't want to freak you out, or offend you, or cause unnecessary stress, but it's time we dealt with this. Actually, it's past time.

So, you know when you get an email? And it's to you, and lots of other people? Maybe it's a forward full of humorous and/or inspirational musings. Perhaps it's an invitation. It could even be, oh I don't know, an email letting people know about a change of address.

Anyway, there you are, reading the email. Perhaps you chuckle and/or get inspired, perhaps you think "damn straight I'll be there", perhaps you think "congrats on the move". Regardless of the motivation, you wish to respond.

Now, here's where you need to take a moment and pause.

You need to think very carefully about whether your comment of "so funny!" or "great, I'm there!" or "I'll come and visit!" is directed at the person who sent you the email or at the entire list of people the email was sent to.

There are a few factors that can help you with your decision here. Quickly go through the following list in your head:

1. Do I know every single person on this email list?
2. If I do know all these people, am I certain that these are all personal email addresses, and not work addresses?
3. Is my comment both relevant to the conversation and necessary to send to everyone?
4. Really?
5. Seriously, really?

If all of these questions are answered with a firm and decisive yes, then you may proceed with caution to the reply all button and send your response to all the people on the email list.

If the answer to any of these questions is "no" or an "I'm not sure" or an "um, maybe?", then this is the time you want to click on the reply button. It's right there beside the reply all button. Go ahead! Make your witty and/or informative comment to the sender of your email. They'll be happy to get it, I'm sure.

Perhaps you'll initiate an engaging and diverting email conversation that will enrich both your lives. Won't that be fun?

If you can't answer these five questions with a yes, then these people don't want to hear from you. They don't know you. They're at work and will get in trouble for excess personal emails. They don't care if you're going to be at the party.

And the person who sent the email in the first place? They're probably going to be annoyed with you for inflicting this chain of email on their friends/family/co-workers.

Sure, in a perfect world we'd all bcc: emails to lots of people. But it's not a perfect world, is it?

Reply all is annoying. Don't use it unless you have to.

News! Fabulous!

Finally, finally, finally, I've moved into the new place. Delightful!

I'll post about the stress of the move soon, but right now I'm so freakin' tired.

Also - moved! Woo!

People are freaks

I forgot to post about the weirdest thing I saw the other day.

On Tuesday, as I was on my way to work, I saw something very odd. I was on the Northern Line on the Underground, which is always hideously busy in the mornings. Something like half a million people use the Northern Line every day, and approximately three quarters of them were squashed into the car I was in.

It was busy, is what I'm trying to say.

Anyway, there's this woman sitting down, and she's got her makeup bag and a little handheld mirror out and she's putting on her makeup.

Now, that's not that unusual. I mean, I think it's weird to be putting on your eyeliner and mascara in a confined space with hundreds of strangers. But maybe that's me.

So, this woman is putting on her makeup, looks at herself critically in her mirror, reaches into her bag and pulls out a pair of tweezers. And starts plucking her eyebrows. In a crowded underground car. With people smooshed together all around her.

Now, makeup is one thing. It's not really polite, but it's not horrific.

But I strongly feel that hair removal should be kept at home.

I don't want to see someone shaving their legs in public. I don't want to see someone getting a wax in public. And I don't want to see a woman shaping her eyebrows when I'm trying to get to work.

Tweezer lady is just plain weird. Weird, I say.

Hand writing, mouse writing, same difference

I found this Handwriting analysis via Hillbilly, Please, and as I wanted to check if my handwriting said I was a serial killer, I was compelled to try.

This is my mouse-signature. (Mouseature?)

This actually looks a fair bit like my hand written name, although perhaps my mouse writing skills are not what they could be. And no, I will not be practicing.

Apparently, this is me:

You plan ahead, and are interested in beauty, design, outward appearance, and symmetry.
You are a shy, idealistic person who does not find it easy to have relationships, especially intimate ones.
You are diplomatic, objective, and live in the present.
You are a talkative person, maybe even a busybody!
You enjoy life in your own way and do not depend on the opinions of others.

I think that's probably true. Very interesting.

You totally want to try now, don't you?

The "Incident"

It's time to confess.

Some of you already know about the "Incident", as I like to call it. It's time to let you know the story.

Imgaine, if you will. It's a Wednesday evening, between Christmas and New Years. There's this girl. Let's call her Alice. She's been out for a drink or two with a good friend. And by a drink or two, I mean a bottle of wine or two. Anyhoo, it's super late, she's a bit tipsy and when she gets back to her flat, she realizes she's forgotten her keys.

Now, this girl doesn't panic. She mmight be drunk, but she's on top of the situation. With a daring disregard for the late hour, she buzzes her neighbours and gets them to buzz her into the buidling. They do so.

She gets to her flat door, and thinks carefully. What will she do? She can't get into her flat. Because this girl lives alone, she's thought about this before. What would she do if she lost her keys? She has a backup plan.

Up half a flight of stairs, there is a window. This window is right above the roof above her bathroom, which is a mere hop down to the flat roof that is directly outisde her flat. Simple, yes? So one would think.

Now, I'd like to make it clear that this girl has had this backup plan for ages, and this has been considered while sober. Just so we're clear on that.

Anyway, she goes up the stairs and opens the window and climbs out onto the roof. But oh no! There's a slippery patch! Watch out!!

Oh, no. The girl, she has slipped. And she has fallen.

She was a bit disoriented and spacy and confused, and couldn't figure out how she'd gotten onto the roof. Her neighbours call the paramedics. They get into the flat somehow, probably through the same window/roof combo that the girl was attempting.

She's taken to the hospital in an ambulance. Her glasses are broken. She's a bit bloody.
The emergency doctor at the hospital doesn't want to stitch her up because the cut is one her face and she's so pretty that he doesn't want to sar her. She gets referred to the plastics department in the Royal Free Hospital.

She goes home, and goes to the Royal Free in the morning. She got her appendix out here, so there were good memories.

They stitch her up. She's got one hell of a black eye. And no glasses.

(You may not know this, but the girl has bad, bad, bad eyesight. BAD.)

Her friend, of the drunken night out, comes to meet her and helps her to pick up a new pair of glasses. Which is a good thing, in the end, because she needed new glasses and has been too lazy to get them.

So, her headaches are pretty much gone. And her stitches are out. She's going to have a scar. She's still a bit swollen. Her black eye is gone, pretty much.

She's going back to work tomorrow. Let the laughter begin, my friends. Let the laughter begin.

Well, at least she didn't fall off a ladder when trying to change a lightbulb, as many of you were worried would happen.

(That light went out again. A different story though. Alexcia can confirm that it wasn't as dangerous as it looked.)

So, that's the "Incident". And now let us never speak of it again.

Exciting and fabulous news!

We here at Alice's Dark Place are very pleased to announce some exiciting and fabulous news regarding our good friend Aaron, who you may remember from various converstaions I've posted, rather than writing anything new. But now is not the time to discuss my laziness.

Because Aaron has news that I've decided to share with you, the loyal readers of my blog. He's getting married! He proposed to the lovely Terra and she accepted, and so they're engaged!

How fun is that? I love a good wedding!

Congraulations, you guys!

And, just for the record, getting married is so grown up. Seriously.

Secret Shame

I have a secret. It's pretty scandalous, and I hope it won't make you think less of me.

There's this movie, see. Sure, I hated it so freaking much that I could hardly speak when I saw it in the theatre, and was so outraged at the overblown ridiculous story that it made me feel ill and I was nauseated that I'd paid actual money to see it in a theatre. Still, I can't help but watch it every single time it comes on TV.

I'm watching it right now.

And I love it.

Love. It.

It's Armageddon, and I won't be ashamed.

I love everything about it.

I love Bruce Willis as the tough go-to guy. I love Billy Bob Thorton as the tough but caring NASA guy. I love Liv Tyler as the spunky daughter/love interest who's sending her dad and her boyfriend to save the world. Hell, I even love Ben Freakin' Affleck as the jackass who's in love with Liv Tyler and repeatedly gets himself in trouble because he's a bit of an ass.

And I LOVE the team of drillers. Steve Buscemi, Owen Wilson, Will Patton, Michael Clarke Duncan. They're a delight.

I love the preparation for going into space. Hilarious!

Sure, it all falls apart when they get into space. But I'm cool with that.

I still love it.

And, I won't be ashamed.

Merry Christmas Movie Marathon!

Merry Christmas, everyone!

I've just finished my most delightful Christmas movie marathon, although sadly not in my new flat, because I'm not going to be in there till January, which is a whole other tragic and horrible story that we won't even get into now, because this is a time for Christmas happiness, not flat related misery.

In November, I asked for suggestions for favourite Christmas movies. I scoured eBay and my DVD collection for the finest Christmas movies my meagre amount of money could find, and came up with what I think is a pretty damn fine list.

I was planning on watching all of these fabulouso films on Christmas day, but that plan went down the drain when I did a bit of math and realized that I had about 28 hours worth of Christmassy goodness. So, two days it is!

And here it is - the finest list of Christmas movies of all time!

Christmas Eve

We started off with One Magic Christmas, which is a movie we had when I was a kid and I loved, loved, loved. And I'm pleased to say that I love it still. Mary Steenburgen stars as a woman who doesn't like Christmas, and her adorable daughter conspires with an angel, played by Harry Dean Stanton in an interesting casting choice, to give her the Christmas spirit. It has more kidnapping and murder than you'd expect in a movie about Christmas. Delightful!

Next was the 1951 version of Scrooge, the black and white version, as recommended by Aaron. I'd never seen this before, and I liked it, although the early 50's overacting got a bit much at times. It's a classic though, and I'm happy to now own it.

The second A Christmas Carol movie of the marathon was Scrooged, which I love. Bill Murray at his most Bill Murrayist. Carol Kane as the ghost of Christmas present who keeps kicking his ass. Alfre Woodard, who always rocks. Bobcat Goldwaith as a character who didn't annoy the crap out of me. Robert Goulet as himself. Delightful!! I did fast forward through some of the boring bits, but this movie is a holiday classic.

Christmas with SCTV was something I'd never come across before, but I saw it on eBay and knew it must be mine. It's two one hour specials - the 1981 and 1982 Christmas specials as they aired on TV. It's full of the classic SCTV characters, and I did like it, but it was a bit long. Next!

Another Christmas classic that was recommended but I'd not seen was The Ref. Normally I don't like the Spacey, but I did here. And I loved the Christmas wreath/candle head things that they wear. I want to get me one of those. It's chock full of swearing and yelling which is a nice break from the sap of Christmas.

I don't save it for Christmas, because I like to watch it all year, but Elf is a delightful movie that I love, love, love. Seen it a million times, and still love, love, love it. This was Sean's recommendation and I have to agree. "You sit on a throne of lies" is a line that makes me aught to even think about. Ha!

The final movie of Christmas Eve was A Christmas Story, which is the Christmassy of most Christmas classics. I want a Red Rider BB Gun for Christmas. And I will not shoot my eye out! Little Randy with his over stuffed snow suit and pig noises is so adorably cute, I could die. Adorable!

Christmas Day

Merry Christmas! We begin with my favourite Christmas cartoon, How The Grinch Stole Christmas, and I would like to clarify that I do not acknowledge the existence of that crappy Jim Carrey monstrosity. I love this cartoon. That's all I have to say about this. Love.

Next up was Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer, the first in my unintentional Rankin/Bass mini-marathon. This is a Christmas classic, and I love it, but man, is it sexist! "They knew they should fight the abominable snowman, but felt it was best to get the women folk home". Shocking! You'd think this was made in 1864, not 1964.

In 1987, my parents taped A Claymation Christmas Celebration from TV, and it was one of my favourites. I found it again on eBay and I was super excited! And, it did not disappoint! Herb and Rex, the dinosaurs hosting our claymation fun, are hilarious, the songs are great, the California Raisins are so freakin' cool. How can you go wrong?

Next in the unintentional Rankin/Bass mini-marathon, was Frosty the Snowman. Again, a classic. And again, dated! How does Frosty know what a thermometer is, but not know what a stoplight is? Huh? Tell me that! And Karen is a troublemaker, what with the "I'm going to the North Pole too". And I'm going to be honest with you here - they did steal the magician's hat! There, I said it.

The Little Drummer Boy was the next in the unintentional Rankin/Bass mini-marathon. I haven't seen this since I was a kid, and I totally thought it was the story of the Little Drummer Boy turning up at the stable. And I was right, because apparently I got Book II, not the original. Which is the story of The Drummer Boy and one of the wise men saving some silver bells. Not as fabulous. A bit of a Christmas disappointment, I have to say.

Tim recommended one of his Christmas favourites, The Year Without a Santa Claus, the final film in the unintentional Rankin/Bass mini-marathon. I'd never seen this one, but it's not too shabby. Basically, Santa gets whiny, decides no one likes him and decides to cancel Christmas. And who has to save the day? Mrs. Claus, that's who. Still a bit sexist, though. I don't know if those Rankin/Bass guys like the ladies too much.

In the world of poorly animated Christmas cartoon specials, I may like A Garfield Christmas best. John, Odie and Garfield go to the farm for Christmas with Mom, Dad, Doc Boy and Grandma. And who knew that I knew the words to "Let's Have A Good Old Fashioned Christmas Down On The Farm"? Cause, you know, a little overeatin' never did you any harm.

The pinnacle of Christmas cartoons is A Charlie Brown Christmas, which is a classic of classic proportions. Charlie Brown finding the meaning of Christmas? Who wouldn't love that? I love the songs and the kid voices and Linus revealing the true meaning of Christmas. And Snoopy with the decorations. Aw!

The final A Christmas Carol movie in the marathon is Abby's recommendation, A Muppet Christmas Carol. And it is fan-freaking-tastic. Michael Caine is fabulous, Kermit is a moving Bob Cratchitt, Gonzo is delightful as narrator Charles Dickens and Rizzo the Rat is fabulous as himself. The songs are great and I love, love, love it. Man, I love, love, love a lot of Christmas movies, don't I?

Just in time for Christmas dinner is Christmas classic Miracle on 34th Street - the black & white original, not the remake. Aw, this movie is so good. Maureen O'Hara is awesome, and Natalie Wood is so freakin' cute I could eat her up with a spoon. Adorable! And the ending is so great. It's everything a Christmas movie should be.

The best of all Christmas movies, I say, is It's A Wonderful Life. So. Amazingly. Good. I've seen it almost every year, and it's still fabulous. Fab. U. Lous. I get all teary at the end every time. Aw, so Christmassy fantastic!

And last, but not least, we have Janice's recommendation White Christmas. I already had this Christmas goodie, and it's fantastic. I love Bing Crosby and with the singing and the dancing and the fabulous, it's a Christmas delight. The only song I don't like is Choreography, but I can always fast forward. Delightful!

And there ends the Christmas marathon. I need a rest now.

There were a few suggestions I didn't get to - Mike's suggestion of National Lampoon's Chritmas Vacation because I hate this movie. Hate! And I couldn't find Sarah's suggestion of The Box of Delights. And Sean suggested I drink eggnog, which I hate like poison.

Merry Christmas!

Diet Coke: The Christmas Letters

Dear Diet Coke,

I love you.

Love,
Aaron

***

Dear Aaron,

So you say. Would it kill you to buy me a nice gift every once in a while? Or take me out for a nice meal?

I feel like this is really a one way relationship.

Sincerely,
Diet Coke

***

Dear Diet Coke,

I'm sorry. You're right. And that time with the Diet Dr. Pepper... it meant nothing, I swear.

Yours,
Aaron

***

Dear Aaron,

Diet DR PEPPER? You know that degree is fake, right. Doctor, my ass. Diet Mr. Pepper is more like it.

I'd better not find out you've been messing around with that Diet Sprite slut.

Tearfully,
Diet Coke

***

Dear Diet Coke,

Ew. I wouldn't touch Diet Sprite if it were the last pop on Earth. But is it my fault you ran out on Swiss Chalet and Pizza Pizza, leaving me with NO CHOICE but Diet Pepsi?

Painfully yours,
Aaron

***

Dear Aaron,

You're right. I haven't always been there for you. Legal wrangling, too painful to go into now, means that I can no longer associate with delicious Swiss Chalet or delectable Pizza Pizza.

If you can forgive me, I can forgive you. Let's start over. There's no point fighting - not at Christmas!

Love,
Diet Coke

***

Dear Diet Coke,

I love you.

Love,
Aaron