Merry Christmas everyone! Nicole at the helm! Now before I launch into the history of Christmas and it's origins being rooted in Yule and Saturnalia (guess who's an aspiring history major), I'd love to share with you some presents.
The kids so far have gotten a great amount of loot, the boys received Nintendo DS Lites, Pokemon games, Pokemon cards, books, and more Star Wars stuff (have you ever seen a Star Wars pencil in the shape of a light saber, pretty neat stuff). My daughter received books and princess and Barbie
stuff out the wazoo (the nerdy trait hasn't affected her yet).
TJ received every Carcassonne expansion that our local game shop had in stock as well as a pocket watch.
I had one present under the tree, and I'm typing this post on it! As an online college student and the online chair for our local Relay For Life, I've been in desperate need for a laptop, and this year two Christmas elves, TJ and our best friend who I will call "Lucy," made sure I got what I needed. Merry Christmas indeed, I feel like squeeing!
I know some of could be thinking "Wait, you're a college student? But your grammar is horrible!" Yes, I am a college student, and no, I have not taken my English 1A class yet (I'll be taking it this Spring), so please bear with the horrible grammar for a bit longer.
Now since you were kind enough to come over here and read about the nice little Christmas we had, I will share with you, the story of how I hit TJ's car.
Every year in Air Force JROTC, they have a military ball, it's like prom for cadets. Anyways, I was 16, had just received my first driver's license, and had a hell of a week. Just a few days before the military ball I had been in Idaho for my grandmother's funeral, my dad had disappeared that day (it was a usual thing for him, he had a "problem"), my mom was sick and left me to drive my date and myself to the military ball. See that wouldn't be a big deal now, but I was still in the restriction stage of my license, I was not allowed to have someone under age in the car with me. Also, I had only driven my mom's 1984 Z28 Camaro one other time, and I had never parked it in a parking lot.
So we drive to the military ball on base, and I'm pulling into the parking lot at Club Muroc, and I see a sweet parking spot, and I remember thinking, "Finally my luck is turning around." Next thing I remember is a loud crash, a huge thump, and a few other words that I won't repeat here. I hop out of the car, and survey the damage. I had grossly miscalculated how much room I'd need to park and scraped a red car's rear bumper with my front end. Nothing huge, but when you're a hormonal 16 year old that's had a bad week, it's the end of the world. I start crying and freaking out.
A fellow cadet came out and said "Oh my God Nicole, you hit a car!"
In my confusion I started crying out "I'm so sorry I hit your car!"
He grabbed me by the shoulders and said, "No, you didn't. You hit TJ's car." In my panic and shock I turned to look at the car again and realized, oh yes that was TJ's car. How did I not know? A million things flooded my mind, how could I do this? Why his car? Oh my God, he's going to think I did this on purpose! What am I going to tell my mom? And the list goes on.
So finally, I had to go tell TJ the truth. I wanted to run away screaming, any car but TJ's! I went inside, found him and told him. He thought I was joking, and then he saw my tears, ran outside and started yelling "My car! You hit my car!"
He handled it pretty well, and we agreed that we'd go in, have a good time, and deal with it later. The whole night I had many cadets come up to me and say "Did you do it on purpose? That would be awesome if you did!"
Merry Christmas everyone!
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