| | MERRY CHRISTMAS, Everyone! (And everything, but we won't go into that tonight.  )
Today was awesome! Everything was great! And, we went to church! Many big denominational churches actually made US headlines for... SKIPPING SERVICE! I even know a bunch of people there! But of all the Christmas's of the past years, and of all the Sundays ever, This was a day to worship! 
So we all got a ton of things, like Ping Pong tables and stuff, but You'll have to talk to me for any details. My greatest apologies to those good friends of mine who don' have IM. You should have asked for it for Christmas. Oh well, I shall e-mail you then. See how hard you make my life! But I shall write about one of my presents, since I know that's what everyone always asks anyway. I got a Deluxe Special Edition Soundtrack 2 Disk set of The Phantom of the Opera! Hurrah! It's really fully loaded! It's got ALL the music, almost ALL the talking, and all the related sound effects, including the Sword fight! Yay! I listened to the WHOLE thing, which was over 2 hours!
So Merry Christmas, late by 11 minutes. Humph. But here is a poem that is really awesome, and patriotic. Enjoy. Later, folklings. 
NOTE: On this rare occasion, the following poem is NOT written by me.
Twas the night before Christmas
He lived all alone
in a one bedroom house made of
plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney
with presents to give,
and to see just who
in this home did live.
I looked all about,
a strange sight I did see,
no tinsel, no presents,
not even a tree.
No stocking by mantle,
just boots filled with sand,
on the wall hung pictures
of far distant lands.
With medals and badges,
awards of all kinds,
a sober thought
came through my mind.
For this house was different,
it was dark and dreary,
I found the home of a soldier,
once I could see clearly.
The soldier lay sleeping,
silent, alone,
curled up on the floor
in this one bedroom home.
The face was so gentle,
the room is such disorder,
not how I pictured
a United States soldier.
Was this the hero
of whom I 'd just read?
Curled up on a poncho,
the floor for a bed?
I realized the families
that I saw this night,
owed their lives to these soldiers
who were willing to fight.
Soon round the world,
the children would play,
and grown-ups would celebrate
a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom
each month of the year,
because of the soldiers,
like the one lying here.
I couldn't help wonder
how many lay alone,
on a cold Christmas eve
in a land far from home.
The very thought
brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees
and started to cry.
The soldier awakened
and I heard a rough voice,
"Santa don't cry,
this life is my choice;
I fight for freedom,
I don't ask for more,
My life is my God,
my country, my Corps."
The soldier rolled over
and drifted to sleep,
I couldn't control it
I continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours,
so silent and still
and we both shivered
from the cold night's chill.
I didn't want to leave
on that cold, dark night,
this guardian of honor
so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over,
with a voice soft and pure,
whispered, "Carry on Santa,
It's Christmas day, all is secure."
One look at my watch,
and I knew he was right.
"Merry Christmas my friend
and to all a good night."
This poem was written by a Marine stationed in Okinawa, Japan.
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it was supposed to hide my identity...alas, a failure for those who know my poor poem-writing skills too well. 
