8:00 IN THE MORNING and Bing Crosby Season Vows

So my wonderful father has spoken.  I will wake up at 8:00am every morning from now on because the one thing he hates the most is when we sleep until noon.  Even though it's definitely winter break and I definitely have zero things to do.  So here I am, 9:40am on the day before Christmas, wondering what on Earth I should do.  I already made myself and my brother breakfast (french toast for me, 2 over-easy eggs for him).  For thirty minutes I haven't been able to think of anything to do but to steam a little bit about how my daddy wants me to wake up at 8:00am.  I'm taking a small amount of delight in the fact that in this case, there seems to be way too many hours in the day.

I'm not planning on leaving the house today because the day before Christmas is when the streets turn into Crazy Town, with angry shoppers recklessly making their way to last-minute shopping and picked-over dregs in the deserted aisles of department stores.  The one day I went shopping, half the mall black out, which quite literally led to a bunch of shoplifting (from Sephora mostly), borderline rioting, and frustration from mall patrons.  "A week before Christmas and the mall ISN'T WORKING???" I know, right? You'd think they'd have some kind of back-up power generator.  They did.  It ran out.  I had also sort of planned on not buying myself anything for this Christmas.  It's my Bing Crosby Season Vow.

What's a Bing Crosby Season Vow, you ask? Other than something I just made up, it's a promise I make to myself for the week before Christmas.  I decided to not buy myself anything because the Christmas I grew up with was filled with surprises and elation and not-knowing-what's-under-that-wrapping-paper-ness.  I can't shake this feeling that buying myself things for Christmas is no different than buying myself things during any other time of year, except that I have to wait however long until Christmas to actually use the purchase.  It's not a good feeling.  So, sad as it sounds, I told myself that I would rather not get anything at all than to get myself stuff.  I'm depressing.  D:

In the span of the twelve minutes I've spent on this blog post, I've thought of two things I could possibly do.  I could give the Julia/Julia Project Blog another go (I got so bored of her complainings the first time), or I could finish up my episodes of Gargoyles, which is one of the best 90's cartoons ever.  I love Gargoyles. :) Which is why I'm probably going to save that for later and I try to read Julie/Julia again.  Hmm.

Behold: 

La tostada francesa difícil de alcanzar!!!