Thursday, January 31, 2008

rebuttal to an EXTREMELY rude comment

Honestly, why read a blog that you don't agree with? Why waste your time, just to post flamingly rude comments? I don't search for blogs about subjects that don't interest me, or that I am opposed to.

This TROLL posted this comment in response to my post about hating coffee; here is my response.
So let me get this straight. Had these 4 people came out with ice cream, pork rinds,
I have never eaten pork rinds in my life, and I know no one who has, of any weight. They are a Southern thing. I live in New England.
candy bars or maybe a 64 oz soda you would have waited for them to pump their gas? It's almost as if you feel they were being inconsiderate by them getting a cup of coffee and paying for the gas at the same time. Your solution would be for them to go in, pay for gas, then come out without coffee and pump their gas?
It's clear to me that Troll is not from the USA. People pay AT THE PUMP with credit cards, as all of these people did after going inside for their coffee. There is no need to go inside to get gas unless you are paying with cash, which hardly anyone does.
This would make the world rotate just a bit faster for you?
I don't even know what the hell this means, or why I would want it.
It wasn’t too cold for you to go out and feed your face the night before but god forbid after you’ve satisfied that insatiable appetite you battle Mother Nature’s elements to get gas. Maybe next time you skip dinner, wear a heaver [sic] jacket and get your fat lazy ass out of the car and pump your precious petrol the night before.
Here is where Troll gets into stereotypes. Troll has no idea if I had a jacket on or not, or what I had for dinner, or why I went out--I believe I was meeting a friend I hadn't seen for a while. Troll infers, because I mentioned eating, that I have an "insatiable appetite" when I routinely bring home half my dinner when I go out to eat, or share it with someone there. But it is easier to assume things about overweight people than bother to find out the truth.
Don't blame your ignorance and flat out laziness on mine or anyone else’s cup of coffee.
I'm not sure how disliking the Coffee Culture makes me ignorant. I know others who hate coffee and feel the same way about it. I guess they are ignorant too. And why is it lazy to want to pump gas when it's light out rather than when it's dark? How does Troll know if the gas station I go to is in a bad area; maybe it's unsafe at night. And as far as lazy goes, any of my real readers know I work out at least 3 times a week for an hour or more each time. How lazy is that? It's more than most skinny people I know.
You want to know why America is fat? It’s not due to coffee cup holders on shopping carts I guarantee you that! Unless of course in your case you stuff it full of Hostess Cupcakes since you won’t be using it what it was intended for.
Here's another stereotype. Hostess cupcakes? I haven't had anything like that in YEARS. I can't even remember the last time I had Hostess anything. And if you've ever tried to steer a shopping cart when your hand is pushed into an unnatural position by a coffee cup holder, you would understand my annoyance.
Odd thing though, I don’t see fat people drinking coffee. I see them drinking soda. And not a 12 oz can but the biggest mammoth size super big gulp cup of sugar they can get their sausage like fingers on.
How do you know what's in that cup? Could be diet soda.
Things such as coffee may increase their heart rates to the point of cardiac arrest.
Even if the fat person you refer to was drinking soda, most soda has caffeine in it. So that comment doesn't make any sense whatsoever. If fat people drink a lot of Coca-Cola (which contains caffeine) , as you claim, then why would they avoid coffee because it has caffeine in it? As far as cardiac arrest goes, I don't think anyone could drink that much coffee. Even a fat person.
It pretty much boils down to the fact that no amount of coffee can satisfy a fat persons [sic] need for the common 5 gallon bucket of sugary Coca Cola which will one day cause their ultimate demise.
Again, how do you know it's not diet soda which has no calories? Why assume?
In closing while the rest of the population such as you can enjoy their diabetes, heart disease, kidney failure and premature death, I’ll be the skinny guy at the pump drinking my coffee.
I hope you choke on it, because that's how much sympathy you have toward me and my readers.

Monday, January 28, 2008

lymphedema


I watched the show "My big foot" last night on TLC. Someone had posted a comment on this blog saying I should watch it, as I also have lymphedema.
This woman's case was much worse than mine. She had it since she was 2 and a dresser fell on her leg, so over 40 years (I'm going on 6). Her leg was ulcerous with bacterial and fungal infections and really pretty nasty. The grossest part was when she was shopping with her daughter and sticking those fungal-infested toes, bare, into shoes to show how they don't fit. At the beginning of the show they said she has never had treatment, but later on they revealed that someone did treat her for free 7 years before, reduced her leg size by 11 centimeters, and then she quit coming and never returned. The show crew finds her someone else to treat her leg for free, and she goes for six weeks, and halves it in size (from 40+ inches to 20+) but then again they said it was swollen double from infections, so maybe all they did was treat the infections? Although her leg still looked scaly and infected even when it was much smaller.
A doctor diagnosed her as having a primary lymph edema and said it was hereditary and often brought on by a fall or other trauma (as mine was). He asked if she had other relatives with "big legs" and she said maybe an aunt.
Which got me thinking. My father's late aunt had a bad leg. She kept it wrapped in pressure stockings and it usually had one or more weeping ulcers, and the fluid from them came right through the gauze and pressure bandages (like an ace bandage, but one big piece shaped like a leg). The skin on that leg when it was unbandaged was crocodily like this womans. I wonder if that aunt had lymph edema? I don't remember her ever giving it a name. It seems to me it might have been swollen a bit, but I can't remember. She had problems with this leg when I was a child, so she had it for a good 30 years before she died. When I was a teenager, she would go on long walks (because her leg was "good" and if it was lymph edema like I suspect, the walks probably made it "good"--she was a very sedentary person otherwise), but by the end of her life a few years back she was fragile and couldn't even walk up stairs, and her leg was very bad.
I know she left the stocking on for days at a time, with it weeping and bleeding through, waiting to go to the doctor's to get it changed, or later on for a nurse to come to the house. I always thought that made it worse, that it should breathe.
Anyway, back to the show. At the end, the woman from Florida had to wear pressure stockings for the rest of her life. The other woman briefly profiled, who went for liposuction to take the remaining 5 liters of fat from her edema leg, also had to wear them forever. I didn't understand that woman. Her leg was exactly like mine, the same size (although mine has a lot of fluid in it at that size; hers was all adipose tissue) and she complained that she couldn't walk or do anything. They sucked out the fat (liposuction is disgusting and watching it makes me feel faint) and did indeed make her legs the same size, but at the price of those painful stockings. You can't put them on without help. Do these people have live-in maids or something? The woman in Florida used her daughter as a nurse and claimed every morning it took her 3 HOURS to wash and dress her leg (before the pressure bandages)--but it was still ulcered, cracked, infected and disgusting--she even apologized for how bad it smelled.
My husband's out the door before I'm out of bed; if I was prescribed these stockings, I'd have to go to my mom's to get dressed with help every day. And when I got out of the pool, I'd have to go without.
The picture is the second one posted here that's actually me, and that's my edema leg. You can see where the pants (loose on the other leg) are cutting into the top of my calf, and the fold just above my foot (which I hate). It was taken on my recent vacation. I hate when other people take pictures of me. The picture I took of my friend in the same location is her from head to mid-thigh, and she almost fills the shot. The pictures she took of me are from 20 feet away and I'm about an inch tall and all that one sees is my enormous body.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

choosing to be fat

A new book, The Fattening of America, argues that Americans CHOOSE to be fat. According to this article, "being overweight has become less of a health hazard and more of a lifestyle choice". Says the author: "Obesity is a natural extension of an advancing economy. As you become a First World economy and you get all these labor-saving devices and low-cost, easily accessible foods, people are going to eat more and exercise less."
He says, "Even if private industry and government take steps to protect society against the costs of obesity, many Americans "will likely continue to choose a diet and exercise regimen that leads to excess weight," because losing weight requires too many lifestyle sacrifices, his book warns.

Okay, I think this is a little simplistic. People may choose not to work out and to eat unhealthy foods, but they are not CHOOSING to be fat. No one wakes up and says "I wish I weighed 350 lbs!"

In fact, at the end of the article, a woman who is going for bariatric surgery argues just that:
"I would not doubt that if you asked obese people if they could push a button and not be obese, close to 100 percent would say they would push the button."

I'd push the button. Damn, where's the button? Don't talk about the button if there is no button!
screenprint of article

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

lol cat

Funny Pictures
moar funny pictures

back from vacation

I am back from vacation. I wanted to do a positive upbeat posting and focus on the fun things that happened to me while I was there, getting tan and tattooed.
I walked a lot, every day. I didn't eat much (my friend doesn't like ethnic food, and we only ate at American chain restaurants, which upset me), and the food didn't taste like home (things I eat at home at those chains) and everything was horribly expensive, like $3-4+ for a can of diet soda or bottle of water, and I drink a lot with my meals, and there's no free water, so I spent way too much money on liquids down there. A bottle of spring water in our hotel room was $8! Across the street at 7-11, the same bottle was $.89. What a rip off. The food at the chains was $3-4 more per dish than at home. Something I get for $3.99 up here was $7.99 down there, for instance. An 8-oz hamburger and fries was usually $12-$15, plus a couple of sodas brings it up to $20 or more.
I actually think I might have lost some weight, between walking and swimming for hours every day, and only nibbling on food for my meals. When I went back to the pool yesterday (my tattoo was a week old and safe for swimming) my belt was too big and I had to take it in a inch.
I don't want to go into a lot of details on where I went or what I did. Suffice to say it was in another country, there was a beach there (overrated, IMHO), and cool places to go and walk around. Our hotel was on the water and had 2 gorgeous pools that I spent a lot of time in. We spent a day snorkeling at a eco-park (lost my favorite sunglasses there. argh). Fun, fun, except for the overly expensive food and drink. Between the outrageous cost of food, and our hotel room getting burgled, we kind of ran out of cash money halfway through. So the last 2 days we just stayed at the hotel and charged food to our room (ate in sucky hotel restaurant) and played in the pool and ocean instead of doing the things we had planned to do when we had money.
I had not one but two layovers on the way home. I had decided to upgrade to first class for the $50 a flight, because after a week of walking a lot and driving a lot (I drove over 1,000 miles in the first three days) my legs were toast. No first class available. I begged for aisle seats. Got one out of three.
The first one wasn't so bad. The flight was early, and I had to go through customs, and even with the early flight I almost didn't make it because I got snagged by security and practically strip-searched. The ace bandage wrapped around my edema caused them all kinds of consternation, especially when I explained that if they made me take it off, they'd have to wind it back on for me. I used a velcro ace bandage, no metal, and they scanned it and swabbed it and stared at me. They took apart my carry-on luggage. I kept setting off their damn beeper. I was housed in a small clear cage in the middle of security, unable to sit or do anything but stand there and beg to be let go, because my flight was going to leave in 7 minutes. Finally they determined that it was my BRA HOOKS--the 12 or 15 of them down the front--which kept setting off the alarm. I begged for a ride on a golf cart and got to the gate as they were calling my flight. No aisle seats. They gave me the exit row. Great. I'm in pain, I can't walk, and I'm supposed to help people climb out of the plane in an emergency? That's good planning.
So that flight wasn't too bad either, and I was feeling okay about the whole thing. I mean, my leg HURT...it really HURT...it was the fattest and reddest it's been in years...and I was having definite problems walking. But they were being good about shuttling me around with the golf carts. I asked for one, and there it was when I got off the plane, and it took me and another lady (who just had hip surgery following a bout of cancer) off to our next flight.
And there the problems started. They wouldn't let me take my carry-on bag as carry on, even though my laptop was in it. So I had to try to stuff my laptop into my backpack. If the laptop fit in the backpack, that's where I'd carry it. I had to take all my electronics and put them in the backpack, so it was heavy and awkward, because it also had a bunch of paperback novels in it. Finally we went onto the plane. The first plane had been 6 seats across. The second, 4. This one was 3. I was by myself. The seats were so narrow I literally couldn't fit in them, and the seatback was so close I couldn't straighten out my legs. I was sitting with my spine several inches from the back of the seat, my thighs at a 10-15 degree angle with my knees pressed painfully into the seat in front of me.
It's only a 57 minute flight. I can deal, I thought. I had requested a golf cart meet me at Bradley. I'd be fine. My husband would be at the baggage claim area. I called him and said that I was having a very hard time and I was in a lot of pain and I'd need major help at the airport as I wasn't sure I'd be able to walk when I got off the plane.
Then the plane taxied away. I turned off my phone and tried to get comfortable, but it was impossible. The plane stopped and the pilot said we'd be at least an hour on the ground, waiting on the runway. For a 57 minute flight. I couldn't get up--literally. I managed to get a blanket and wrapped it around my head for a pillow. The stewardess came up to me and said there were no golf carts and could I use a wheelchair instead? I didn't want a wheelchair but I said okay. Eventually we took off, flew 57 minutes and landed.
Then the real fun began.
Remember, I was crippled with pain, unable to even get out of the seat. I'd just come from the tropics. It was in the high 20s in Connecticut, and icy.
And there were STAIRS to get off the plane. The stewardess told me to wait until everyone else was off. Someone carried my backpack down the steep stairs. And here comes someone with a wheelchair so narrow one of my legs wouldn't fit into it. He looked at me and said "I didn't know what I was going to be dealing with" (like I'm not a human?!) He said there was no other wheelchair. That I had to walk across the icy tarmac, find my carry-on, carry it and my backpack up 2 flights of steps, all the way to the far end of the concourse, down 2 flights of steps and to the baggage claim. No elevators. (How were they going to get me up and down the stairs in that little wheelchair, I wonder?)
I made it to the concourse, sat down, and just cried. I could not walk another step. My leg was so fat and swollen and red from fluid and abuse, it looked like it belonged on TV on a freak show. I couldn't even drag it, not carrying two bags.
The flight crew walked by me, including the stewardess who had called for my wheelchair. I must have looked pathetic sitting there crying. No one offered to help or asked if I needed help.
Finally I started to practically crawl, dragging my bags and leg behind me. THEN a different guy showed up with a normal sized wheelchair and loaded me into it and magically even found an elevator. I felt bad, because he was old, and had to push me and drag my bags (my carry on had wheels and I'd looped the backpack over its handle). We had barely gotten downstairs when my husband called to say he'd given up on me and went back to the car to wait. He'd also forgotten one of my bags, so I had to go and walk around in unclaimed baggage and find that. I was stumbling like a drunk, still crying, in such pain I can't explain it. He got mad at me, started yelling at me in the car "was it worth it!? Look at you!" like I had gone off with an ex boyfriend instead of my (female) friend from out of state. We stopped at a Denny's to eat and he said something really cruel--he said I was walking like my father, who had neurological damage, because I was stumbling and holding onto everything I could grab. I tried to laugh, but I thought it was mean. One, because my father is dead now, and he suffered horribly before he died and it's nothing to joke about, and two, because my husband seemed to feel that he was vindicated in being mean to me because I went on vacation without him (he didn't want to go! he forgets that part). But he says he is never mean to me.
So I am back now, and except for the last 3 hours I had a pretty good time.

Thursday, January 03, 2008

overweight men charged double; kicked out of buffet

This short article says 2 men weighing under 300 lbs were charged double and banned from a buffet they ate at 3x a week.
A 6-foot-3, 265-pound man says a restaurant overcharged him for his trips to the buffet line, then banned him and a relative because they're hearty eaters.....On his most recent visit, he said, a waitress gave him and his (guest), a bill for $46.40, roughly double the buffet price for two adults. She says, 'Y'all fat, and y'all eat too much,' (They) said they felt discriminated against because of their size....A waitress told him he looked like he a had a "baby in the belly."
Nice. Reminds me of the time a fat friend and I went out to eat and when we ordered dessert the waitress said "you want MORE food?" (We had split an appetizer and each had a single entree--how is that excessive?) and then told us we had to leave because they needed our table (there were many empty tables, so that was a lie). I complained to the corporate office, got a lot of free food, and that bitch still works there. If she is unlucky enough to get my table on my infrequent visits to that place, she gets no tip. Ever. I don't care if the bill is $300, I wouldn't tip her a penny, and let her EVER say anything to me about it because I'll remind her what she said and did to me and my friend.
The accountant for the buffet story gave this excuse: the men were charged an extra $10 each on Dec. 21 because they made a habit of dining exclusively on the more expensive seafood dishes, including crab legs and frog legs. "We have a lot of big people there (.) We don't discriminate."
Saying someone is fat and looks pregnant isn't discrimination?
Screenprint

Wednesday, January 02, 2008

fast food is worse for the obese!?


According to this article, fast food (while not good for anyone) is even worse for obese and overweight people.
(Eating a high-fat, high-carb fast food meal produces damaging cellular changes that are greater and longer-lasting in obese people than in normal-weight people.
These changes reverse themselves?
(Reseachers) looked at inflammation and oxidative stress, which occurs when levels of normal byproducts of metabolism known as free radicals exceed the body's ability to neutralize them.....(Researchers) had 10 normal-weight and 8 obese people eat a 1,800-calorie meal consisting of a large hamburger, a large serving of fries, a large cola, and a slice of apple pie.
(I might eat the hamburger and fries, but not the cola (I'm assuming non-diet) and never the pie. Hate pie. Ick.)
Both groups showed increases in oxidative stress two hours after eating the meal. By three hours, oxidative stress had returned to baseline levels in the normal-weight individuals, but it continued to climb in the obese individuals. The same pattern was seen for inflammation.
And of course these cause all kinds of diseases. Fruit good, hamburger bad.
Link to screenprint.

700 lb man dies after WLS

I wonder if they hold the obesity news until around January 1 when everyone is making their New Year's resolutions to exercise and lose weight, to scare us all into doing so?
Here's another WLS death story:
A man who weighed 698 pounds died Friday of heart failure after undergoing an operation to remove 80 percent of his stomach in a desperate effort to reduce his weight.
Carlos Marroquin, 47, was so heavy at the time of Thursday's operation that hospital workers used a forklift to place him on the operating table.
He had two heart attacks in 20 minutes and died. It's not clear if he died on the table or afterward.
There's not much detail to it at all, as a matter of fact.
link to screenprint.

Tuesday, January 01, 2008

half ton mum, world's heaviest woman, dies after WLS

The timing of seeing this, just after watching those 2 shows last night, was uncanny. Renee was 29 and weighed 70 stone (980 lbs). She is the largest person to ever have weight loss surgery, but it killed her after she lost 56 lbs in 2 weeks. It's not clear what kind of surgery she had, but doctors mentioned a band so either a VBG or a lapband.
The problem is that she lacked a sense of fullness. "When you don't have that thing in your head that tells you you're full, it's disgusting the amount of food you can eat," she said. Even shrinking her stomach to nothing wouldn't help that. She probably would have burst the band and her stomach and died that way.
In 2003, she was hit by a drunken driver in an accident that left her unable to walk because her leg was crushed. She became bedridden and began eating even more.
That's what scares me. What if I couldn't walk anymore, couldn't go to the pool and do my hopping exercises? What the hell would I weigh? I'm already fat enough to be on TV, as I saw to my dismay last night.
And of course, this brings up the perpetual question in these cases: who was feeding her 8 burgers at a time? "She wouldn't stop eating until her stomach started to hurt," says 13-year-old Mirina (her daughter). "She would get about eight burgers and eat them all."
screenprint of original article

33,000 calories a day

TLC has another couple of shows on obesity:
I Eat 33,000 Calories a Day("Four morbidly obese people struggle with their weight, their addiction to food and rapidly deteriorating health. Two men are bed ridden and require constant care. Two women are dangerously close to becoming housebound.")
and
World's Heaviest Man("The World's Heaviest Man tells the story of 1225lb Manuel Uribe of Monterrey, Mexico and his battle to lose weight and save his own life. Following years of over-eating and an unhealthy lifestyle, Manuel has been confined to his bed for the past 5 years." I'm fairly certain this is the guy who got the free bariatric surgery.)
(if the links don't work, it's not scheduled in the near future, or you can search again)
I'm writing while I watch. The first guy, Larry, the 865 lb. black guy, his family says if they don't feed him, he'll just keep calling for deliveries on his cell phone. He lives on the 5th floor with his dad and niece and hasn't left in 5 years. He lowers money in a bucket to the delivery guy and gets the food that way. Part of me is thinking, "that's clever" and part of me wants to scream at his family to help him somehow, and parts of me want to weep.
These people spend $300-$500 per DAY on food. Per day. I don't spend that in a week, and probably not even in a month. The giant black man claims he eats 2 500 calorie meals a day. He actually eats almost 15,000 calories a day, 700 grams of fat, plus 12 grams of salt. It's 5-6 days of food for an average (ie, slim) man. He could gain 3 pounds of weight in a day. It would take him 12 days of just lying there to burn off 1 days worth of food.
When confronted with a table laid out with a day's worth of food--14,000 calories--he says he it's nothing, that it's a quarter of what he used to eat!
The 2nd woman, the English one, Jackie, weights what I used to: 364. Seeing her in her underwear was like looking in the mirror. I could be on that show? That's pretty sobering, isn't it? She is on the "edge" of being housebound and immobile. She eats 16,000 calories per day, with almost 800 grams of fat, a week's worth of food every day. It would take 2 days straight of brisk walking to burn it off. She claims she only eats 3,000 calories a day. When she sees it all laid out on the table, she says it's no good, but admits she wants to eat it just looking at it. She eats whole loaves of bread, bags and bags of potato chips. Every day.
672 lbs 2 weeks of food in 1 day.
Paul hasn't walked in years and was up to over 868 lbs and he had to be taken out through the wall with a forklift. He did the interview pretty much naked (some sort of white loincloth). Each of his legs was bigger around than a person. It was clear that he couldn't reach most of his body with his hands.
He ate almost 4,000 calories just for breakfast. (I don't even eat breakfast most days.) 2500 more calories for lunch, and then 6,000 calories for supper (four complete meals). He spent $14,000 a year just on chocolate and ate 48 bags of chips per day. Plus 23,000 extra calories in snacks (chips and candy) for almost 40,000 calories a day.
The last woman, Lisa, who lives with her son, has one of those enormous stomach that hangs to her knees. Her mother used to hide food during her childhood. She gets up in the middle of the night to pee and stops to make a meal. She says she thinks about food constantly, and has guilt and shame and depression over her eating. She eats almost 4,000 calories a day just of chocolate.
I like chocolate, but how much is 4,000 calories? Let's figure it out. I like Hershey's bars with almonds. A regular sized bar (41 grams) has 210 calories. That's 1.4 ounces. So for 4,000 calories, one would have to eat...780 grams, or 27 ounces (almost 2 lbs).
She eats almost 10,000 calories a day, for a possible weight gain of 56 lbs per month.
Per month.


The Mexican guy, the world's heaviest man, lives with his mom, in a front room looking out the window, and his goal is to leave the house someday. He blames it on the bad diet he got in the habit of eating in the USA, and the sedentary lifestyle.
He had a nasty bit of lymph edema on his inner thigh when he weighed only 800 lbs and was already bedridden. Most of the surgery was free, I think because it was largely experimental to cut on a guy that large, and they probably thought he would die. It lasted 12 hours and they took 180 lbs of flesh! 180 lbs! Holy shit.
Now he weighs 1230 and he has 3 rock-hard areas of lymph edemas, and combined they weigh over 220 lbs. And he is indeed the guy from Mexico who got offered free surgery a while back...I blogged about it then and there.
There is something sad and uplifting at the same time as he dances, his immense lymph edema legs propped to either side of the bed, trying to lose weight so he can leave his bed and be with his girlfriend, whose obese husband died of a heart attack. He has good teeth and a kind face. He ended up at around 800 lbs.
What I don't understand is that he used to work in the US but he speaks no English?

more on Christmas

My post on hating Christmas has provoked some negative comments.
Why not just go along with Christmas? Well, I'm not a Christian--that's the main reason. The religious aspects of it don't interest me in the slightest. And the commercialism of it disgusts me; I don't want or need any gifts. I believe I said that. So I have to "go along" and spend money I don't have on gifts that the recipients won't like any more than I like my gifts? It seems stupid. I'm an adult, I don't have some kind of pathological need to open gifts on certain days of the year and I'm not sad or disappointed not to get said gifts.
Why not ask for donations? I saw how well that worked when my father died. We put the whole "in lieu of flowers" notice. My MIL (same person who insists on giving gifts) sent flowers. My father's cousin sent flowers. The charity sent us exactly 2 notes saying they had gotten money in my dad's name. Maybe others sent it without referencing him, but I doubt that--and almost a hundred people were at his memorial service do don't tell me only 2 of them would have sent flowers.
And my MIL believes no one is happy if they don't have a pile of gifts, most of them dumb money wasters, in front of them. She would NEVER EVER give a charity donation--there would be nothing to open! And what's ironic is that she lives on the border of poverty half the time, and shouldn't be wasting money on unwanted gifts. And yes, it is a waste. And please don't write to me and say "but it makes her happy to spend money on you." If she really wants to spend money on me, she can pay my electric bill! She could have given me a prepaid debit card to use on vacation.
People really go insane around the holidays. I go to my mom's for a meal because that's what she likes, and she understands the concept of no gifts. If I had the kind of job where I could work on Christmas Day and let someone who cares about the holiday take it off, I would do that. It's just a day to me--all I like about it is having time off from work.
I guess it's all part of being a grown-up.