There are only a few times a year when I feel Jewish. Passover, Yom Kippur, and Hanukkah. The first two are obvious. My food intake is disrupted and that causes me to complain to my gentile friends. Hanukkah's also pretty obvious, seeing as how I've been bombarded with Christmas crap since October. I actually like Christmas, though. This will be only the second year of my life that I don't have a Christmas tree. However, even though I'm in the capital of politcally correct, I have yet to see a single Hanukkah decoration. I spend a lot of time at the mall because that's where my gym is. Everywhere is red and green garland, lights, and a giant pile of present with a red throne in front, where Santa sits and talks to the kiddies. As a sidenote, I'm surprised that this Santa tradition still exists. Who wants their small children to sit on an old man's lap? Yeah I thought so.
So anyway. I have yet to see a single aknowledgement of Hanukkah. I'm sure I could go home to redneck ass San Diego and see more. True that Carmel Valley is basically Little Jerusalem, but you know. This is San Francisco.
Today Hailee's mom sent Chelsea and I a package. It contained a pair for each of us of Rudolph socks and a box of Mrs. Field cherry candy canes. Of course I'm not peeved at this at all because I think it's pretty much of the nicest things ever, but I had to chuckle at myself. I'm not gonna lie. Gelt would've been cool.
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