Pulling Out All of the Stops

So yesterday was Christmas Eve, (yay Christmas!) and Mom and I made the yearly trip to mass to participate in the godliness of it all. While I really do like the yearly trip, I still don't quite get it (all the standing up and sitting down and repeating back- I feel like jumping up and doing a cheer for the football team) this year was quite the experience. You see, this year, I am in a new town. This year I happen to be lucky enough to be living the "posh life" in a posh suburb, where really I live in the only house that hasn't been scraped and/or popped to add another floor, and which also happens to be within walking distance of like, six churches. (Seriously, I am not exaggerating: six churches, two coffee shops, three florists, three bakeries, and a Chinese food joint. I know this because I counted as Mom and I walked around town today.)

Anyway, last night we found our way to the nearest church of proper denomination, where I learned that rich people really like to hear the pipe organ. Loud. I mean, wow. And apparently adding in the fake trumpet sound and the jingle-bells sound makes up for the fact that you have changed the tempo on "Silent Night" at a whim. Oh, and that micro-mini skirts are back in fashion (good news for you boys out there) and that apparently it's OK to pick lint off of other parishioners without introducing yourself. So you see, not only did we learn that we should "bring the mass back to Christmas", we learned that rich does not equal sane...but we all kinda knew that already.

Merry Christmas!