Only losers don't believe in Santa Claus

Merry Christmas Eve everyone! I need to run to bed so Santa can come. After the fondue (made better by my salty tears of joy) and before the nog and Christmas Eve gifts (always stuff you can wear, courtesy of the McMullins, and this years is extra warm and snuggly) we watched "The Polar Express" on TV, which somehow neither of us had ever seen before. While computer animation always sort of freaks me out, I have to say I enjoyed it much more than I'd anticipated. However, since I am weird sort of idiot savant when it comes to identifying voices in cartoons and commercials, it drove me seriously nuts that Tom Hanks voiced like 14 out of the 16 characters. Also, I almost didn't get past the scene in the traincar with the misfit toys, due to the unexplainable inclusion of the clown from Poltergeist, because from my point of view a toy that is possessed by evil and tries to kill you should hardly discarded and refurbished for another unsuspecting tot, and that almost forced me to turn the movie off altogether as clowns and Christmas Do. Not. Mix.

But I digress. The point of the movie seemed to be, if you believe in Santa you get presents, and if you don't you can never hear a bell ring again. Me, I sort of like bells, so I'd better get to bed. I didn't finish my glass of nog, which is still sitting on the coffee table by the tree, so I figure Santa can enjoy that if he cares to. But I like bells. And presents. So count me as a believer.