I saw my first dead body today.

No, it wasn't ER's. It was SW's, a 90-year-old woman who just died from old age issues, and who is apparently my grandmother's cousin. My mother was attending ER's funeral, and my grandmother needed someone to go with her to SW's wake, so I figured I could go.

Neither of us expected for there to be an open casket. She had on too much makeup, and looked waxy. I was freaked out at first, and then was a little intrigued. I wanted to touch her and see what a dead person's skin felt like, but figured that was a bad idea. Instead I just stared.

Another death.

It was good to spend time with my grandmother though. While we were eating dinner (before the dead body), my grandmother stopped at one point, as if she remembered something, and asked me what "m f" stands for.

"It's mother fucker, right?"

All I could really do was nod and laugh. If you knew my grandmother, you'd understand why it's funny.

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and I'm such a grinch. I don't even care. But I am excited about the gift I bought for my parents - one of those vhs to dvd recorder things, so they can transfer all the tapes from when my sister and I were kids onto a DVD. I know my father will really like it. Plus I'll get to see the video of me when I was a kid trying to do a somersault.

Will it ever feel like Christmas again?