...and you might say "ok, so your mother came home, big deal"?, but it is a big deal. For once my rich people Christmas at my dearest friend's house isn't going to happen. Her family hates my mother and she hates them back equally. So now she wants us to celebrate her coming home. Why not just throw a party for the official end of the world? Why not gaze moronically at the sky as the first bombs fall through the air? In reality of course, the celebration part is a lie. She just doesn't want to be left alone, so she uses me as an excuse, as always. This Christmas is going to be sort of like a plane crash: horrifying and tragic, but at the same time you just can't help but look.