I have to say that Die Hard is probably my favorite Christmas movie. That's not really the point of this post, as this post really has no point; I'm just at my sister's place right now, watching my nephew make a movie with his Spider-Man camera, a film which involves Spider-Man and Doctor Octopus being flung together at high speeds by his hands. It's not exactly Harryhausen, but what's a kid gonna do? He's now talking to me about making a matte painting of a building, although he has no idea what a matte is, and he's going to be using crayons, but the concept is there.
I might add that Christmas dinner at my sister's place was pizza. I hate pizza.
I got boots for Christmas; boots that are about a size or a size and a half too small. That is what I got, in its entirety. That's not entirely true, since I bought a GeForce FX 5500 yesterday, but then checked the specs out on the internet prior to opening it, and finding out that the card is a piece of garbage, which will be going back to its point of origin tomorrow. I'm considering picking up a 6800 next week, which ought to take me through for a while, at least until I move up to getting a PCI-X chipset.
World of Warcraft has taken over the non-work part of my life. I'm playing on my friend's account, since I don't have broadband, and I lack any desire to download patches of thirty-plus megs in size, but I've managed to play for about seventy-five hours in the last several weeks, and have gotten my Troll Shaman up to level 25, complete with over 150 points in Leatherworking, which makes me just short of being able to make those Night Elves the gimp-suits they've been wanting so badly.
In any case, that was my Christmas, which rated about on par with my birthday for being a giant, steaming load of crap. Pity the restaurants aren't even open for me to go get something to eat.