Christmas Eve Evening

Standing in church next to people who can sing, makes me feel like I can, too. Especially during Christmas Eve candlelight service, when it's all music and people, the usual and the unusual, and the voices swell around me in familiar all-ye-faithfully-coming tones and for a minute or two, I open my voice and I can sing.

Not sure the people next to me would agree, but hey, the wife had her eyes closed the whole time. "This is my treat," she told me, and a few moments later, the women behind us. "I don't come here regularly but I come here on Christmas Eve to treat myself to the beautiful music."

I treated myself to cold sesame noodles and General Tso's shrimp from the Chinese restaurant between church and home. I don't go there regularly, but on Christmas Eve - ah, who am I kidding. They deliver to me so much I'm in danger of becoming Sandra Bullock in "Two Week's Notice" (shut up, I saw it and I liked it): all I have to do is give my address and they know my order. (Yes, that was also Miranda in "Sex and the City" but isn't Sandra a more horrifyingly guilty-pleasure reference? We're talking cold sesame noodles, dude. Those things alone are probably the cause of my sudden eligibility for "The Biggest Loser 2.")

No, this isn't a contest for how many diverse pop culture references I can fit into one entry. But not a bad idea for next time...