I am a true expert at Friends (the TV show) trivia. During high school and my first year of college, I was ill a lot. I watched a lot of movies and watched a lot of reruns. One of the shows that I watched more than anything was Friends. I know every episode, I can do most of the episodes by heart. I know everything that happened on that show. To most, its pathetic. I'm 21 years old. The show came on the air when I was 8. How do I know everything about that show? But when stuck in the situation that I was in, I could only turn it into something positive. I instead learned to truly love television for what it really was. A large group of individuals working together to create a 30/60 minute piece of entertainment that allows the average individual the opportunity to break away from their life. It allows the average person to step out of reality for that period of time and forget all the crap that is going on in their lives and instead become involved and concerned with how Ross and Rachel will ever truly be together. It was the same with films. I truly began to love them for what they were. Not just a piece of entertainment, but a piece of art. If it were not for that period in my life, I wouldn't be at the University that I am now, studying film, learning how to create films for myself, to hopefully be able to take my education and create something that one day, a 15 year old, home sick from school can truly enjoy the way I did.

I love Christmas. I really really do. I know that for a lot of people, Christmas is their favorite time of the year, but for me, it is so much more than just a day where I get a lot of stuff. Growing up in New Hampshire, Christmas meant that it was the time when it really started getting cold. It was when you started having to go out to your car 10 minutes early and turn it on so you didn't freeze when you went to go to work in the morning. It meant waking up and being so cold you didn't want to get out of bed. It meant going up into the attic with my mom and digging through all the other decorations to find the 87 boxes that said "Christmas" on them. It meant Christmas cookies and Pork Pie and French Toast Casserole and Egg Souffle. When I was really little it meant waking up before everyone else, going to wake my brother up, waking up my parents and then waiting with my brother for my dad to set up the video camera because everything, down to him and I entering the room, had to be captured on tape Christmas morning. It meant snow. Christmas was the best time. We would go and cut down our own tree. Walking through a valley of trees to find the "perfect tree". Or as I liked to call it "Alfie", after the John Denver and the Muppets Christmas Album song. My mother couldn't have the cookie cutter tree. It couldn't be perfectly triangular. It had to be slightly awkward looking and disheveled. She looked for the tree that had random open patches in it to fit her real bird nests in, most of which she found on previous trees. We would then drive home, my dad and brother in the truck with the tree, and my mom and I following to make sure that the tree didn't fall off. Which it often did. We'd get the tree home and my dad would fight with it for a good hour before it would be up and ready. And then it had to sit for a day before it could be fully decorated. And that usually meant it fell down during the night. With the lights and Angel on top. How the porcelain angel never broke, is beyond me. Now Christmas is so different. I live most of my year out in Los Angeles, thousands of miles away from my family in New England. There is no snow. There is no reason to warm your car up in the morning and I haven't needed to wear mittens the entire time I have been here. Christmas to me means so much more than what it meant when I was little. Now it means going home. The flight home is horrendous. Often getting stuck in the sky for longer than neccessary due to weather. But stepping off that plane into our small New Hampshire airport is all I need to feel in the Christmas spirit. That first rush of cold air is perfect. It's like New Hampshire was purposely waiting for me before getting wicked cold. It's almost as if the entire state is waiting for me to become Christmas-y. Christmas also means some of the most beautiful music ever written. There is nothing like listening to Christmas music on my way to school, sitting at my desk working or sitting on that horrible 9 hour plane ride home. The music becomes part of me and every year I want to start it a little earlier. It's one of my favorite things about going to Advent Mass. Each Sunday during Advent the music is so beautiful, playing some of my favorite Christmas songs that have been imbeded into popular culture but I am lucky enough to sing aloud when I go to Mass. The songs remind me of being 10 and going to Mass every weekend with my parents. Our Priest would play O Come O Come Emmanuel every Sunday in Advent as the opening and closing processional song. My father came to hate the song, but for me, it meant Christmas. The only latin words I truly know are the words I learned by singing Christmas songs. I know Christmas songs in French, German and Latin. Being able to sing these beautiful songs in a different language makes them all the more special. This time of the year is so wonderful. People are brought together simply to be together. This year is extra special. I am going home to see every single member of my family, where we welcome a new baby. My brother is, hopefully in a financial state where he can propose to his girlfriend, adding more love to our family. As we get older, our family keeps growing and being able to get together for this holiday makes me realize how lucky I am to be able to go home and see everyone. And how thankful I am that Christmas is so special to everyone I love that makes them want to gather when I go home.