I like Christmas, sometimes. I like giving presents to people that I love, I like walking around my house singing silly carols.

But then my house suddenly becomes flooded with people who I've known since I was born, but who I don't really know. People filter off into their little groups and I sit in my room alone. I wish my friends were here with me, I wish my house wasn't so noisy, and full of spilled gravy and burnt bread.

There's always something about the holidays that really makes me want to shoot myself.