Dear kids, Santa is a myth

There I was, sweating in my bed,
visions of curry and coconuts in my head.
Then out my window there came such a clatter,
I rolled out of bed to see what was the matter.

When I realized much to my dismay,
there were the construction workers, drilling away.
Of all the ways to wake, that was certainly the best,
no family, no St. Nick, not even a good night's rest.

So in turn, I spent my Xmas going around to tell all the children that Santa isn't real. Then I realized that all of the little children are Buddhist and they don't care about Santa.
I'm kidding, Xmas wasn't that bad, but it was very strange and I certainly wished I was at home. I woke up to a messy apartment, wrote some emails, went to lunch with family friends, watched Roman Holiday, went to dinner, went to sleep, and went to work the next day. If you've never seen Roman Holiday, it's a good one. Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck. It's no National Lampoon's Xmas Vacation (right Danno?), but it was a good film. I heard it was unseasonably warm back home. I assure you friends, it was warmer here. It was actually just plain hot.
I went to a Xmas Eve candlelight service at ECB (Evangelical Church of Bangkok) which is led by an American ministry team. We sang a song about Jesus to the tune of Rudolph the red nosed reindeer. I little hokey, but as close to home as I could get.
I'm working every day this week, which is powerfully not cool. Mais, c'est la vie. On the bright side, this Friday night I'm off to the beach for four days. Excellent. See you chaps soon.

Jordan