I cried when my parents told me there was no Santa Claus. It started out as a sniffle, and then all of a sudden, tears trickled down my cheeks to fill the empty void in my heart. No Santa Claus? How was that possible? He ate the cookies and drank the milk, put the perfect gifts under the tree, and even left me a little note thanking me for the sweets. Although I refused to believe them at first, in the years that followed, I, too, thought of Santa as merely a cute story for the kids. Bah, baby stuff. I thought it was entirely childish, up until now.

When my parents told me there was no man named Santa Claus, they were right. There is no way, logically speaking, that a single man can fly around the entire world in a sleigh drawn by nine reindeer and enter every household to deliver presents; some houses are bound to have locks. Someone (who had lots of time on their hands) also mathematically proved that if Santa and his flying species of reindeer were to personally deliver gifts to each household, all 91.8 million of them, his sleigh would have to move at 3,000 times the speed of sound. It may not be that fast in your opinion, but to the 250-pound Santa (thanks for the cookies and milk, kids!) and his reindeer, that rate would be enough to make them all vaporize and combust within 4.26 thousandths of a second. Perhaps that’s why there have been very few eyewitness accounts of seeing Santa Claus. I really do hope that red suit is fire-proof.

If Santa Claus truly did combust and create a small sonic boom every Christmas Eve before his rounds even began, how can we account for all of the holiday miracles we experience in our everyday lives? No, I’m not talking about winning the lottery and not having to pay a single cent in taxes (although that would be nice). I’m thinking of simple things: the postponement of an AP Biology test, the availability of napkins in the cafeteria, not getting eaten alive by the Spanish teacher after explaining that a dog really did eat my homework, being able to make someone smile by retelling a stupid-funny SNL skit. These types of things don’t just happen on their own. There must be some supernatural explanation, probably involving crop circles. We generally aren’t given breaks like this, but around the holidays, free passes seem to be doled out generously like germs on a door handle. Everyone seems to be in a cheery mood (unless your last name starts with an "S" and ends with a "rooge") around this time of year. It could be because of KOST’s long set of commercial-free holiday favorites, but let’s be realistic: it must be because of the magic of Santa.

We’ve always thought of Santa Claus as a jolly, rotund man in a too-tight red suit with a fluffy white beard. Quite frankly, plenty of people look like that. Many of them hang around malls during the holidays. Santa-wannabes aside, have you ever wondered why Santa has always been depicted as exceedingly plump? It’s not because of Mrs. Claus’ cooking, though I’ve heard that every morsel of her meals is delicious and delectable and that every year the elves go nuts over the feast. It’s because Santa is not one person, but a collection of souls who in turn carry out the Christmas spirit. When I was younger, I failed to recognize that Santa was not a single person, oh ho ho no; he needed a break once in a while in order to keep from combusting, and in doing so passed on the job of miracle-working to others around the world.

That being said, I truly think it’s time for a new generation of Santas. I think it’s time to make some miracles happen. It’s not necessary to buy a red suit and fake beard and call up "Rent-a-Reindeer," although those would all be nice touches. Nothing extra is required to meet Santa Standards, for each and every person’s inner-Santa can be brought out through singing "Frosty the Snowman." Sing that song once, and I promise you that you’ll be filling napkin dispensers and training dogs to eat homework for the rest of your lives, all to keep that Christmas spirit alive.

Mark your calendars, folks, ‘cause it’s that time of the year again: Ambiguous Winter Holiday Season, formerly known as "Christmakwanzakuh" before the powers-that-be (Hallmark) realized that Buddhists, Rastafarians, and atheists deserve to cash in on that commercial holiday spirit, too. But regardless of its name, the month of December invariably presents a true present dilemma: what the heck to buy. You could purchase an obnoxious singing snowman (small wonder those are perennially on sale), but unless your giftee LOVES "Jingle Bells" (or you include a complimentary package of earplugs), you might very well find your present repackaged and dumped on your front porch with a tag reading "A Very Frosty Christmas to you, too." Fortunately, with this strategic shopping guide, you can easily avert any gift-related crisis and melt the most frigid of hearts.

There are four basic categories of people to buy presents for:

Besties. These are the best buds who join in your epic Guitar Hero battles, who always let you eat their last few French fries, who are more than happy to see Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince with you five times in a row. You guys are so tight that in their case, being a present tightwad is unforgivable. Each winter, they end up with the costly and sentimental gifts that consume ninety percent of your allowance—and merit every penny of it. This can cause unnecessary drama during gift exchanges, though, as your other friends are bound to notice the glaring disparity in present quality (i.e. Jane demands to know why you gave Sarah a $300 necklace while she only got a "freaking pack of Bubblicious"). You can avoid such childish complaints with a quick solution: simply buy a pack of candy for everyone, dump out the contents, and replace the insides with your more expensive purchases. Mysterious rattling aside, nobody will suspect a thing.

Obligatory Giftees. These are the lab partners, creepy neighbors, mean teammates, and random people in the halls who’ve already informed you that they’re in the process of wrapping up your Christmas present, wink wink, hint hint. According to present protocol, you are now bound by Proprietary Law to reciprocate this gesture, or else you’ll look like a major Scrooge. Failure to comply with the aforementioned rule can result in uncomfortable situations, most notably the wounded puppy look—a heart-wrenching expression forcing you to hastily avert your gaze and stammer, "Why, of course I got you a present. It’s, um, at home," and quickly run off to the store (or simply hope that they’ll forget over Winter Break. Junk food overdoses can do funny things to the memory, not to mention the scale). To remedy this problem, simply stock up on spare presents; that should take care of the jerks who try to dump a big old package of ribbons and guilt on you at the last minute. However, be very careful about the size of these extra gifts: too small, and your own present might be retracted; too big, and it’ll seem as though you actually like this person—and that’s a can of worms you don’t want to deal with.

Teachers. Oh boy. Back in the cruel, cruel world known as middle school, giving presents to teachers was socially taboo, destined to earn sneers of "teacher’s pet." Today, this act can be interpreted as something entirely different and possibly worse: bribery. Things get particularly awkward when you have a borderline grade and you’re vacillating between a Yoda-like "Present. I have. Take it" and "These imported Belgium chocolates are sure to rack up points in your books, sir!" Just to be safe, why not go the traditional suck-up route and present your beloved Calc teacher with fresh apples—or better yet, candy apples (one for $1.50; two for $2.00. Hey, the Pow Wow needs some holiday lovin’ too, you know).

Family (a.k.a. yourself). Gifts to family have a wonderful and unique property: they remain in close proximity long after you give them "away." Consequently, Ambiguous Winter Holiday Season offers the perfect opportunity to subtly purchase all of the things you want. Is your mom allergic to the nutty cookies you just bought her? Why, what a coincidence…that just happens to be your favorite dessert (and what a shame it would be if all that delicious food went to waste)! Is your dad convinced that video games provoke violent tendencies and rot your brain? You would be delighted to put his new copy of COD 3 to good use. The great thing about parents is that they’ll never complain about your gifts. Ever. It’s rule number one in the parenting handbook. Besides, they’re probably sick of receiving your hideous neckties year after year anyway.

Happy holiday shopping!