Dear Santa, this year I want….

Good Ol’ Saint Nick,

For the past few years, the gifts that you’ve stuffed in my stocking have been interesting (to say the least). I appreciate that you and the elves take the time to make all of these goodies but there are a few things that I don’t want for Christmas this year.

I would really appreciate it if you stop giving me deodorant. I have been receiving about three sticks of antiperspirant from you every year since middle school and, honestly, your gifts make me feel a little self-conscious. Why do you think that I need so much deodorant? Do I really sweat that much? Can you smell my sweat all the way from the North Pole?

Also, I politely request that you stop leaving packs of Haynes underwear in my stocking. First of all, it’s uncomfortable to open the undies in front of my dad, especially when they are hot pink with little hearts and cupcakes on them. Also, the wrapped underwear packs look very similar to a rolled up sweater. It’s quite the let down every year; I grab the gift expecting a cute cardigan but tear the wrapping paper off only to find some granny panties.

Now I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or greedy, but it is important that you know I have a sufficient supply of deodorant and underwear. Because of my “selfless” personality, I request that you give my share of deodorant and underwear to some lucky girls and boys; these goodies have brought countless smiles to my face and I hope that I can share the happiness with others.

With much love,
Brooke Shimasaki

Dear Mr. Claus:

I’ve haven’t asked much of you in the past, and I don’t intend to change that any time soon. So this year, I have but one request for you: a policy reaffirming essential, standardized, eternal & necessary truths (PRESENT).

By wrapping up all school policies into a simple, 10,000 page document, the PRESENT would anticipate all possible changes in regulations over the next millenium, and is estimated to save over $1 billion, adjusted for inflation, in paychecks for superintendents. Vague, inconsistently enforced, or unpopular policies such as the social media contract (unrelated to The Social Contract, a political science tract that’s actually worth the paper it’s written on), the tardy policy (which can be flouted by barrel-rolling over the fence from Julia Morgan to sneak into school late), the dress code (sexist against men with big abs, like the ones on the Abercrombie bags), and the football-gets-first-priority policy would be clarified for all present and future students. A PRESENT would have so much power that we could override federal or even international decision making, so we could finally live out my dream of building a nuclear arsenal in the science lab. Moreover, annoyingly illiterate underclassmen would be forced to read through the policy: WASC projects a 300% increase in reading scores if PRESENT is implemented.

Some whiny fools, including those pesky protesters from The Bruin Voice, might argue that a PRESENT is oppressive, taking away basic civil liberties by forcing students to do what an administration arbitrated in the year 2015, which people from the future will say is far too reactionary, and rednecks in the present say is far too lib’rul. However, Santa, you know how to travel through time (how else do you distribute gifts throughout an entire time zone all at once?) so travelling to the future to check up on what kind of morals society has (they probably worship Steve Jobs and Taylor Swift and are ruled by social justice Nazis from Tumblr) should be easy for you. Past leadership might’ve rejected a PRESENT, and few other schools have been so ambitious, but our glorious czar — I mean, administration — has been sufficiently prolific in approving previous changes to the school’s rules and regulations, so how could they possibly say no?

A PRESENT is a solution to all of Bear Creek’s problems. In lieu of selfish demands for myself, I beseech you! Give the school a present!

Aidan Backus

Dear SantaBro,

Greetings, bro! This is Easter Bunny here. Yeah, it’s been like, what, a couple years since we last got together at your joint at the North Pole? I remember we drank some God-awful hot cocoa that your elf maid made for us. Well, at least she was pretty hot.

Anyways, I have a favor to ask again. You see, my henchmen bunnies are suffering quite a bit from these Ebola outbreaks and the deforestation that these ungrateful humans are bringing upon our environment. I don’t get why we still have to do all these time-consuming jobs for them. Back to the point: I need to borrow your elves to hide the Easter eggs all over the world.

I get that the elves need to work 25/7 to build all the toys you send to the “good” children around the world, but if I don’t get some helping hands, I would have to do all the work, and I ain’t about that life. Besides, we all know that these children are all naughty and spoiled, always demanding this and that.

Also, I might even lose my job. You see, my popularity has been going down lately and not a lot of kidss seem to believe that I exist. Ungrateful brats. Yeah, I really need your help, broski.

Easter “Sam Park” Bunny

P.S.: Toothie Fairy wishes you greetings also.

Dear Santa,

The only wish I have this year is for world peace and every one to unconditionally love one another.

I’m just kidding with you old man. I’m going to keep it real because that was a load of bull****. As you well know by now I’m quite cynical and frankly selfish. Perhaps, that’s why each year I never found a single present under a nonexistent Christmas tree in my house.

If I were to ask for one thing and one thing only, it would have to be a lump of coal that is often commercialized as unworthy and connotes a negative reaction from kids. But, hey! Considering the gas prices these days and me possibly getting my driver’s license in a year or two, I’d be more than willing to take one for the team of all these “innocent” and “well-behaved” children.

And if all things fail with your slave army of elves or you’ve overdosed yourself with milk and cookies, technology has developed miraculously for seven year-olds to pretend that they’re seventeen year-olds on Facebook, so just drop a couple of million dollars into my college bank account because it can’t be too hard for a thousand-year-old man.

Girl who is realistically preparing for her future, but you can call me Jessica Dang.

Dear Santa,

Christmas just doesn’t feel the same anymore. Maybe it’s because I’m getting older. Or maybe it’s because the spirit of Christmas has disappeared — which was bound to happen in this technological age. It’s pretty sad. It seems like the whole essence of love and appreciation that comes with Thanksgiving is gone by the strike of six with the beginning of Black Friday. Christmas, in short, has become primarily materialistic. I say primarily because I will admit that some of the joy from Christmas has always come from seeing what Santa put under the tree but at least before there was still the whole “warm” feeling that came with being around your family and the happiness from the gifts was more from the surprise. Now? Children expect to receive iPhones, iPads, and other expensive, fancy items. And the worst part? They no longer believe in you, Santa. They know their parents are the ones buying these items. And when they don’t receive what they wanted? They cry and whine and scream, yelling about how they hate their parents. Now, spoiled children like the aforementioned have always existed but there seems to be more and more of them every year. It just makes me sad.

Jessica Lee

Dearest Santa,

It’s that time of the year again and being the indecisive person that I am, I always struggle with what I want every year. As much I would love to start off this letter by singing Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas Is You” to a special boy, I unfortunately don’t have the high-note vocals for it. I have decided that (maybe) I don’t want just one thing:

Even though it may be geographically impossible, could you pull off a Christmas miracle and let it snow in Stockton. Speaking as a former resident of the Winter Wonderlands of the East Coast I would like it very much if you can shimmy some of those snowflakes on our rooftops even if it has to be ice shavings from a snow cone machine. I mean some of those Northern states get like five feet of snow. C’mon Santa share some love.

I don’t want the D on my report card. I would even go as far as saying I’d be happy if I even got a C, as long as that dreadful letter that stands for “Death [of Beloved Patricia Yadao]” goes poof. I’m not a slacker I just bit off more than I could chew. Hopefully, you have the Calculus gods in your contacts. Much appreciated.

I want my driver’s license already. I know I’ve been putting it off a lot lately and it has been pushed until later by quite a lot of bad luck. Let’s face it, I am an oldie who can’t drive…yet. Compared to all these 16-year-old babies getting their licenses already, my time is ticking. I promise I’ll drive better than I do in Mario Kart.

Going back to my statement earlier about my uncertainty on things I would also want to know what I want to do for the rest of my life. College is just around the corner and I’m absolutely clueless. Being the overachiever perfectionist I grew up to be, I am pressured to succumb to the sacred pillars of job expectations. I’m not even sure what I’m good at, how am I supposed to find what I love to do when I second guess everything? I just wish to find my calling sooner rather than later. If you could only drop a hint in my stocking, that would be nice.

Patricia Yadao

Dear Santa,

It’s been a great year. I’ve made some new friends and had some of the best memories in my life. The most embarrassing moments have also happened to me this year.

I’m tired of embarrassing myself. I’ve asked for a laptop or an iPhone, but I guess not. I’ve been receiving moments in my life that would embarrass me forever. For example, I embarrassed myself at a speech and debate tournament here at Bear Creek. I was in my third round doing duo interpretation and, while performing, I ripped my pants. My pants ripped from the top of my knee to the top of my thigh. Of course people were going to hysterically laugh, but the worst part was that they saw what color underwear I was wearing. I guess that was your late Christmas present for me to share for all the competitors I was against that day.

As a few months passed by, I realized that it was a funny story. I also realized that embarrassing moments are great stories to share. Thank you for the present! But please stop giving me these moments that will make a fool out of me. I hope you enjoyed watching yourself embarrass myself in front of those people.

Casey Faamausili

Dear Santa,

I heard you give coal to all the “naughty” children. Good, I just ran out and need some for my fireplace. It’s awfully chilly this year. All jokes aside, there is one thing I don’t understand: what makes you think that you can define a naughty child? What are the qualifications for being a nice child? Should a child be declared naughty for telling a harmless lie here and there? This topic is very abstract. Do you have an expert authority to support your claims? Any coherent evidence? No?

I’m afraid you can’t impose these standards on children without an argumentative essay. A 10-page essay. MLA format. Arial 12, typed. And don’t forget a Works Cited, or your essay means nothing. Also, it’s due tomorrow with an 8-10 minute PowerPoint presentation. If you have time to give all the children in the world presents in one night, then surely you could do this for me. AP English has taught me well, Santa. It better be one of the best thesis statements of your life.

The 16-year-old girl who never got a present,
Jasmine Irada

Dear Santa,

I know some little poops out there are going to send you a letter like this, except they will ask you for a “bae.” My job here is to make things somewhat easier for you and ask for the condition of our school restrooms to be improved. I came to the conclusion that this was what I wanted for Christmas when I walked in, literally covering my nose, trying to block out a mysterious, sour smell.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that everyone smells horrible. I understand it’s a bathroom — a place to eliminate and excrete all of the foul wastes stored in your body. I also understand and don’t expect our waste products to smell like cinnamon apples or potpourri. All I’m saying is that the insertion of an air freshener would be lovely. Please, I really don’t want to have to wear a gas mask every time I walk into the bathroom.

Another problem is the fact that some girls clearly have no idea where the toilet bowl is. I don’t understand what’s so hard; they’re just sitting there. I literally find puddles around the toilet. Now either that’s urine, or someone was having too much fun with the toilet water. Either way, they’re both unsanitary and someone could possibly slip and fall. I won’t dare to go into detail about how I found feces on the floor; however, I will congratulate whoever managed to completely miss the toilet bowl. Go you.

You must think that I’m over-exaggerating. Trust me, walk in there once and you’ll see what I mean. Some other girls also fail to properly throw away their sanitary pads/tampons. Again, I don’t wanna go into too much detail on that aspect but I’ll say that I’ve seen about enough blood that could probably be used in a satanic ritual. I’m not saying that the girl’s bathrooms are always like this; they have their clean moments, but every time I decide to make a trip to the bathroom, I’m welcomed with all these wonderful surprises.

Although, this became more of a rant than a cute “Dear Santa” letter, I hope you do put my wish into consideration and AT LEAST install an air freshener. That’s all this needy girl asks for. Thanks!

You’re the real MVP, Santa,
Julianna Reth

Dear Santa,

There isn’t much that I want this year. I mean, I would like money, clothes, and all A’s on my report card but I don’t really need those. At least, I don’t need the first two, but the last one would be really great to have. However, the one thing I really want to be able to do is to share our old Christmas traditions. To me, Christmas is all about spending time with family and enjoying the season, so our traditions embody those ideals. We would decorate the tree, pick out new ornaments, and watching Christmas movies while wrapping presents. But for the past few years, these traditions are starting to slowly fade. I don’t know if it’s because I’m getting older or if everyone else is just too busy.

They don’t seem like much, but they mean the world to me. These small things are what bring my family together for the holidays — well, besides the Christmas meal. So, for Christmas, all I want is to be able to do these rituals with my family again. All A’s couldn’t hurt either.

Linh Phan

Dear Santa,

This letter is not to convince you that I was a perfect angel all year and beg you to give me all the presents I want. This letter is for you. I am writing to inform you of an important piece of information that one of my close elf friends has revealed to me.

I know this may be hard to hear so you might want to sit down as you read this. I found it unbelievable as well, but the evidence is sufficient and a warning is needed.

Mrs. Claus is cheating on you.

My elf friend said that after speaking with Rudolph, who learned it while flying around one day. He saw Mrs. Claus behind the North Pole with Jack Frost doing more than just making cookies. If I were you, I would definitely put her on the naughty list. I hate to be the one to break it to you, but it had to be done. I’m only looking out for you, Nick.

So this year, I think what is truly needed is for you to finish the year off and take a breather. I wish you the best of luck and hope you can figure things out with Mrs. Claus or find someone who can keep making you that jolly old man up North!

Merry Christmas Santa, and I hope you have a more pleasant New Year!

Best wishes,
Jessica Rodrigues

Dear Santa,

It would be nice for you to show some benevolence to the human race and demolish pimples. Forever. Please do regard the misery they give us, normal human beings. There is no reason for the bane existence of pimples! All they do is camp out on your face and laugh about how red they are.

They never go away either. What good do they do the body? They joy of a face full of pimples? Please do elaborate on the joys of them, because I se zelp. Pimples are just annoying little things. They grow not even caring if you have a special event the next day. If anything, they purposefully give you misery.

What’s worse, pimples come during puberty. Not only do you have to worry about growing and awkwardness, you must worry about these beautiful red dots called pimples! You mustn’t cover them or anything because it only makes an even bigger pimple, but you mustn’t pop them either because they’ll create a big red sore.

The cost of treatment, absurd! Not one person wants to pay the ridiculous amounts of cash needed for these treatment plans! Granted they work, but is it really worth most of your cash? Everyone gets pimples, so why must a person pay outrageous amounts of cash for these simple treatment plans?

Plus the advertisement? Absolutely horrid. I don’t want to see some random, peachy face without pimples. I want to see some real transformations, to prove these so-called treatment plans really work.

Please be a dear and get rid of the pimples,
Shelby Bartlett