Bah humbug!

The holiday season is one that should inspire warm and loving thoughts of friends and family, perhaps also warm and loving deeds, and generally a feeling of all-around goodwill to all mankind. It's supposed to be a time of year when people are a little more patient, a little bit kinder, and maybe a little less likely to fly into a mind-numbing fit of road rage when navigating the holiday traffic. Then why praytell, does the turning of the calendar to December 1st make me want to jump out of my skin and lunge for the carotid of anyone who tries to perpetuate this load of utter crap? I'll tell you why. Because it's a load of utter crap.

Christmas has lost all meaning for me over the years. For one, I am anti-religion. Consequently I do not buy into the whole baby jesus in the hay stack out in the barn with the wise guys standing around handing out frankenstein and myrtle. My rational mind just won't accept it. So midnight mass is lost on me, although I hear it's just terrific.

Secondly, I really believe that after exchanging gifts with my family for 30+ years, we have everything. How could we not? And if we don't, are we really not at a point in our lives when we can buy the silly trinkets we want? I don't mean to sound like an ingrate. I know these gifts come from a good place and they want give me things because they are unable to hug me and/or say I love you so this is supposed to do the job, but really, stop the madness! For example, I have no use for a pancake warmer. Now admittedly that could be because I do not understand the concept of a pancake warmer. Is this a necessary way station between the griddle and my mouth? I don't get it. Make the pancakes. Eat the pancakes. How about the gourmet dipping oil set? This actually is a very pretty set. It has a bottle with a lovely flowery thing painted on it and 4 little dishes into which the bread is dunked. However, there is nary a piece of bread being served in my house, let alone a piece of bread that is dipped in olive oil. In my mind, it's more stuff to wash following a dinner party. One of my personal favorites that surely is bound to wind up in the Useless Gift Hall of Fame is the set of triangular plates painted to look like pepperoni pizza. So far that may be the champion of all worthless things on which to spend hard earned money, but it should be noted that just the other day (on Thanksgiving) my mother asked me in all seriousness and in hushed conspiratorial tones, if I might like an electric gravy boat. I want to pause for a second and let that sink in... Now that I am thinking of it, I also would like very much to describe for you what hubby has dubbed the "sleeping bag cape", but that would require me to go upstairs and retrieve it from the dark recesses of the closet in the guest room and maybe open the packaging. I am unwilling to do that at the moment, but it is quilted and puffy with fleece and a zipper, and the lady on the box appears to be wearing it somehow. Based on that information and what I have told you about all these other gems, I trust that you will be able to use your imagination.

The point is, there are truly needy people out there and each year we are forced into the exchange of "stuff" that is doomed for a box in the basement until I have collected enough stuff to have a yard sale. I find it disgusting. Not only do I find it completely gratuitous, but I also do not have time to go to the mall or run around the world to procure the stuff. I would prefer to get my hands on the Christmas list of a family who is struggling and buy the things they want, like winter coats, gloves, scarves, a turkey dinner, etc. Unfortunately, it has been suggested that I am some kind of nut who is one Cindy Lou Who away from being the Grinch. That's right, I have been accused of trying to ruin Christmas, what with my selfish ideas of giving to the less fortunate and all. No, you're right. It makes much more sense for me to give to someone who makes a six-figure salary and then put things like "colored peppercorns" on her list. I believe I have said this before, but STOP THE MADNESS!

So there you have it. That is why the holiday season stresses me out beyond the power of ativan and I believe it is a load of utter crap. For the entire month I will alternate between the feelings of anger over being put out that I have to think up "things" to give against my will, and despair while I ponder why my real family gave me up to be raised by these self-indulgent fools. But in the meantime, please call me if you want those pizza plates.