Bah Humbug

Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if I actually said some of the things I think. I mean, truly, I often do. But sometimes for the sake of good old southern tact I hold back. It's the right thing to do. So here's what I really think about the holidays this year. If you're full of Christmas cheer you should probably stop reading now.

For starters, this ornament swap thing I have to go to every year? It's my idea of HELL. I respect that my step-mother is making a tradition (and I go because it's important to her). I go because I know it matters to her, but as a matter of personal things I would choose to go to this *type* of activity is not one I'd ever choose. So, on principle I have to gripe about this.

I don't do social gatherings really unless dogs and sheep (or seriously good food) is involved. None of the above is really involved in this thing. It's a bunch of people (mostly family) at my Dad's house and these types of gatherings I find very stressful.

Everyone brings an ornament. Numbers are drawn and then the sneaky Santa game is played with Christmas tree ornaments (I call this part multiple layers of hell). First off, it pisses me off when someone steals what I have, unless I hate it. Then it's OK. Hey, it's my hell, I can make my own rules. I don't like to steal from the others because it's not nice. See? Bound by my own conventions, but it's still hell. I'm expected to make nicey-nice when what I really want to do is single-handedly wipe out the fruitcake plate, which of course I eventually do because apparently I'm the only one there who likes fruitcake. While this should make me happy the guilt that follows plummets me into another kind of guilt-ridden hell.

I seriously wait until the first person leaves and I'm hot on their heels. Hell. Normal people just cannot possibly love these types of things.

So at the personal hell party I was discussing the logistics of getting my Christmas tree into my living room this year with another resident of this personal hell. As I am without big strong man I now have to depend on someone coming over to help me not only lug the 9' tree in there but also help me put it up and somehow get the topper on. Julie has offered to come help because she's way too good to me. However, I'm thinking the only way Julie and I are getting that topper on is if she stands on my shoulders. I draw the line at shoulder stands. I gave up shoulder stands when I graduated high school. That is unless you're talking about the sexy shirtless guy who plays Jacob in the "New Moon" movie. I might would relent for him.

At any rate, I lamented to her (another resident of hell) that I couldn't see going through all that trouble just to put up a tree that won't have a single present under it. Her comment? That I should wrap empty boxes so it would LOOK like there's presents.

Uh... hello? Who does that? I'm going to be the bigger woman and say that I want real presents under the tree dammit. Yeah, that's right. I'm not wrapping stupid empty boxes to go under the tree. What, is that like some sort of perpetual exercise in disappointment EVERY DAY? I can't imagine walking in there every day to be like, "Oh. They're empty." I mean, seriously, she even suggested I could write an "E" on the bottom of the empties so I'd know which was which. I almost choked on the stupid little cracker covered in some sort of unrecognizable but reasonably tasty dip.

While I'm at it, if I hear another Christmas song on the radio I'm going to claw my own ears off. And the movies? Everyone is all like "Ooooh! I LOVE all of those touching Christmas movies!" Gag me. I have crops to harvest on FarmVille. I don't have TIME for Christmas movies, and even if I did why would I want to sit around and snivel at all the Hallmark moments when I could be attending fun things like ornament swaps and white elephant parties?

Harbinger of Christmas Sneer = Me.