Thursday, November 19, 2009
Checkin' The List
So I was in Marshall's today- yeah, I know, I'm really overdoing this shopping thing- to buy panty hose which I hardly ever wear but we're going to a wedding in Alabama and it's going to be cold and I don't think I could get away with thermal underwear under my dress. Okay? Do you think I LIKE it?
Sound a little cranky, don't I?
1. The stores already have all that Christmas shit out and people are BUYING IT! Gift baskets that you KNOW are going to be re-gifted. Who wants jonquil body wash? Who wants cookies probably baked in a factory in China and labeled, "Yankee Farms Best Ole Fashioned Homemade Gingerbread cookies"? Who wants sparkly cheap stupid-looking angels? Oh yeah. That old lady behind me in line when I was buying the panty hose. She kept saying to her companion, "But I just love her little face!" Since the face was one of those rather blank ones with no nose, I was confused. The other lady kept saying, "Well I like it too!"
I think she might get it for Christmas and boy, won't she be happy?
2. The candy is also out. All that "special" Christmas candy you can't possibly get except for oh, all year 'round. But this candy- it's wrapped in Christmas foil and green and red and silver and gold! It's special.
Yeah. It's special because it's going to cause a huge seasonal jump in the national obesity and diabetes problems.
3. The bell ringers are already out. Give me a break. My middle NAME is guilt. Do I need to be reminded of what a non-charitable person I am every time I have to go buy bananas? I guess I do.
4. Boxed sweet potato casserole mixes. Do I need to say any more about THAT?
5. The catalogs are coming thick and fast. They are filled with people wearing shiny holiday attire, holding glasses of champagne, smiling and looking completely calm and happy. And thin. What planet do they live on? I have to admit I was intrigued to see that I can send a loved one a bacon sampler from the Wolferman's Catalog and why I got a Wolferman's catalog will remain a mystery to me. But if you want to order a bacon sampler for someone you care about and want to help with their passage into heart-attack land, go ahead and do it. No payments until March 2010! Which leads me to:
6. People buying SHIT to give to other people who don't need that shit and the people who are buying it can't afford it and yet this whole process is supposed to bring about Christmas Cheer and has something to do with the baby Jesus, lying in a manger.
7. Reindeer, Christmas Tree and Santa Claus sweaters and vests. If you are an elementary school teacher, you are allowed to wear these garments. If not- forget it! Okay? Really.
8. The damn smell of the dead animal under my house. Yeah. I know. That has nothing to do with Christmas. Just checking to see if you're paying attention.
9. Every Kiss begins with K(ay). SHUT UP!
And finally, the thing that really got me in this mood today:
10. Christmas carols on the Muzak. On November the 19th. In Marshall's where I was just shopping for stupid discount panty hose. I hate Christmas carols. I truly do. They used to be okay when you only heard or sang them about one week out of the year. But those days are long gone. LONG gone, baby.
Okay. The yearly gauntlet has been thrown down. You have not, I am sure, heard the last of my I-hate-Christmas-rantings. If you don't want to hear them, that's fine with me. Don't read them.
I will admit that there are a few things I like about Christmas. One of them is my scary santa. Stay tuned for him. He'll show up here somewhere.
And I think when Owen is big enough to appreciate Christmas I might like it a little bit more. We'll just have to see.
Meanwhile, please don't send me any bacon samplers, cookies or Reindeer sweaters. Don't tell me about the magic of Christmas. And for God's sake, don't bring up the baby Jesus. This madness we're about to descend into has nothing to do with baby Jesus and we all know it.
Beyond that, seasons greetings and hofuckingho.
And oh yes. I have lost my address book (I made the huge mistake of taking it with me to the hospital when Lily was in labor and I'm sure it's been incinerated) and there goes thirty years of addresses so if you don't get a Christmas card from me- that's why.
Love you anyway. Really. I do.