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December 15, 2005

I am the Grouchy Old Woman of Christmas

I realize I've been making light of the War! On! Christmas! wingnuts, but I do think in all seriousness they've been missing the point and then some.

Maybe it's because I read this essay in Newsweek yesterday and I saw my feelings about the holiday articulated in perfect prose. Read it--it's spot on and anyone yelping about store associates who say Happy Holidays and how Liberals are out to destroy Christmas should just take a few deep breaths, count to ten, and then ask themselves how consuming themselves into debt and stress is at all Christian or representative of the baby Jesus. Or the grown Jesus for that matter. Last time I checked, shopping was not on the list of Ten Commandments that some folks would like to post up at courthouses. Really.

All this shopping madness, coupled with the War! On! Christmas! hysteria really makes me dread this season. My sister and I agreed last year that we wouldn't exchange gifts for Christmas anymore, bless her soul. It's not as if she's got the time to shop for my pinko self; she and her husband have their hands full with the kids and the house and their jobs and life in general. (You know, I'm starting to wonder if all most parents really want for Christmas is a quiet afternoon and a nap. Sheesh, I'd like that.) I really don't want to be a source of additional stress. And I'm just not a fan of shopping malls, myself. I went Christmas shopping last Sunday, and while the day out was nice--my friend and I had a nice leisurely lunch, I heard all about her new, family-oriented, tatooed artist boyfriend, I was not particularly thrilled to be dodging wandering shoppers drunk on charging lots of plastic crap that would collect dust.

Actually, any gift-giving occaision gives me the hives, and the reason is actually quite simple--I've got more than enough crap. I'm trying to get rid of it. I'd love to go to a Yankee swap where I just give my old stuff away and get nothing in return. (That's actually called St. Vincent de Paul, and I've been making quite a few trips over there.) I don't need anything else. Truly. I don't. And I don't want to be the cause of anyone's holiday stress where they try to find the perfect gift for me. It's not like I live like a monk, I'm quite happy to buy myself a pair of earrings I like, or a necklace, or a book, or a sweater that catches my eye and that I'll wear. I just hate mandatory gift-giving. The very idea of it drives me crazy, and people don't take you seriously if you say that what you'd really like is a gift to Project Bread in your honor or you'd rather not have anything. Unless it's something they can wrap, it doesn't count.

When I was in college, my then-boyfriend got royally irritated with me when I told him what I wanted for my birthday. It was all quite simple--just cook me dinner. "No, seriously," he said, as if there was some little trinket that I really wanted but was being coy. As if. It is physically impossible for me to be coy, as any man I've been involved with (who's got half a clue) can tell you--I start twitching when I try it. I can't remember my college boyfriend got me--I just know that I didn't get the dinner cooked by him, which is what I wanted. I even told him why--it would be nice to just hang out, have a quiet night in, and eat something that he made me. If he wanted to make it special, he could light a candle. Boom. He's done, I'm happy, life is good.

So these days roll around, and I get tired. I have to think--quick! THINK! What do I want? What do I need? Think about it and tell folks and maybe I'll get it. And if I don't want or need anything, I'd better come up with something anyway. And I know that most people around me feel the same way--there are only so many sweaters anyone needs, and that's the big fallback item for some folks. Lately, I think people just don't know what they want or need because they don't actually want or need anything. I'm starting to think that we all want to get off this ridiculous merry-go-round, but it's not something anyone wants to mention because it can inspire resentment in some quarters. (Thankfully, my folks seem to get it and accept the fact that I'm The Grumpy Old Woman of Christmas.) Mentioning this to people outside of my family gets me a ration of grief, though. It's like I'm ruining Christmas by saying that please, don't buy me a gift (I never bought for people outside of my family and whomever I was going out with at the time, anyway). If there's one thing people hate worse than not getting a gift, it's getting their karma sucked away from comsymps like me.

Posted by at December 15, 2005 09:02 AM