Thursday, November 29, 2012

Bah Humbug

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How did this happen?  When did I become a Christmas Scrooge?  There are times during the year when I make up something to celebrate, and order a cake to make it official. There is the The Guys Went Hunting The House is All Mine – Mine Mine Mine cake. There is the Company’s Coming and I Haven’t Seen them in Weeks! cake. Easter always involves baskets, ceramic bunnies, and spring flowers. Even though I live on top of Spooky Hill and nobody comes here, I always have glow sticks, Play Doh, and candy for Halloween. Yet sparkly red and green ribbon, Santa at the Mall, and “Jingle Jingle Jingle...I am old Kris Kringle, I’m the King of Jingle-ing” wafting through the grocery store just ticks me off. I don’t mean a little tick off. I mean I want to yank out my spiked thigh-high boots, my pleather jacket, rub on some fake tattoos and black lipstick and go stomp through the mall. What’s that about?
This is possibly a shock to my unicorn-loving friends, but I’m not even sending Christmas cards this year. That will be the first time since I used construction paper and crayons, and hand delivered them to family members sitting across the table from me. Let’s be perfectly honest here, I adore honestly, it saves so much time. The reason I’m not sending Christmas cards this year is I don’t want to. Not sure what I’m going to do with the four books of beautiful holiday stamps I already bought. Nothing is wrong. I still love you. Stop by and we’ll have cake.
Last week while standing in line to exchange a pair of jeans, I spotted a display of gift cards. So, it isn’t the pressure of coming up with gifts that put the bee in my bonnet, because I’m done shopping. Yay. Surprise.
Photo credit:  Stephanie Karfelt
Haha, just kidding. Mostly. Of course I will suck it up, hide the attitude, and if necessary produce some live reindeer on Christmas Eve, and play the part of a sheep during a reenactment of a live nativity if it is called for. But I’m all Joan Jett Punk Rocker about it inside, and don’t you forget that part. There would be a picture of my black-leather bad-self costume right about here, if the act of googling such images hadn’t frightened me terribly. Some things cannot be unseen, and I’d rather play Christmas Consumer Sheeple than go there. Just remember though, Hermie doesn’t like to make toys.
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How about you?  Are you all over the holiday season like twinkle lights?  Or are you ready to sign my petition to have it moved to every other year?  What is it about the holidays that crawls up the back of your shirt with sharp toenails?  Or what is it that thrills you to the tips of your Charlotte Church Christmas CD? 
Epic Slinky Dogs will be awarded to the most moving tales on either side. Be sure to follow my blog to be eligible.
Photo credit:  Stephanie Karfelt

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