Dear Christmas: Your Services Are No Longer Needed

I debated on saving this for after the holidays, but I just can't. I tried to force myself into loving the holidays. I baked. Dammit, I baked for dogs! I dutifully put up my tree, I signed up for volunteer work, I schlepped across the country to see the family for Thanksgiving. I have done the decorating, the crafting, and STILL I am continuing to make tokens for those that I appreciate.

No more.

Yesterday I got into a discussion with (awesome) people (on Rav) about the holidays, and what Christmas really is, what it should be, how people do and don't celebrate it, blah blah. Well. One gal had the MOST fantastic tradition with her family ever. EVER! They even called it Elevensies, which holds additional appeal to those of us who like Hobbits and their rock 'n roll lifestyle out in The Shire. Elevensies begins on the Solstice, and ends on New Years Day. How perfect. They get dressed up, they do a big feast, they enjoy being together with friends and family, and enjoy a changing of the seasons, the turn back toward longer days that we are making, all culminating with my Favorite All Time Holiday: New Years Eve. Could it get any better? There are little gifts, mostly tokens exchanged, but that's really not the focus.

Splendid, no?

I am totally embracing this idea. I love winter. I love hiding under covers, I love big warm squishy scarves, I like the time where everything goes to sleep because it makes spring that much better. I love feasts- we all know that! And I love that it all ends with the best holiday ever. Some people sleep through New Years, or go to bed right after. Me, I am wired till morning. I put on the goofy hats (this is the one night I don't stick out for looking dumb in hats so I take advantage), I love the confetti, I love the countdown, and I mostly love the feeling right after the New Year begins. It's a time when there are 365 entire days of completely unbridled possibility. It's the idea that at that moment you are looking out over a whole vast unit of time where you can make any change in your life you want. You can do it all better than you did before, and maybe- just maybe- this will be the year when everything comes together. Perhaps I have this romantic notion of the New Year because I am usually pretty hammered when it arrives. But that's a topic for another day. Anyway, I just like the idea of a long celebration of both winding down for winter and gearing up for a new year. It totally poops on the doorstep of everything I have come to hate about Christmas. I'll spare you all those things, because they aren't terribly original.

Anyway, I brought this idea up to my true equal in vivid imaginations, depraved senses of humor, and unabashed love for the truly strange. After talking about it at great length, we came up with a whole fantastic story, a few rules, even some carols, and everything but a good name for it. I like Elevensies, but I don't feel like it's fair to take someone's mindful and simple celebration of the seasons and of family and soil it with Ephram the Holiday Snail. (although he is pretty cool, even though he only comes to one house the whole year- he moves too slow to do more, cause he's a snail, duh.) I figure I am one of the only ones who appreciates that in my holiday, if you are mindful of your sodium intake all year long, Ephram might come to your house and fill your stockings with queso.

I realize that the above paragraph makes me an ideal candidate for a full hysterectomy, thereby preventing me from ever inflicting this on a child.

Anyway, the point is that I am firing Christmas due to it's high cost and repeated failure to meet expectations. I will give it a good recommendation to others, but it's really just not a good fit for any future Decembers I may have. And why the hell shouldn't I? I mean, choices are a great thing to have. We have easily 27 flavors of Chex Mix at my grocery store, but only two viable political parties here in the US, and a mere three holidays to celebrate in December. Not good enough. There's a fine line between tradition and obligation, and Christmas is an obligation to me now. Nope, no more. BF is on board with it too- stocking full of queso and all. He even sounded disappointed when he thought that his high blood pressure might automatically exclude him from EVER getting a visit from Ephram. And that is how I know he is meant for me.

I went back and proofread in an attempt to make this post make sense. I failed miserably. I am sure you are calling for The Men in White Coats to come and take me away, and I understand. Just please see to it that if I am put away, they release me by early December of 2009. I have a party to prepare for!