Christmas Revelations!

I hate Christmas because there is too much love involved.

Christmas is next week, so last night at work I pretended to stab myself through the neck with one of the stabber things you put your drink tickets on after the bartender finishes making your drink. (Baby loves an audience).

Because I am a Virgo, and therefore a perfectionist, Christmas / THE HOLIDAYS makes me really anxious. Despite the meandering blog posts in which I describe myself as bumbling and aloof, I truly want things to be done correctly. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. I’d be watching Netflix and eating pepperoni and shredded cheese. Anyway, we’re doing a Secret Santa thing at work, and I don’t want to mess it up. (I just Googled “Christmas ideas for your Australian friend,” and nothing good came up).

Last week I was watching “SNL: The 1990’s” on Netflix, and Cheri O’Teri and Will Ferrell were doing something obnoxious, and I caught a heavy wave of nostalgia.

“You know how I told you I have no memories of my parents interacting with each other before college?” I asked Cole. (Of course he remembers, my neuroses are a big part of our relationship, and I suppose being a child of divorce contributes to my neuroses).

“I think I just remembered watching SNL with my parents.”

We had a tiny living room, in a house on Mitchell Avenue. We had a huge blue vinyl couch and an armchair. The TV was just on the other side of my bedroom, and on Saturday nights when I didn’t want to go to sleep, I would shuffle into the living room and wait to be invited in, or sent back to bed. Whether or not both parents were there, I don’t know. But in this hazy reflection, I say they are.

That’s my ideal holiday situation. Stillness. Being subtly drawn towards the lights and the music. I want Christmas to be the TV in the next room- muffled and comforting.

Currently, I view Christmas as an anxiety-riddled scheduling problem. And I don’t have any money, and I don’t want to make the effort, or create the time. Looking at it like that makes me seem pretty selfish. I’m like Nicholas Cage in that Christmas Dad movie he made!! OMG Christmas is SOCIETY’S fault!

The truth is, going home for the holidays is hard is because everyone wants to spend time with me. (And I feel the same way of course). If the reason I’m stressed out is because my family loves me very much, then maybe I should slow down and review my stance on Christmas.

Besides. Now that I’m all grown up, why would I want to sit in a room with four sleepy people and put wrapping paper in a garbage bag the second the gift is opened- when I could scuttle all over the Cedar Valley getting crazy with all the beautiful people that I otherwise wouldn’t have in my life?

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