Christmas is December 25th. Christmas is always
December 25th, even in a leap year. So, why the fuck is Christmas
attacking me? Between the Christmas anthems (which I actually like for about 3
days) and the oodles of red and green paraphernalia stacked on the shelves of
every store Christmas is out in full force – on November 11th. WHY?!
While I love getting presents, in the past few years I’ve come to hate
Christmas. Big fucking surprise. Here’s why:
1.
Salvation Santa:
In about two weeks there will be a Salvation Army Santa outside of every
mall and Wal Mart. This middle aged white man, who is NOT Santa, will ask you
for money to put in his little collector thingy. He will ask you for cash when
you go in the store and when you leave. It’s like paying a fucking toll for
shopping. He will also ring a bell in your face in the most annoying manner. I
see you. You don’t need a sound effect, I’m just ignoring you. If you decide
not to give him money for one of a gazillion valid reasons, he will inevitably
shame you with a cold stare or a “Happy Holidays.” Well guess what, it would be
happy if you’d stop begging on the streets. And what does this tell kids? (Yes,
Delilah’s worried about the children.)That Santa is a beggar and the only way
he can afford to give them and all of their friends presents is if we give him
money? What happened to the slave elves working away in the North Pole? Their
little sausage fingers gluing toy trains together. I swear, you let one fucking
elf be a dentist and look what happens, the whole system falls apart. Personally,
I’d rather see a dirty, drunk Santa. You know what I’m talking about. The
skinny crackhead who dresses up as Santa to take pictures with the kids and get
some extra cash. You always see him wandering the streets the next day with his
filthy Santa suit and 40 in his hand. That’s what Christmas is made of…shattered
dreams and a dirty Santa.
2.
Holiday Spirit: I hate holiday spirit. Mainly
because Holiday Spirit implies happiness. I think not. Who the fuck is happy?
Do you see happy people running around Toys R Us on the 23rd while
trying to find a Tickle Me Elmo? NO. People are not happy about the holidays. Christmas
means stress and money and family and a whole basket of awfulness. Yet somehow here
we are: grimacing through yet another washed up pop star’s version of “All I
Want for Christmas,” smiling politely and thanking Can’t Bake Carol for the
fruitcake, re-gifting last year’s stone waterfall, and wishing we could shoot the caroling, money
seeking kids between the eyes and run away to Fiji. Maybe that last one is just
me….
3.
Decorations: It’s just extra work. Let’s be
honest. First there’s the whole tree thing. If you get a real one you need to
go chop it down or pay someone to do so for you. Labor intensive and costly. A
fake tree means putting it together and praying to the birthday boy that you
have all of the pieces. No one enjoys this. If they tell you they do, they’re
lying. After that there are decorations to consider. For those of you lucky
enough to have never put lights on a Christmas tree, I am SO jealous of your
life. Our tree is always crooked and those damn lights usually don’t work from
year to year. But don’t worry; when you plug them into the wall, it seems as if
they work. When you put them on the tree and plug them in only half of them
work. It’s the law of Christmas. I like to keep the lights on the tree as a
reminder that Christmas will be a failure – just like the lights. I think it
keeps me grounded.
4.
Family: I love my family. They’re sweet and
caring, completely adorable and the best part is, they love Christmas even more
than I do! In reality I want to throw a banana at them and run up to my
girlcave with all of my new, shiny things. OoOoO presents! Delilah like.
However, I cannot escape to my grilcave of greatness to admire my Christmas
loot, I must stay downstairs will all of the spider monkeys and attempt to be
social. It proves difficult for Delilah, hater of all humans, especially those
with whom I share DNA. However, I have learned a trick: play sick. Hint: This
also works in scenes of a sexual nature, but I usually opt for playing dead,
much more dramatic. The downside to playing sick is that people might
occasionally come to check on you. Since this is always a possibility it is
important that you keep your door locked and be EXCELLENT at fake sick face. If
you cannot play sick and must interact with your family, the next best thing to
do is drink. This will enable you to say inappropriate things, be loud and
obnoxious, AND pass out. It’s the best
thing to do. Plus, if you’re really bad, they won’t come back next year. Do
your best.
Ugh. I really fucking hate Christmas. It’s going to be a
long 43 days.
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