My Inner Grinch is Speaking Out

Holidays sometimes suck.  

It's not easy living up to the "most wonderful time of the year" reputation.  Between the crowded shops, the dwindling bank account and the lack of sunshine in miserable Ontarian winter, disappointment seems inevitable.  But here's hoping if we get our ranting out now-- if we let our inner Grinches grouch and grimace-- maybe they'll let up.

All the things I hate about Christmas from suckiest to shittiest (with the barftacular in between):

Money

Could there be a time of year that's tougher on the bank account?  I hate having to be stingy with friends and loved ones, but unless I start stripping to supplement my income (unlikely...I need to lose a few) there just isn't enough money to go around.  And DIYs aren't nearly as cheap as they claim to be.  By the time you gather all the supplies, you've spent as much as a regular old gift-- and half the time, when you DIY, people don't even appreciate it.
What's worse, I hate thinking that I may be the object of someone else's money stress.  To think that my strapped-for-cash Secret Santa is fretting away about what to buy me or how much to spend just makes me feel guilty-- and when I tell others not to buy for me and they don't listen-- then I feel unheard.

From dreamstime.com

Crowds

Ugh.  Christmas shopping.  The worst.  People are shitty.  Lineups are shitty.  Try to get a sale item, or make a coupon work, or tell a cashier she's overcharged, or to make a return are all incredibly shitty.  People seem to be at their most un-Christmasy whilst Christmas shopping.  They are stressed, rude, and pushy.  For awhile, I try to fight it.  I smile brightly, chat everyone up, and try to be generous ("No, you go ahead!")  But after awhile, the doldrums bring you down.  It's like walking through molasses with concrete blocks on your feet.  

People Who Don't Write Lists And Have December Birthdays

Father, you are the worst person on the face of the planet to shop for.  Are you even human?  Who doesn't write a Christmas list?!  I'd have an easier time shopping for Lady Gaga than for you (and she likes some wweeeeiirddd shit).  You don't make a list, you're incredibly picky, you continually buy the stuff you want or need for yourself, you already HAVE everything... and yet somehow I have to come up with two ideas in one month?!  I call shenanigans.  We're moving your birthday to June.

Sad Christmas Songs

WTF is wrong with musicians?!  Sad Christmas songs are The.Worst.  Do you know how many times I've teared up in the mall because "Where are you, Christmas" while its sappy lyrics has brought me to tears as I contemplate my lost childhood?  Countless.
Don't even get me started on "I'll Be Home for Christmas".  It made my mom burst into tears in the middle of IKEA last week.  Talk about shitty.  Nobody wants to be reminded of their dead loved ones at Christmas time.  We can do that on our own, thankyouverymuch.
If you like sad Christmas songs, you probably also like Nicholas Sparks.  You confuse me the way people who like horror movies and rollercoasters confuse me.  I do not like to pay to be terrified, nor do I someone to intentionally try to make me cry.  I'll do that on my own.
I'm going to start a petition that all sad Christmas song should be wiped from the archives: any DJ who plays them should be shot, and the singers who recorded them drawn and quartered.  Give me The Chipmunks' "Christmas Don't Be Late" any day over that tear-jerker about the shoes.

Christmas LEFT, Faith Hill.  It left because of you!

Winter

Worst and ugliest season ever.  No daylight.  No greenery.  Dangerous conditions for walking, jogging and driving means less exercise, less outdoors time and fucked up travel plans.  PEOPLE DIE FROM EXPOSURE.  Sure, you can skate or snowshoe every now and then-- but you can only handle a few hours MAX of skiing or snowman rolling before you have to go in and warm up.  The cold weather ruined yesterday's parade-- even my tough old dad couldn't stand the temperature and we had to bail before Santa's arrival.  Winter just doesn't compare to the endless days of summer when you're outside and barefoot from sunrise til midnight.
And what about winter gear? Unflattering, uncomfortable, expensive.  Doesn't do what it says.  Does not keep me warm.  And balaclavas make you look like a robber.  Also, who enjoys wearing a massive coat to keep warm outdoors, but then sweating buckets as soon as you step indoors?
I blame my ancestors for bringing us to this fucked up climate in the first place.

From cutestpaw.com

Absence

You know who's missing.  You'll always know.  It'll never be the same without them.  You spend all year patching the hole, and Christmas, with its twinkle lights and tinsel, blows it right open again.  It's enough to make you want to go missing too.

Gifts You Don't Want

Christmas is not about the gifts; we all know that.  So that's not to say an unwanted gift would ruin your Christmas.  It wouldn't.  You would still graciously hug the person, thank them, and enjoy your family/friend time.  But then what to do with it after?  Do you donate it?  Will it end up in a landfill?  Or do you let it clutter up your home?  How can you get that tacky sweater/knickknack/mug out of your home without offending the gift giver and being ungrateful?  And admit it: a tiny part of you is sad that the giver doesn't know you that well at all.

From bespoketraveler.files.wordepress.com

Don't even get me started on the baked goods.  How thoughtful.  How sweet (pun!)  Excellent, I was planning on gaining roughly 36 pounds right before New Years.  Thanks for your help with that.

Gifts You Can't Get

I don't really want new clothes or makeup.  Not in the same way that I want a job.  A job that I actually like, that uses my skills, and pays what I'm worth would be nice, but any old job would do.  Too bad Santa can't even score me an interview.
You know what else would be nice, Big Man, while we're compiling the list of Things You Won't Get Me This Year: an apartment.  It seems like a lot to ask, but after having lived on my own for six years, my parents' basement is getting kind of old.  I lived in shitty, cold, run-down buildings and had the best time of my life because it was mine.  My roommate and I made forts in the living room and shamelessly wasted hours watching TV before spending all-nighters at the library.  Now, I'm judged when I sleep in 'til 10.  My independence back would be nice.  Yes, I had to do groceries for myself and mop my own floor, but it was nice to be able to go wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted with whomever I wanted. Oh, and to not have 60 Minutes blasting throughout the whole house would be wonderful.  The looped soundtrack of never-ending lectures I could also do without.
Finally, bring my friends home.  We lived for years within two blocks of each other: just down the hall, just down the street and saw each other ALL THE TIME.  And then--POOF!  Grad caps, goodbyes, and now they're spread out from Toronto to Victoria and everywhere in between.  And even the close ones are almost unreachable: between hectic work schedules and literally not having enough money for the bus ride to go see them (let alone a beer, or a coffee, or contributing a couple bags of chips) my world has shrunk considerably.  Some come on, Santa.  Pony up.  I only want what was once mine.

Look at how wicked our apartment was!