For some people, I've heard, Christmas is a happy time. Even for grownups. A time of family, good food and togetherness. For me it's a seasonal death march that starts at Thanksgiving, a holiday I actually like a lot, and doesn't end until New Year's Day - when most of us wake with bleary-eyed hangovers to face our "fresh start."
This season was worse than usual. I tried and failed to launch my new online store in time for the season. I worked myself to death and tortured family, friends and random strangers with tales of my woe. The agency that never listened. The products that wouldn't upload correctly. The Google Checkout that simply didn't work (it does now). It was enough to drive a jolly optimist mad. And I think we all know I'm not exactly jolly.
My foray into online retail is not the sole source of my grouchiness, however, it is simply the icing on an expensive and frankly cardboard-tasting cake. I hate the automatic and obligatory gift giving. It's an annual exercise in miscalculation and misjudgment that more often than not leads to disappointment. The gifts you get are rarely the things you want and the stuff you give to others is the same. The list of recipients is too long and the collective wallet is too small. So we compromise. Or rather, we buy stuff we hope will be good enough but usually isn't. Bad chocolate. Clothing that doesn't fit or match our tastes. Kitchen gadgets we'll never use. Gift certificates to stores we've never heard of. Fushigi. And let's not even talk about re-gifting as gifts, because the road to hell is paved with re-gifting.
We are supposed to buy presents for everyone, or at least everyone who bought one for you. Gifts are important because they show that we care. Or that we know we are supposed to care.
Gifts are the whacked out physical manifestation of our love (or lack thereof) for each other, mostly because we suck at actually expressing our feelings and place very little value on silly, non-store-bought words. Of course you don't know who is going to buy you a present until they actually give it to you. At that point you face a number of risky scenarios: giving the gift you bought that is more expensive than what they gave you (which translates to "I love you more than you love me and now we all know it"); giving the gift that is not expensive enough (reversing the above love-o-meter), or my personal favorite, waving the empty hand.
Yes, yes. I know. We're all supposed to put a great deal of thought into our gifts beforehand so we can buy our friends and family something they are sure to love forever. If we only had to give gifts to the children in our lives we might have a chance of success but we are beset with obligations to other grownups. Gift giving isn't easy, you know. I've known my family all of my life, I've known my best friend and my husband for over 26 years apiece and I still can't be sure, from one present to the next, that I've got it right.
My best friends are understanding. They don't give me anything and I don't give them anything. I don't need anything from them except that which doesn't come in a box: their friendship and support even during this time of my terrible crankiness. Manifested in their loving, non-store-bought silly words.
My family is pretty understanding too. My sister would be especially understanding except that we also keep messing up her kids' birthdays, not sending the presents or cards in time (or maybe not at all) and she's getting a little tired of having to explain why one side of the family (his side) is so great at birthdays, while the other side couldn't hit the side of a birthday barn with an automated, nuclear water balloon. But that's family and there's a certain amount of shrugging acceptance you have to do, just because it's family.
But the strangers! Is it just me or have you noticed a kind of seasonal madness that seems to have settled onto the populace this year? People have forgotten how to drive even more than usual. Rain or no rain, snow or no snow, they drive too fast or too slow, changing lanes without bothering to turn their heads and flipping the bird if you object. They'll fight to the death to keep you from merging into their lane, even though they will never in a million years drive faster than you; even though your lane is quickly disappearing before your eyes and there is only gravel ahead. Ho Ho Ho, Santa has a special list for you. And if he doesn't, I do.
This crazy aggressivity extends all the way to the parking lots and into the stores. I have literally had people push me out of the way so that they could see whatever it was I was looking at. As angry as I get at their rudeness I am even more baffled by it. Is it really so important to grab that necklace from my fingertips? Did I happen to touch the one thing your Aunt Rose is going to love more than anything else? Or did someone steal your parking spot and now you're looking for revenge, even if it is against the wrong person?
I unknowingly cut in front of a woman who was buying gift cards at Macys. When I realized she had been waiting longer than me, I asked the clerk to hold my transaction and ring her up first. Through clenched teeth she spit out the most disingenuous "thank you" I've ever heard. And then for the next 10 minutes she tortured the (dumb as a brick) clerk with "NO I wanted $25 on THIS ONE and $40 on THAT ONE and $30 on THAT ONE!"
File that under "no good deed goes unpunished."
Maybe Christmas just isn't meant for anyone over the age of 18. We're all getting so crabby and stressed out, maybe by the time we get to college we should just have a nice dinner, go to church (or not) and call it over. There is so little spirit left in this holiday. Smiles and thank yous have become as rare as condors. Politeness and civility are flown out the window, leaving an abundance of snappishness in their place. And out-and-out rudeness. All in the quest for the perfect gift - or at least the thing that can be purchased so someone can cross your name off their list.
The little bit of spirit, or at least joviality, is found for me, in other people's holiday lights. I say "other people's" because I am not quite festive enough to hang lights outside my own house. Still, I love to drive around the neighborhood with my kids and praise the pretty decorations and laugh at the garish ones. I love the twinkle lights wrapped around the trees and the fake lighted wildlife on the lawn. I love the Santas on the rooftops, the illuminated elves in the driveways and the wreaths on the doors. I love the smell of the trees we are no longer supposed to buy. I especially love the one in my living room. I can smell Christmas in my house every day, even if I can't actually connect with the spirit.
Maybe next year.