Holidays Schmolidays

So the holiday season is over for awhile.  From October on they put the smack down on us.  Halloween to Thanksgiving to heavyweight champ Christmas then on to New Year’s and Valentine’s Day.  Finally we have a bit of a break until Easter.

I guess the cat’s out the bag: I’m not a huge fan of holidays.  And I’m moving toward not celebrating them at all.  So far I have New Year’s Eve, Valentine’s Day, and Easter (clutch your pearls!) covered.   I’m a twin so the birthday thing is kind of difficult.  If that counts as a holiday.  But I’m the twin of a married woman who lives 400 miles away with her husband and 2 sons so I’m not real far off from getting past that one.   

Christmas is gonna be a bit of a feat since those 2 sons of hers, my nephews, are among 8 of their kind.  I love my nieces and nephews and don’t see them many times out of a year, so Christmas is a bit of a deal.  I mean this is assuming that it counts as celebration when you give and accept gifts.  When you prepare and consume large amounts of food.  (Which I also do during the Thanksgiving season).  I don’t know…I mean, I don’t dislike the getting together with my family, love eating, and getting loved and admired by my nieces and nephews who generally think I’m cool since I dye my hair strange colors, let them paint, and play as hard as they do when we’re outside together.   

Nonetheless, I don’t care for holidays.   

I like buying stuff for myself and not quite as often, for others but find that I will do that regardless of the holiday; the holiday just becomes an excuse.  Like I buy cake from the bakery because I like it better than boxed mix.  But when the craving hits near my birthday and someone at the bakery says, “Must be your birthday,” I grin sheepishly and say, “yeah.”  But I say that whenever I buy bakery cake even if it’s June. 

 

Christmas is a reasonable excuse to buy stuff too.  But if I really want a new pair of boots, I don’t need the excuse of Christmas to buy them for myself.  And I certainly don’t need that excuse to send my parents a little sumthin-sumthin to line their pockets.

I, like many I’ve heard, hate the marketing of Valentine’s Day.  It seems like loving someone; more importantly showing it, should happen on a random Monday in September as much as on February 14.  And it shouldn’t cost a box of chocolates and flowers, balloons and teddy bears to show it.  Am I a hater? I wonder to myself.But eventually Easter comes.  And as I head to my Sunday morning workout I pat myself on the back.  I am not discriminatory after all.  No holiday is sacred to me. They used to be.  I used to believe in them the way I believe pigs are pork.  But something happened along the way.  Someone musta told me Santa wasn’t real while I was asleep or high.  Because I sure don’t remember; all I know is I ended up here.


Holidays are like little sticky notes whose stickiness wears off after about a week.  I want all the promises holidays make us: family, friends, fellowship, being all around good (and if you believe in Him, God-fearing) folks to have a longer expiration date.  Like forever maybe. 

Holidays schmolidays…

But for the record, I still accept gifts and enjoy making and eating good food.  On Thursdays in November, December 25th, February 1st, random days in March, July, September, or whenever the urge hits.

 

 

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