Shannon’s Super Sexy Blog. Music. Travel. Randomness. And a Lot of Wine.

Smells Like Christmas Spirit

“He went to church, and walked about the streets, and watched the people hurrying to and fro, and patted children on the head, and questioned beggars, and looked down into the kitchens of houses, and up to the windows: and found that everything could yield him pleasure. He had never dreamed that any walk — that anything — could give him so much happiness. In the afternoon he turned his steps towards his nephew’s house.” – Charles Dickens, “A Christmas Carol.”

On this sort of eve of the week leading up to Christmas 2005, I sit here unaffected. Strange, really, as lit trees and egg nog have, in the past, made me excruciatingly happy. But this year is different. I’m not sure if it is the acceleration of time (Christmas just got here too fucking fast, I am still thinking in Summer-time) or the manipulation of the holiday by the media (holiday tree vs. Christmas tree, right wing Christian vs. Everyone, also SHOP SHOP SHOP motherfuckas) or age (Huh? What’s going on?) It could be age. It could be, that I am getting too old to enjoy things anymore. Wait, is that eggnog with brandy in it? I fucking LOVE that shit. OK, maybe it is not age.

I don’t like to be unaffected. The fact that I am unaffected is affecting me. I WANT the joy of the season to wash over me, but there is no joy. Oh. Maybe there is no reformed Scrooge kind of joy, period? Maybe I have been expecting joy when there is actually none except for the bought and manufactured kind? No, I don’t believe that either. Believe what? Here I fucking go, getting into fruitless arguments with myself again.

What is holiday spirit, anyway? What is TRUE holiday spirit? What is the point? Have I been buying in to the wrong thing all along?

Sometimes I have to breathe deep and remind myself, this is the 21st century. Most likely, you will have to deal with Walmart taking over the world and dudes in giant pickup trucks cutting you off on the 405 for the rest of your life. There is no Christmas, really, only life, and Walmart and assholes in giant trucks are a part of life now, regardless of the time frame. But when I breathe deep, it stinks. My Christmas wish is, that people could take an interest in the world around them and also, be a little nicer on the road. My Christmas wish smells like brandy laced eggnog. We are already hungover anyway, so any sweet, enebriating potion is welcome medicine, at least until January 2. And joy happens when you aren’t expecting it, and joy can’t be bought. Still, I wish I could look at my little tree and feel something there.

Maybe now that I have written this I will feel sorry for the tree and feel something. Or at least SMELL something. One can hope.

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