Good Grief
Well. It’s that time of year again. The snow is falling and store fronts are filled with lights and ribbons bombarding the world with good cheer and 30% off holiday sales.It’s that time of year again when I start to listen to the Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack on my way to work, letting the feeling of good will towards my fellow man creep up on me like the cold Boston air.
It’s that time of year again when people throw holiday parties, and I spent Friday night at one in the District with Kinsey. It was a full house, packed with people I didn’t know, and as we were pushed up against the wall by the celebrating mass, my vodka soda spilling on my tulle skirt, I thought that maybe the holidays really are crap.
I haven’t even started my Christmas shopping yet.
While I’m a wait-to-the-last-minute kind of gal, preferring exciting holiday spontaneity to the monotony of planning, I’m finding that I’m falling short on Christmas spirit this year. The lines and crowds of people are now making me feel claustrophobic, angrophobic, hypengyophobic and even mildly pantophobic.
Maybe it’s because I don’t see the meaning in buying presents for people in order to show them you care. I don’t understand the concept that, just because it’s Christmas, you should tell the people you care about how you really feel. Shouldn’t we be having the attitude of honesty all year round? Why does it take snow storms, egg nog and cheesy movies to knock us out of our stupors and realize that we should stop being idiots and be nice to the people around us?
Or maybe it’s what Sweet Girl said to me last night when I was lamenting over the fact that it is twenty days until Christmas and I’m feeling less than excited about the season – we are getting older. The real world makes it difficult to see past the tough sheen of reality to visions of harmony and sugar plums, whatever those are. I’m afraid that Christmas will come and go, much as it did last year, without any lasting affect on me at all.
Maybe it’s like what Charlie Brown says, and I just don’t understand Christmas. I like getting presents, and sending Christmas cards and decorating trees and all that, but I’m still not happy. I always end up feeling depressed.
Last night, while locked out of my apartment for over an hour, cold and tired, sitting in the hallway and staring at the closed door in front of me while waiting for a roommate to return home with keys, at least five people from my building passed by, looked at me and simply said, “that sucks.”
Yes, it’s definitely that time of year again.
posted by Victoria Comella @ 9:08 AM
1 Comments:
Being locked out of an apartment is the worst. I've had to sleep on the ground and it was awful because maintenance people are the worst at picking up lock out calls.
And yes this Christmas does not seem as exciting as last year or well the year before. Just coming and going without much fanfare. Maybe it's because there is no christmas party at 420 in my life to make it mark the beginning of the season.
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