December 27th, 2008 - Fuck You Number 20

Merry Christmas, all.

I can finally utter those despicable words after a six-pack, and a bottle of wine.

Oh, and two days late, for those who didn't take note.

When I was a child, I used to look forward to Christmas. I remember the last three weeks venturing up to the holiday going so slow, it was if they were dragging behind them a trailer full of all of the snow that had been left upon the ground. I couldn't wake up in the morning without hoping and wishing that somehow or another, someone had jumped up-and-down on that gigantic fast-forward button that every other kid on planet Earth was unable to find.

I guess that's the beauty of being a child. The wondrous beauty of being completely oblivious as to everything that goes into planning a joyous Christmas occasion. After all, the only direction you have at that time is to tear open the gifts that have your name spelled out across the cute, Santa signed tag.

At what point in time did the holiday that was supposed to be the most beloved, become the most stressful, and feared?

You've gotta be kidding me? I thought I was coming home, to spend time with the people I hold dearest to my heart. Of course I would bring with me gifts for the "grandchildren," and hugs for Grandma and Grandpa? But, at what point in time did it become right for a 30 year-old's parent's to hound him/her about a Christmas list? I don't need anything.

Fuck commerce, and everything that has pushed Christmas into the simplistic holiday of gift-giving and buying. Has it really taken away our time that we get to spend with our families, and loved ones?

Cheers.