scrooge

I had an entirely different blog post planned out for today, with a transition from the last one and article references and shoutouts all included.  Then I read my dear friend Stephen's latest post and it changed everything.

Let me play Grinch for a second and say that I'm not a huge fan of the holiday season.  Starting after Halloween, my die-hard Delilah fandom turns into a fiery hatred for the entire light rock radio station, when it replaces my beloved all-American hits with cheesy and repetitive Christmas music.  I hate shopping anytime and anywhere there are more than 5 people in line, which does not bode well for my Christmas shopping.

A friend of mine from Germany once confided in me that she used to think Americans were outrageous gluttons until she met me and the other SAGE students--thanks to the movie Jingle All the Way, starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, about a father who pretty much destroys his city to get his hands on the action figure that was the only acceptable Christmas gift for his young son.  "Now I know that's completely ridiculous!" she said, but I cut her laughter short with a story about the time I was in the hospital with chicken pox until 10:30pm on Christmas Eve, 1996.  I had the sweetest nurse, who felt so bad for me spending my Christmas vacation in the hospital that she would always bring me baby T-shirts for my favorite doll, fun activities to do in my hospital bed, and other cute hospital paraphernalia.  She was in tears the night I went home (although I didn't find out until later) because she had bought me a Tickle-Me-Elmo for Christmas (hot toy of the year) and another nurse stole it out of her locker.

I'm STILL devastated thinking of this.  Not because I give a shit whether I have a Tickle-Me-Elmo or not (who even remembers those things anymore anyway), but because I can't believe anyone cares so much about SHIT to steal something out of a nurse's locker at the hospital!  Let's not get into pepper spray or people trampling each other at Walmart to grab something first without even knowing what it is.

Believe it or not, I could tell you other things I dislike about the Christmas season...  But I won't Scrooge you any longer about it.

Because Stephen is one of the people with whom it is impossible for me to hate it.  He doesn't make fun of me for the fact that Mariah Carey's Christmas albums are the only ones I like.  In fact, we compete for who can sing along louder.  He makes the best Christmas cookies and doesn't set limits on how many you're allowed to eat in one sitting.  He looks really handsome in ugly Christmas sweaters, and is the most cute in his chic pea coat and wintery accessories.  Also, his perpetually adorable dimples literally sparkle when they get snowflakes in them.  (Sorry to put you on the spot, Stephen, but I only speak the truth.)

Last year I lived and breathed with half of the St. Olaf Orchestra's cello section, so I couldn't really escape the Christmasfest spirit even if I wanted to.  (I'm not that much of a Scrooge, though, don't worry.)  We invited a ridiculous number of our closest friends to a Snowflake Extravaganza in our pod, and I actually had a really good time, although I think I was late...  I might have to work a little harder to bring that kind of Christmas spirit to my life this year.  My family isn't really that big on traditions that don't involve some sort of oddly-timed church service.

SO MANY LOVES OF MY LIFE IN THIS ROOM <3 

One thing I do like about Christmas is coming up with awesome gifts for people I love.  I started gathering gifts at least a month ago, which I'm very proud of, although I haven't made much progress lately...  I have a few excellent items on my shopping list this year, and in my craft box.

Right now I've got a lot of things stashed around my room and I've been meaning to wrap them all--but last week it suddenly occurred to me we don't have a Christmas tree yet!  Which is odd since the tree, and all the boxes of decorations, were overflowing the Greco's living room last weekend.  So, in a familiar pattern, I made a passing comment to my dad about it, who took me very seriously and made plans to go pick out a tree today.  I'm really excited actually, and I am not ashamed to say that I spent some time this morning thinking about what I would wear on this holiday-themed excursion.  Oddly enough, it's been sunny and warm more often than not lately, and this morning (December 3rd, if I might remind you) I was driving around town in a T-shirt with all my windows down in the car.  What is going on around here?!

Anyway, I decided that my hiking boots, which are still covered in mud from frisbee last weekend, would be the most practical footwear for this job.  Plus, they match my leather jacket which looks awesome with a red scarf, hat and gloves that I also plan to wear.  You can make fun of me if you want, but we all know that Christmas tree farms pose an unusual fire hazard, with all that romance sparking among the pines, so it's important to look your holiday-movie best when completing this ritual.  You know, in case someone has to put out the blaze with his lips or something.

Ahem.  I am not so delusional, but this is the first year I've managed to stay awake to the end of Love Actually since freshman year, when I watched it pretty much every time I did laundry.  Let's just say I'm starting to believe in love again, and I dare to hope again that, someday, I will kiss someone under a streetlamp in a dusting of snow.  I remember freshman year, Thanksgiving break, driving with some friends to the Cities, where all the trees along the sidewalks downtown are wrapped in coils of Christmas lights, and little fires are lit inside of street corner pedestals.  Mang Boy jumped up to light his cigarette in one of them, and I felt momentarily paralyzed by one of the Beautiful Moments that comprise my life in images.  There was something so raw and real and imperfect about his cigarette in the cold and the brand-new snow that made Christmas, in all its hypocrisy, feel relevant and true-to-life.  And I guess that's what I'm looking for.

My spirits are high now.  I'm going to go with my family to pick out a Christmas tree, and then I'm going to wrap the presents I already have and stick them underneath it.  I'm not going to drown out the Christmas music with complaints or by breathing fire or anything, and sometime today I'm going to dig up the Christmas lights from the bottom of my yet-to-unpack boxes and hang them around my room.

Thanks, Stephen.  Even from thousands of miles away you still share Christmas better than anyone I know.

As a matter of interest, St. Olaf's Christmasfest will be simulcast nationwide TOMORROW, Dec. 4.  Find it in a theater near you.