Me, give up on a project after one half-assed attempt? Don't act so surprised.
So while I wasn't writing contemplative blog posts about the experiences of the past year, the holiday season has crept up on me. I walked into Rite-Aid yesterday, fully prepared to roll my eyes and snort derisively at the aisles of Christmas candy and crappy ornaments, as has been my habit since October when all the Christmas shit first appeared. But suddenly, the XMas aisle was lookin' a little sparse. The fake trees and the candy cans have been thoroughly picked over, the five-pound bags of red and green Christmas M&Ms are now largely outnumbered by crappy plastic trays of stale holiday cookies. Who buys cookie trays in Rite-Aid? Besides hoarders or the elderly?
I digress.
It hit me then that the holiday season is official here and, in fact, is quickly approaching the Christmas climax. And my frigid little heart is nowhere near ready.
A quick glance around my apartment proves this fact. The corner where, in years past, my humble little fake tree stood is currently stacked with overdue library books. The kitchen still boasts the plastic jack-o-lantern from my Halloween party. There is also a fake bat hanging from the chandelier.
A carpet of notebooks, school papers, and Amy's sparkly fake mice surrounds the bed. In short -tattered cat toys are about the festive "decoration" in the house.
Instead of bustin' out the garland and Christmas carols, all my free time has been spent writing papers and slicin' tongue.
I did watch the holiday episodes of Community and 30 Rock this week, but even that felt strangely wrong:
"But -- Christmas is so far away!" I said to myself.
"Um -not really," my calendar replied.
"Seriously, why haven't you done any shopping? I'm only a cat and even I know this is the season for buying shit!" said Amy in disgust.
Things had clearly reached Scrooge-like levels of delusion.
So I did what I often do when seeking guidance about how to live my life: I turned to Sweet Mother TV for answers.
Sitcoms tell us that not every holiday can be the Best Holiday Ever. Christmas or not -- shit happens. Examples:
The Golden Girls:
Picture it -- Dorothy, Blanche and Rose are held hostage by a gun-wielding guy dressed as Santa who wanders into the Grief Counseling Center where Rose works. A holiday without cheesecake?! Say it ain't so!
Full House:
The Tanner family spends Christmas Eve stranded in an airport. This was especially tragic for all the other people forced to spend Christmas stranded in an airport with the Tanner family.
The Facts of Life:
Jo's parents suck, and she is forced to spend Christmas at Eastland with Mrs. Garrett selling fruitcakes. This actually sounds like the makings of the best Christmas ever.
Boy Meets World:
People lose their jobs, mall Santa has a heart attack, poor Mr. Feeny is like a sad old shut-in next door with no family. Weeping!
Roseanne:
Roseanne and Co. get snowed in at the diner on Christmas Eve. Better there than at the airport with the Tanner family, I suppose.
Yes, Tea Guarie -- there is a Santa Claus! And he is probably being played by a extra who graduated from Emerson College with a degree in Musical Theater.
In short -- the holidays are a time for the suspension of disbelief. No matter how outlandishly crappy your life may seem, you can have faith that Christmas will pull through with a happy ending. The holiday spirit can find us anywhere -- even snowed in at an airport, or trapped by a gun-toting Santa -- if we are just open to it. It's not too late for me to get on the holiday bandwagon -- after all, some of the best Christmases ever happened at the 11th hour.
Sigh. I feel jollier already! Thanks, TV.
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