Bah Bleedin' Humbug
Christmas makes me incredibly tetchy. I don't think I'd mind it so much if the whole "oooh, it's the season to be happy and joyful and spend time with your family who actually you can't stand but have to pretend you like even when you've been drinking heavily" thing started in December, but it doesn't. It starts in BLOODY SEPTEMBER. In this country, September is often the end of summer. It is hot (for the UK). People are wearing skimpy t-shirts and sandals. Maybe the advertising people want us to have a taste of what it's like to have Christmas in Australia or something - that's the only thing I can think of to explain why I am wandering about in my summer clothes looking at pictures of a fat housebreaker with a white beard and a bunch of inanely-grinning reindeer. So what do I do? I go into complete Christmas denial. The only way I can deal with the whole business is to develop mental blinkers about anything that involves tinsel, elves, mistletoe and Cliff feckin' Richard. (Actually, mental blinkers regarding him are probably good policy year-round.) Then, before I know it, it's the middle of December. My brain snaps abruptly out of its self-induced reverie. There's a sudden, horrible transition between "lalalalaaaa, no Christmas here" and "ohshitohshitohFUCK I haven't bought a SINGLE BLOODY THING". This has been compounded rather by the vast hordes of in-laws I'm about to inherit. There's a lot to be said for marrying an only child.
And don't even get me started on the bloody catalogue people. Around October-November time, every newspaper sheds half a tree's worth of pamphlets and we're inundated with TV ads for The Park Catalogue. "Start Saving Now for Christmas 2005". Excuse me? I'm supposed to decide NOW what I'm going to buy for people in THIRTEEN MONTHS' TIME??? Surely if someone wants something THAT much and they don't get it for Christmas, they'll buy it for themselves before next December? And if they don't really want it, why are you buying it for them? And what the bloody hell is it with those things which are designed especially for the season? You know, the shit in the Innovations catalogue and the like. Golfing socks. Amusing tie-clips holders. Things which have NO POINT WHATSOEVER except for being a gift that you give to someone because you have no idea what to get them / are too unimaginative to think of a proper present / are shopping at the last minute in a blind panic and have to buy SOMETHING. People obviously buy this crap, because every year there seem to be more catalogues. Of course, being a home-owner now, my name, address, age, marital status and probably bra size are a matter of public knowledge on some massive marketing database somewhere, so I get even more of this bollocks through the post.
Elf and I tried to go shopping for mundane things last week. It was midweek and late morning. We got to Bromley and got the nose of the car into the car park. It then took us about 40 minutes of crawling to find a space, followed by a terrifying 2-minutes-that-felt-like-2-hours trying to back into a parking space with loads of other people trying to nose past, or just staring at me. The shops were absolutely packed. This was the second of December. People still had THREE WEEKS to buy stuff. That's loads of time, isn't it? I felt like a freak for wanting to buy ordinary things like milk. Tis the season to rub yourself in lard and bathe in cream as well. You can't buy the normal things you want because approximately a quarter of the aisles are taken up with wrapping paper, bucket-sized tubs of chocolate and Interesting Christmas Gift Ideas.
It's at this time of year when I'm passionately and pathetically glad that I don't work in the retail industry. My heart goes out to those who do. The flashing lights. The constant loop of "cheerful" songs. One year, a local supermarket had a singing Christmas tree by the door. Every few minutes, a big red mouth would open in the nasty fake green foliage and declare "ho ho ho, Merrrrrrrrry Christmas!" and then the thing would sing. The checkout staff had the sort of look that you associate with survivors of a massive traumatic accident. I swear one of them mouthed "just kill me" as she scanned my stuff. Of course, there's always those people who you work with who just LURVE Christmas. I really upset one of them once when I wish it could be Christmas every daaaaay started to play and, grumpy bitch that I am, I muttered, "If it was Christmas every day, I'd fucking kill myself".
Having said this, I like buying things for people. Well, some people. But I detest the idea that you have to plunge yourself into bankruptcy or else you're a nasty mean person who just DOESN'T CARE about the Spirit of Christmas and lots of twinkly fairies and darling little elves will probably DIE and it's ALL YOUR FAULT. I don't earn an enormous amount of money, I've just got a mortgage and I'm planning a wedding. But my family are in high-paying jobs. They go on holiday a lot. They buy nice things. So I always spend a load more than I want to out of guilt. Plus my family are all impossible to buy for. If they want something, they will buy it. I ask them what they want and they say "Oh, I don't really mind" but they DO. And my father's birthday is on January 1st. I'm at my wits' end trying to figure out what to get him - he doesn't have any hobbies apart from his computer and tech stuff (minimum spend there about a month's salary). I try to be innovative. He says "thank you dear, that's lovely" then the gift gets put to one side for my mother to store somewhere. But god forbid I don't get him a present. My mother is one of those people who asks you what you want then gets you something totally different anyway. WHY BLOODY ASK??
Elf and I had a reasonably successful present-shopping day today. We also tried to find fabric for bridesmaids' dresses, but were foiled by the fact that green isn't "in" this season. That's right, folks - you physically cannot buy green fabric at the moment because the fashion people say you're not allowed. The sales assistant was incredibly patronising, to the extent where we didn't say anything because we were so gobsmacked. Fair enough, things go in and out of fashion, but there was NO green fabric of any kind in the shops. Absolutely none. It was just weird. Ironically, I came close to yelling, "But it's bloody Christmas - of course green is in bloody fashion!"
But I will be overtaken by the Seasonal Spirit (vodka, or port which is technically not a spirit but Seasonal Fortified Wine sounds wrong). At some point, the smell of pine needles and the sparkliness of tinsel start to worm their way into my frosty, evil, shrivelled heart. I DO like wrapping presents. I like cooking. There are things I love about the Christmas season, such as Starbucks gingerbread latte and chocolate mint bliss, and the fact that work is shut for almost two weeks. Yup, shout it from the rooftops - WORK IS SHUT FOR ALMOST TWO WEEKS!!
Added: I've now unlocked this entry and made the end part into a separate locked one, cos it contained my email address. Just in case I got flamed by a thousand rosy-faced little Christmas cherubs, or something.
And don't even get me started on the bloody catalogue people. Around October-November time, every newspaper sheds half a tree's worth of pamphlets and we're inundated with TV ads for The Park Catalogue. "Start Saving Now for Christmas 2005". Excuse me? I'm supposed to decide NOW what I'm going to buy for people in THIRTEEN MONTHS' TIME??? Surely if someone wants something THAT much and they don't get it for Christmas, they'll buy it for themselves before next December? And if they don't really want it, why are you buying it for them? And what the bloody hell is it with those things which are designed especially for the season? You know, the shit in the Innovations catalogue and the like. Golfing socks. Amusing tie-clips holders. Things which have NO POINT WHATSOEVER except for being a gift that you give to someone because you have no idea what to get them / are too unimaginative to think of a proper present / are shopping at the last minute in a blind panic and have to buy SOMETHING. People obviously buy this crap, because every year there seem to be more catalogues. Of course, being a home-owner now, my name, address, age, marital status and probably bra size are a matter of public knowledge on some massive marketing database somewhere, so I get even more of this bollocks through the post.
Elf and I tried to go shopping for mundane things last week. It was midweek and late morning. We got to Bromley and got the nose of the car into the car park. It then took us about 40 minutes of crawling to find a space, followed by a terrifying 2-minutes-that-felt-like-2-hours trying to back into a parking space with loads of other people trying to nose past, or just staring at me. The shops were absolutely packed. This was the second of December. People still had THREE WEEKS to buy stuff. That's loads of time, isn't it? I felt like a freak for wanting to buy ordinary things like milk. Tis the season to rub yourself in lard and bathe in cream as well. You can't buy the normal things you want because approximately a quarter of the aisles are taken up with wrapping paper, bucket-sized tubs of chocolate and Interesting Christmas Gift Ideas.
It's at this time of year when I'm passionately and pathetically glad that I don't work in the retail industry. My heart goes out to those who do. The flashing lights. The constant loop of "cheerful" songs. One year, a local supermarket had a singing Christmas tree by the door. Every few minutes, a big red mouth would open in the nasty fake green foliage and declare "ho ho ho, Merrrrrrrrry Christmas!" and then the thing would sing. The checkout staff had the sort of look that you associate with survivors of a massive traumatic accident. I swear one of them mouthed "just kill me" as she scanned my stuff. Of course, there's always those people who you work with who just LURVE Christmas. I really upset one of them once when I wish it could be Christmas every daaaaay started to play and, grumpy bitch that I am, I muttered, "If it was Christmas every day, I'd fucking kill myself".
Having said this, I like buying things for people. Well, some people. But I detest the idea that you have to plunge yourself into bankruptcy or else you're a nasty mean person who just DOESN'T CARE about the Spirit of Christmas and lots of twinkly fairies and darling little elves will probably DIE and it's ALL YOUR FAULT. I don't earn an enormous amount of money, I've just got a mortgage and I'm planning a wedding. But my family are in high-paying jobs. They go on holiday a lot. They buy nice things. So I always spend a load more than I want to out of guilt. Plus my family are all impossible to buy for. If they want something, they will buy it. I ask them what they want and they say "Oh, I don't really mind" but they DO. And my father's birthday is on January 1st. I'm at my wits' end trying to figure out what to get him - he doesn't have any hobbies apart from his computer and tech stuff (minimum spend there about a month's salary). I try to be innovative. He says "thank you dear, that's lovely" then the gift gets put to one side for my mother to store somewhere. But god forbid I don't get him a present. My mother is one of those people who asks you what you want then gets you something totally different anyway. WHY BLOODY ASK??
Elf and I had a reasonably successful present-shopping day today. We also tried to find fabric for bridesmaids' dresses, but were foiled by the fact that green isn't "in" this season. That's right, folks - you physically cannot buy green fabric at the moment because the fashion people say you're not allowed. The sales assistant was incredibly patronising, to the extent where we didn't say anything because we were so gobsmacked. Fair enough, things go in and out of fashion, but there was NO green fabric of any kind in the shops. Absolutely none. It was just weird. Ironically, I came close to yelling, "But it's bloody Christmas - of course green is in bloody fashion!"
But I will be overtaken by the Seasonal Spirit (vodka, or port which is technically not a spirit but Seasonal Fortified Wine sounds wrong). At some point, the smell of pine needles and the sparkliness of tinsel start to worm their way into my frosty, evil, shrivelled heart. I DO like wrapping presents. I like cooking. There are things I love about the Christmas season, such as Starbucks gingerbread latte and chocolate mint bliss, and the fact that work is shut for almost two weeks. Yup, shout it from the rooftops - WORK IS SHUT FOR ALMOST TWO WEEKS!!
Added: I've now unlocked this entry and made the end part into a separate locked one, cos it contained my email address. Just in case I got flamed by a thousand rosy-faced little Christmas cherubs, or something.