Eat me Hallmark

Normally I go into the Trifecta of Holiday Hell, which includes Christmas, New Year's and Valentine's Fucking Day, kicking and screaming. Halloween is my favorite for a reason. Give me some spooky stories and a truckload of chocolate any day over Santa and his bastard reindeer. There's too much pressure for all the rest of them. Unattainable perfection being the key. Have to find the perfect gift, the perfect outfit, the perfect date. Or any date at all. "Oh, Betty isn't bringing anyone home for the holiday's again?" Fuck right off. I'm fine by myself thankyouverymuch. I might want it, but I don't need it. And I certainly don't need it to define myself, as nice as it would be.

I know everyone is surprised every year when you've just recovered from the labor-day picnic's, putting the summer away into the back of the closet with that ab-roller you're gonna use again some day, and you run to the drug store for some condoms and beer, ah, I mean, to refill your prescription, and there's that isle. You know the one I'm talking about. It's usually stocked with cheap flip-flops and school supplies, and now it's teaming over with tinsel and an animatronic snowman who grabs its belly and loudly laughs when you pass by giving you a mild heart-attack in the process.

WTF people? It's SEPTEMBER. Please stop shoving Christmas down our throats. There's a lot of things I'd rather have down there and red foil wrapping paper is not one of them.

I decided to try and ignore it all this year. Avoiding that area of whatever store I was in, which is decidedly difficult since I'm an over-shopper and find myself cruising through stores on a regular basis. But I was doing O.K. I was able to mentally block out the bells hanging from the rafters and the Grinch slippers. But yesterday was just too much.

I was feeling pretty good and needed to go the mall. As it happens, my best friend was already there and we decided to meet up for some girl-time. Everything was going fine until we made our way to the center of the indoor mall. I'd been able to block out the musak, turned a blind eye to the ornament store, and didn't acknowledge the stockings hung with care in shop windows. Then, we saw it. There in all it's glory was an 80 foot fake Christmas tree and nestled under its huge boughs was none-other than fucking Santa fucking Claus himself. WTF I say! W? T? F? IT'S NOT EVEN THANKSGIVING YET!!

Isn't this some type of sacrilege or something? Are we going to see the Easter Bunny traipsing around with that naked New Year's baby? Should we present heart-shaped boxes of candy to our betrothed on the fourth of July?? Are there not enough calendar kiosks available to those that seem determined to ignore the pre-set-for-a-million-years days of the year and those holiday's that never, ever change? Preparation is one thing but come on! The limits are being pushed every year to ridiculous proportions. And there was a huge line! Huge!

I would throw these people a bone if they're trying to send out Christmas cards or something with their rugrats sitting on the fat man's lap, but with modern technology this can be done closer to the actual holiday and not bastardizing turkey day, which in my opinion is now superior to X-mas anyway since you don't have to do anything but show up at someone's house wearing pie-accomodating stretchy pants. Now Thanksgiving is being totally glossed over and are we going to lose sight of celebrating the raping, pillaging and ripping-off of our native forepeople? I can't even get started on how fucking over-PC everything is now. I must stay focused on these industries hosing with special days and turning them into nothing more than races to get the hershey kisses wrapped in brown foil 4 months before you sit down to dinner with all the trimmings.

And too top it off, it was so crowded it might as well have been X-mas eve. I'm a shopper of professional ilk, but there's no way in hell you'll catch me going back there until after Jan 1. Thank dog for the internet.

Santa, in the mall, before Thanksgiving. Stupid.