Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. This year, I haven’t felt much in the spirit, oddly. It’s been way more busy than usual, and a scramble to get presents for everyone. I am 112% done with shopping forever. (Or until gift cards start burning holes in my pockets. Heh.) Even the Christmas lights I strung up around my bedroom burned out.
The house smells like a restaurant, because Dad’s new obsession is a deep fryer. It also smells a funeral home, because of some huge bouquets we have left over… So like a deep-fried wake.
I’m listening to Sufjan Stevens Christmas music, and I can’t decide if I like it, or if I want to punch a hipster, or if I want to punch a hipster on the shoulder in a friendly way? Either way, it’s not really getting me into the spirit, either.
Maybe it’s because I feel like everything is new this year, and different… A lot of our traditions aren’t the same anymore. And if they’ve changed, it’s because they’ve had to– we’re at different points in life, or at least I am. Working, having other people to see at other gatherings, being in charge of actually putting Christmas stuff together (and all the solo shopping that entails). There’s no snow yet, and not so many decorations this year either. No cookie baking from me. Mom hasn’t played what I consider her “traditional” Christmas music (read: Amy Grant) and I can’t seem to find the same versions of carols I remember from years ago, like the Coventry Carol or Do You Hear What I Hear. I haven’t even watched any Christmas movies! This whole Advent could be summarized with an image of me looking goggle-eyed at a pink candle like “wat”.
I don’t want to be depresso or anything. Actually, an hour ago I was sitting in the basement with Luke, talking and watching him play some kind of battle game on the computer. Every time he got killed in the game a border popped up saying “Season’s Greetings” and framing the dying shot in snowflakes.
Luke: “That was Christmasy.”
I guess I want to get into some new (possibly my own) traditions. But part of me also wants to revive the old ones that everyone left behind. Like Amy Grant music and cream cheese.
Or being forced to go to bed. We’re going to try going to midnight Mass this year, and Mom said, “What if we had all our presents when we got home from Mass?” and my internal monologue at that moment just went “WHAT IS HAPPENING we are supposed to go to bed and set our alarms and Luke will set 9 alarms on his Nintendo and we will try various methods of secretly messaging each other before we inevitably fall asleep MOM WHAT ARE YOU SUGGESTING”.
So next year I want to send Christmas cards (I keep swearing that I will) and maybe make– I don’t know– peppermint bark or something, to give away. And I obviously need to cultivate my own Christmas music collection.
Definitely starting with “Wonderful Christmastime”. The space noises!