Don't Be Fooled By the Fa-La-La

The holidays get me down. And I know I'm not alone in that sentiment.

The other day, I was driving along in my little red Jeep (which, by the way, is more broken than it is functional at this point -- both turning signals switch the lights off, there's no rearview mirror, and the radio no longer lights up. Go ahead, steal it, you're in for a surprise!) when I heard a story on AM radio. It was about a church somewhere in the area that was offering a "Blue Christmas" service for people who are sad on this supposedly "joyous" holiday. I can just imagine -- carols that lean towards somber instead of cheery, no one in red and green, and a whole line of mopey people waiting for a cracker. Sounds delightful.

But you know what? It kind of does sound great. I want to go to the Blue Christmas mass. Somber carols? I'm down. Those are prettier than the happy ones anyway. No red and green? Fine by me. Everything lining my closet is black and grey. And mopey people? I think I'd fit right in at this point.

See, here's the thing. Holidays are a whole lot of pressure. Since Thanksgiving we've been bombarded by ads to buy The Greatest Christmas Present Ever! and make The Greatest Christmas Food Ever! But seriously, nothing on Christmas is going to be The Greatest anything. It's never as good as you want it to be. Christmas just can't live up to its own hype.

Christmas also makes me feel old. It's been years since I learned Santa was just a big, fraudulent scheme wrought by my parents to sneak me some loot. And I was OK with that, as long as the presents were still involved. But once the presents started to dwindle, I tried to convince myself that Christmas was about family. And free food (What? I'm in college. I appreciate a home cooked meal now more than ever.) "Oh," I would think, "I'm so EXCITED to get in the minivan with the little kids and go to New Jersey in Christmas Eve traffic! I'm ECSTATIC to spend Christmas in a house overrun by relatives and step-relatives and over-cooked meat! Because I'm with my family! And that's what matters!"

It didn't work.

But I'm a perpetual optimist. Last Friday I watched the snow fall on our yard full of accidental lawn ornaments (a destroyed swing set, lines of baking racks from my mom's last failed business attempt) and I turned on Elvis' "Blue Christmas" album while I made gingerbread cookies. The house was silent, the snow was beautiful, and I could listen to Elvis warble Christmas carols forever. But for a second, I thought that maybe I understood what the holiday season is supposed to be about when you start to grow up a little bit. It's about being thankful for what you have -- namely, a few days off to spend time doing completely useless things like eating too much and making cookies and playing in the snow.

So to the approximately 3.5 people who read my blog: Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy New Year, whatever. But if you're feeling a little blue, like me, it's OK. Because, answer me this: Does ANYONE actually have a Merry Christmas? Ever? I say no. 

There! The pressure's off. Now go eat some cookies.