I don’t make a secret of not really enjoying the holidays. I start thinking about Christmas in September, largely because by the time December rolls around, the only thing I want to think about is baking, drinking coffee, and hanging out with friends and family. The reality is, December rolls around and I’m still worrying about presents because there’s always more people to shop for or more shopping to do for the same people. I start getting anxious about how people will view me through the chosen medium of expression for the season: gift-giving.
The point is, I don’t like the Holidays, even if I do like a lot of things about them. I like getting time off work, I like Menorah candles and Christmas lights. I like sitting down and eating a long meal with family and friends. I like wine and egg nog and hot spiced cider. I hate presents. I don’t mind birthday presents, or even random presents throughout the year. But an enormous orgy of presents for all – it’s not my idea of fun.
When my dad died, the holidays in my house got a lot sparer. My mother wasn’t baking as many cookies, and we didn’t have as many presents. We were all grown up so we slept in and then woke up to drink black coffee and eat cinnamon rolls before we started unwrapping presents. But it was nice. It was quiet and dim, excepting christmas tree lights, and it was intimate.
That’s not to say that an enormous gift orgy is entirely a bad idea – just that it’s not really my cup of tea (or glogg, as it were). The Holidays were always special for me because of the moments you have with people before them and during them.
When I was 17, I got my first job. Christmas rolled around and I was excited because I finally had money to buy people presents. At the time I thought having that money would free me up to buy people amazing presents. So I spent hundreds of dollars on people and then, afterwards, I thought about how empty it felt. I hadn’t made anything creative for anyone that year. I hadn’t put much thought into the gifts. I felt like I had been played by consumerism and I wanted my money back because it hadn’t brought me or anyone else any real joy.
That realization caused me to revolt against gift-giving pretty severly, leading me to give people homemade presents, dollar store gifts and socks primarily. It also caused me to give a donation of blood for Christmas when I was 20, which made me sick and unable to drink on a perfectly good December weekend (not that I drank underage… or anything…).
I’m out of being against gift-giving entirely, but giving gifts in a fitting manner means thinking about people, and sometimes buying gifts for someone I don’t know very well trips me up. It also takes a lot of time to give gifts in a way that makes me feel better, spiritually.
I’m mostly writing this entry because I am compiling a list of possible gifts for family members, and it’s driving me moderately crazy.
K.
The contents and writing style of this entry may not reflect the views or distinctive style of Webmaster of Doom, Michael.
2 Comments
I wanted to respond to this when I initially read it but didn’t get around to it. The holidays are HARD. The gift stuff is HARD. I try to walk some line of giving people something they will like without just giving them something from a list and without stressing myself out.
I like to make stuff but I have limited time. I have a lot of stuff started but not finished that is intended to be a gift for you, mom, mad, etc. N’s mom is trying to get me to make her a sweater and I would love to but there’s this whole TIME thing. That is frustrating to me. It’s frustrating that I “solve” the problem by throwing money at it. Ridiculous.
I hate the stress of the holidays but I do love seeing family (both).
oh and: I love to get handmade stuff. I really do. I know some people snub their noses at it and that part stresses me out too (omg, what if I give someone something I made and they HATE it! or what if it disintegrates! etc). You, Mom, Mad all seem appreciative so I continue to give you stuff, but I still worry.
Post a Comment