Oh my. It is already December, and I am already late with this blog. The words balderdash, poppycock, bologna, dribble, bollock, mumbo jumbo, BS, and similar descriptive phrases come screaming to mind.
It is apparent that December will be a b...east of a challenge. Why?
Oh, I have no idea really. The year has just blasted by and left little room for holiday anticipation. How can it possibly be December? The sparkle is dull; the magic is unimpressive; the hype is nauseating.
The onset of sickeningly sweet holiday blubber is feeding my Grinch alter ego. And we all know I can look stunning in green.
I am usually more elfinly elfish than anyone on the planet. Crazy Christmas baubles, award-winning ugly Christmas sweaters, and holiday music blaring so loudly that neighbors are guilted into hanging lights and stuffing stockings with wacky little trinkets and gifts.
Maybe it is just too early. Maybe I am lost in a daydream of sand and sunshine. Maybe I just don’t want to dig through the closet and drag out all my holiday garb.
Maybe I am just not in the mood. How does my favorite time of year become an annoyance?
My Christmas countdown usually includes nonstop holiday movies on autoplay. “White Christmas,” “It’s a Wonderful Life,” and “Miracle on 34th Street” always speak to my heart. Their messages never fade.
And I simply love the “Santa Clause” and “Christmas Chronicles” series as well.
Don’t be confused. The reason for the season lingers prophetically in my heart. But a jingle without a jangle leaves my Ho Ho Ho’s echoing in a vacuum of emptiness.
Although truth be told, it could be I need the never-ending flow of brandy-laced eggnog and champagne to boost my holiday spirit. Or maybe, just maybe, a soulful rendition of “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” will push me over the edge.
Hmmm. I wonder if I might be able to convince Alvin and the Chipmunks to sing it? Ah, but that is fodder for yet another rant.
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