I'll show you merry.

Wanna know a secret? I hate Christmas. Hate it.

Here's why:

*Nothing is done on my own terms; it's all done because "that's how it's supposed to be."

*I hate having an entire day that revolves around sitting on my ass at Aunt/Uncle's house and pretending to be engaged in a conversation about so-and-so's pregnancy or such-and-such's dog. Can we talk about the effects of severe lead poisoning instead? Because it's more interesting to me than your Middle American forced domestic bliss.

*Instead of the above, my limited time could be better spent one-on-one with those I really enjoy seeing when I return to The Land that Birthed Me. But you can't do that at the holidays, because everyone is so effing busy maintaining their facade.

*Christmas is a total sham and we all know it. It's a Druidic winter solstice celebration; Christians just slapped some Jesus into it and called it their own. If we called it what it was instead of pretending it's all about a holy teenage pregnancy I MIGHT be more inclined to celebrate. Maybe.

*I don't like obligatory presents. Obligation defeats the purpose of giving a gift.

*Watching people drink to overcome social anxiety with one another is less fun than it sounds.

*Watching those same people get in their cars after drinking for four hours is less fun than that.

*Flying. I hate flying. I hate the schlep to the airport, I hate the ridiculous bag x-ray process, I hate other travelers, I hate the smug look on the TSA guy's face when he checks my passport, I hate that I have to put my laptop, my bag and my coat all in separate bins and I REALLY hate taking my shoes off in the airport. It's humiliating.

*There is no magic. None. You know why? Because nobody gets a real fucking tree anymore, and Christmas magic only happens in the middle of the night by the dim glow of the lights on a live conifer, with that amazing pine smell filling the air and the soft scratching sound of dry needles on glass ornaments.

And that's how I feel about Christmas.