Holidays? Whateva.

I would say that the majority of my friends and acquaintances are holiday people. In other words, they are somewhat obsessed with decoration, family time, and unnecessarily cheesy holiday cards. Not once in my life have I been able to understand this. I've never fully accepted Christianity or baskets full of calories, so I find no joy in Easter. I have always been single on Valentine's Day, so it doesn't affect me at all. I don't eat very much candy and children scare me, so Halloween is just another night in. I dislike champagne and loud noise, and staying up till midnight is almost a nightly occurrence, so New Year's isn't that big of a blast. I'm a vegan, so "Turkey Day" isn't all that appealing to me. Also, the winter weather is horrid, and how anyone could celebrate by maxing out their credit cards and calling it love is beyond me.

For example, I'm always up to helping out my mother whether she calls for it or not, but laboring over plastic lights to decorate the house just exhausts my mental stability. I can't fathom how the ideas of cutting down pine trees and shoving them in the corner of your living room or hunting down a flock of turkeys for the dinner table is culturally acceptable. Posting thankful blogs, tweets, and facebook statuses seems so incredibly shallow to me. Why not do this any time it feels appropriate? It's sure fine and dandy that there's a holiday dedicated to stuffing your face with a wild animal, but why is this accompanied with false well-wishings and compliments? If someone's been there for you your whole life, you better damn well thank them all the time. It's so much more logical to thank someone for saving your life, cooking you dinner, or loving you unconditionally than just because it's the end of November and oh gosh, what if you never get to thank them again?

Don't even get me started on Christmas. If I wanted to have a [real or fake] tree in the area of my house that I utilize the least, I would, and there's nothing wrong with not having the motivation to put one there. Just because I feel that there are worthier things to spend money on than gifts for people who probably won't appreciate them in the long run anyway doesn't mean I'm shallow or lack the ability to have fun. If that was true, I wouldn't invite my friends over around the holidays. I wouldn't want to see anyone, and I'm definitely not a total Grinch.

My lack of enthusiasm for the holidays only worries me a bit when I think about my potential children's happiness. What if I just sit around every holiday like I do now and don't give a crap about decorations or pretty things around the house or holiday light shows or family time? Assuming I have a legitimate family in the future, unlike now, of course. One of the most magical things about being a child is looking forward to Santa Clause, school breaks for the holidays, and Valentines in the classroom - at least for me it was. I enjoyed festivities at one point even if I think they're ridiculous now. Should I feign excitement about the holidays when I'm older, is that parents do when they lose heart?

My mother, for one, always acts as wholeheartedly excited about the holidays as ever. Every December she's quick to let me know how her parents would never buy her anything if she downright claimed that Santa Clause didn't exist. This is all fine and well, but why does an abundance of electricity need to accompany this belief - along with annual arguments about whose turn it is to scrub the walls and the banister so that the fake Christmas wreaths don't collect even more dust than they already have? It really doesn't make sense. Neither does the overlarge, stuffed santa in the living room or the holiday bows tacked to the walls or the thirty dollar penguin that waves at whoever walks in the room - which is a 50/50 chance considering only two people occupy my house.

Really, though. Who do we decorate for? We don't invite the neighbors over and they've stopped barging in. My friends couldn't care less if I deck the halls or dress up like an elf, not at all. And splurging on holiday gifts is as ridiculous as paying $160 to get into a college. It's not necessary and won't ever be. I always leave the table early on Thanksgiving, and I've always forgotten that Christmas stockings even existed. There's no more excitement, and while I can attribute some of my lack of fun to my grandma's death, most of it is just my general mopiness.

There's my cold-hearted rant. Bye now.

why

don't my friends talk to me when i'm sad?
why is it that they only will listen when i'm happy?
why is it that i could be bawling my eyes out for hours, but if someone calls i immediately must regain mental metal?
why is this the norm, when i should be spilling my feelings?
why am i one of those people who know that release of emotions of good, yet no one will let her do it?
why, you dumb bitches, whYYY?