Christ, No Mas

Expensive gifts and cards.  Family gatherings with estranged relatives.  Irritating cold.  Irritating people.  Moldy mistletoe and awkward exchanges.  Dead turkeys.  Dead hopes.  Commercialism and competitiveness.  24 hours of A Christmas Story.  Oh yeah, And Jesus is thrown in there somewhere, too.

This, my dears, is Christmas.

The worst time of the year.

Work
For me, Christmas hasn't been nice in years.  A big part of that happened when I started working.  Retail not only reveals the true evil of humanity but it really rears its fugly head during Christmas.  Tensions are high with the expectation to deliver nice gifts to friends/family/baby mamas coupled with the proclivity to procrastination.  They come in at the last minute and expect every article of clothing in every size waiting for them, perfectly folded and eighty percent off the suggested retail price.  Then, they expect coupons at the register because they were too irresponsible to remember to bring in their own.  And when we don't have those coupons or those shirts or the size they need, they get pissed and take it out on us.

In my town, there are really only two places to shop.  Where I work and Wal-Mart.  All I heard this season was, "Well, all I have to go is go to Wal-Mart and I'll be done with my Christmas shopping," or "I just came from Wal-Mart and it was a nightmare!"  Of course, the ones who just came from there are the ones who come up to me.  They are the most worked up because they've been waiting in long lines (out of the twenty or so registers they have, only four are open, which is better than their usual two).  They've just come from a fistfight with three other middle aged moms with cigarette breath and gray mullets over the last Hannah Montana poster/Salvia laced lip gloss combo pack.  And now they're coming into our store, tired and angry and expecting to be waited on like their aren't five hundred other people scrambling to purchase the last ill-fitting shirt on the table.  The sad part is it's not much different from any other time of the year.

And there is no Christmas cheer.  This year alone, I've had old women get nasty with me, yell at me, tell me I was lazy and call me fat.  There has been no "Merry Christmas!" or "Happy Holidays!"  It's only been, "This isn't ringing up on sale like the sign says!" or "What do you mean you don't have this in stock?  Why  not?!"  It doesn't help that it's our store's policy to not only allow the customer to abuse us, but to stand there and smile and take it.  I can't tell you how much it pains me to let people get away with such rude behavior when really they need a nice swift kick in the butt and to be told off one good time.

Family
I don't even know these people.  Every year, it's another uncomfortable visit with family that I only see specifically for Christmas and no other time.  I have no connection to them other than name and a little bit of blood.  Other than that, I don't have anything in common with them nor do I care to.  They are all in different stages of life than I am.  For one, there's a large age gap.  Everyone close to my age has kids now so any commonalities we once shared have been negated by the kids and the kids are too young for me to tolerate.  Everyone else is older than I am so there's no common ground there.

The only people I like other than my nuclear family is my grandmothers.  But, as the years pass by, it's getting harder to ignore the decline in their health.  It's always sad to see the toll the year has taken on them.  One is becoming senile while the other is becoming frail.

It's also a shame to see everyone else being such typical white trash.  I know that sounds harsh but it's the truth.  They all drink and smoke and have low wage jobs that are barely getting them by.  None of them went to college, if they graduated from high school at all, partly because they couldn't afford it and partly because they probably just didn't have that drive to become better than where they came from.  They shack up with other white trash families in the neighborhood and before you know it, we have another unexpected pregnancy and the cycle continues.  And because neither parent is educated and/or has a good-paying job nor is out of their late teens, the child will essentially be raised by children.  All the money will go toward beer, cigarettes and scrappy dogs that they can't take care of.

Of course, I'm not much better off than these people.  I went to college but I also had to take out exorbitant loans to pay for it and it's slowly coming back to bite me in the butt because I also have a low wage job and those loans are coming due.  But, at least I like to think that I often dream of better things for myself.  I suppose it's presumptuous of me to assume they don't but if they did, why would they then go out and knock up some dumb slut, thus cementing their skank status?

Judging?  Of course I'm judging.  It's what I do.  But don't think I don't judge myself just as harsh.  I'm overweight and balding and at twenty-five I'm working in a low-class retail clothing store where I have to put up with people's crap every single day and I'm not exceptionally talented or particularly smart.  I just happen to take hygiene a bit more serious than the rest of my relatives.

The Reason for the Season
I suppose I'm not the only one who wasn't exactly thrilled for Christmas this year.  In fact, I haven't been for several years now.  I guess it's almost a given as you grow older.  You stop believing in Santa and as you make your own money, you buy whatever you want whenever you want instead of having to wait until the end of the year.  It was almost nice, that excruciating anticipation and near nirvana-esque moment of tearing off that wrapping paper and finding yourself in possession of the item(s) you've been coveting for months, spending the day drunk on turkey and toys.

But, the older you get, the less fun it becomes.  Suspense is slacked.  Surprises are scarce.  Because, let's be honest, Christmas is about presents.

Of course, that's not what Christmas should be about.  For Christians, it should be all about Jesus.  Although the date is wrong, it's a commemoration of his birth.  I mean, he's kind of a big deal.  Without Him, we'd all be belly flopping into the lake of fire.  And if you're not a Christian, then the time should be about family.  It's one of the only times of year when you can get together with all of your relatives, especially those who have been fortunate enough to scatter and find a life somewhere else.   That is, if you like your relatives.

But, as for me, Christmas really never had to do with any of those things.

I think it's hard to be all about Jesus when you didn't grow up with Jesus being the center of your life.  My parents aren't particularly religious and never were.  They believe in God but I think that's about the extent of it.  We never went to church or prayed before a meal.  I don't even know if they are saved.  I don't even know if they know how to be saved.  And while I'm down with Jesus, He's usually far from my mind while I'm clutching my new XBox or other highly sought after electronic device.

I hate when people use the expression "remember the reason for the season."  I think people just say that to feel better about themselves as they go for that pair of jeans or purse.  As long as we have Jesus in the back (way, way back) of our minds as we max out our credit cards, then it's all good!  If we really remember the reason for the season, then all this gift-giving wouldn't be as big of a deal as it is.

I feel bad because I don't know what Christmas means to me anymore.  I've had a falling out with my faith this year and I've never been about family so where does this leave me?  How can Christmas be special without gifts or God or grandmothers?  How can I find that spark of excitement that seemed to have fizzled out so long ago?  It seems every year I become more jaded, more numb to the festivities, to family, to my self.  I guess I'll need to make some changes.  Calm down, slim down, appreciate what I have, get a better job, confidence, a nice wardrobe, tolerance for obnoxious people and love.  Love for God, for others and for myself.  And someone to love me.  And I'll need a heart to make all of this possible.

Man, Santa's got a tall order to fill for next year.