November 28, 1998

Okay, I was nice. I concentrated on the coming of Halloween and Thanksgiving, ignored all the Christmas decorations and celebrations I came across, and pushed all thoughts of jolly gift-giving out of my head. But no more. On Thanksgiving, I had the incredibly good fortune to catch How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and when that green man's itty bitty heart grew three sizes, and those darling Whos started singing, I was finally won over by the Christmas-loving advertisers. Now, I'm pumped. I mean, my mother and I woke up at 6 in the morning just because Marshall Fields was giving away free "Max the Dog" (Grinch's dog, for all you spoot-heads who don't know the story) bean-bag dolls for their Day After Thanksgiving Sale. Nuts, I know, but I guess I did kind of need that new pair of jeans (it's actually really disgusting, because now I, the person who adores Target's teen section- nothing's over $39.95, I swear-, own a pair of jeans that originally cost $54. I think I'm treading in semi-sell-out waters, don't you?).

People scream about how Christmas has become a total merchandise holiday. You know the shpeel, about how we forget Jesus' birth, and it's all about getting gifts, and how no one really cares anymore. Personally, I don't agree. Most of the people I know love giving out gifts, which is exactly what we've been taught ever since childhood. Yes, it's kind of gotten away from the religious focus, but maybe where it's gone isn't such a bad place. Now, in a time when even nuclear families barely talk to each other, Christmas is wonderful at bringing everyone together for a few weeks. They say Christmas is only one day, and sure, technically- yeah. But do you forget the fun of going to pick out a tree, bringing it home, watching your parents struggle to put it up straight, and then decorating it? Do you forget conspiring with your siblings to find out where the folks hid the presents this year? Do you forget sitting on Santa's lap when you were younger? The celebration Christmas Eve, and then the parties all Christmas Day? No, this holiday lasts throughout December, beginning with St. Nicholas day. We get together and laugh, and plan, and celebrate, and remember, and the feeling of Christmas swells in our hearts. It comes pouring out in all our actions, which we can't help but make a little bit nicer than they were a month ago. Doesn't matter how many labels are attached to our gifts, because that core of happiness is still there, and that's all that really matters.

My favorite part of Christmas, by far, are the carols. My favorite one is "Deck the Halls," but only if all three verses are sung. Everyone knows the first one, and it's guaranteed to be bad if you only sing that. I don't really know why I love the singing so much. Maybe it's because I've been in a choir for five and a half years, and it's obviously a pleasurable experience for me. Maybe it's just because it really is one more way that this season connects people. But that's just in general, really. Two people are never more connected than when they are singing the same song, on the same pitch, or in harmony with one another. God knows they probably aren't in harmony doing anything else together. Singing is holding hands, only through music. Some hands, such as one belonging to your Mr. Right, send chills up and down your spine, just as some songs, such as Deck the Halls, give you an aesthetic response, as Mr. McOlgan likes to say (well, except for the hands and Deck the Halls part, that is).

For two months, I've been totally obsessing with a nasty incident that happened the week of homecoming. It had to do with friendships, and how I saw them. It also had to do with how I was dealing with things that were happening to me that I didn't like. I was passive, really. Let it slide, because there's no need to cause a fuss that might disrupt the lives of people, especially the ones who are pissing me off. Really what it was was that I didn't want to explain myself. I wasn't sure I could take all my feelings, put them into a few smooth, concise sentences and not be dubbed a complete......um.....bad...person. And as it turns out, I still can't. I tried, but as it turned out, they would much rather believe a side of the story that really made me look like a shallow...um....bad...person. And that's okay, because what a shame it would have been if they had gotten it, because a week later I'm trying to explain it to one of my closest friends, and he doesn't get it either. Man oh man oh man.

So, to continue with the topic of "C", I'll talk about communication (last thing, I swear). I'm a total believer in the fact that no one can see anything from someone else's point of view. There's always a prejudice, a bias of some sort, that will get in their way. No one really knows how anyone is feeling, because their feelings are probably nothing like the person they are trying to relate to. For example, I have a friend that can, and does narrow everything down to two words. "That sucks" "He's stupid" " 'beepin' psycho" And while this doesn't bug me, I know that in the exact same situation, my feelings towards the matter would be something like, "Wowsers, Penny! That's not good, I'm sorry" "He's a mysoginistic bastard" and "Oddity of nature. Cool!" Which brings me back to my point (don't even say it).While my eleven or so reasons for changing my life were completely rational to me and others (mostly females), a lot of others couldn't understand them because they brought up points they couldn't relate to. I won't hide it, a little had to do with my growing sense of feminist thinking, and to tons of people, that brings up a picture of crazy army dressed...um...bad....people who go around cursing the existence of men in general. I'm not bringing up my feelings on THAT ('cause I promised you this would be it), but I'll just say that my vision differs- a lot. So, with these conflicting ideas floating around in our heads, is it any surprise that no communication was made between us? I think not.

But, hey, that's all right. I don't mind- let them think whatever they want, because as long as I'm secure in myself, I'll be okay. And for those friends that I lose, not because I want to, but because their visions correlate more closely with the others than with me- well, that's a loss I'm prepared to handle. In the meantime, I've got gift shopping to worry about, and now that my two months of obsessing are over with, I probably have some refreshing catching up to do, too. To leave you, let's first sing some Wallflowers (Laughing Out Loud): "I'm laughing out loud, when I didn't ever know, just what it was all about, I'm laughing out loud, when I didn't ever know, just why you pushed me around." and, in their joyous, merry ways, the Whos, with their signature piece: "Flora foras, doora doras, Christmas, Christmas time is near. Flora foras, doora doras, Christmas, Christmas day is here." (Note: the beginning of that last quote may be off, but the actual words are right, I think)