My husband told me today that someone at work bid him a happy upcoming holiday weekend and he stared at them blankly for a moment, a bit confused, since St. Patrick’s Day was this past Monday.  “I can’t remember Easter ever being in the SAME WEEK as St. Patrick’s Day,” he said to me.

Seriously.  I haven’t even put away all my Christmas decorations yet.  They’re still lying around the utility room where I do the laundry, ornaments getting twisted in with the whites and showing up in the dryer two-and-a-half months after the tree came down.  And for that matter, the stores were all splashed with hearts and cheap stuffed cupid animals and last year’s Valentine’s Day candy surplus inventory before I had taken my holiday wreath off the door.  What’s with the Easter Bunny humping poor little St. Patty?  What did he do to deserve that?

I have so many issues with holidays, whether they’re stupid-ass, modern made up ones like Administrative Assistants’ Day or based on ancient histories.  But as for the marketing portion of my complaints, where in the name of God does all that shit GO when the holiday ends and the schizophrenia dies down?  (I feel that way when I go to Garden Ridge.  That football-field-sized warehouse of crap has to go SOMEWHERE.  It’s mindboggling to imagine those mountains of chintzy, aisle-kiosk comforters in plastic zipper bags lining the already full-to-bursting landfills.  I hope at least those get donated to charity, but there’s not much you can do with 6,000 extra little Buddha statues.)

So here we are at Easter.  I was raised Catholic, so I get the religious significance of the Easter holiday for those who believe Jesus was the son of God and rose from the dead on that day.  But where does the Easter Bunny come in?  Maybe the question is not as pressing for non-Christians and the bunny is completely a secular creation, but I haven’t yet done my research.  But I’m guessing a lot of Christians who recognize Easter as the Resurrection also do Easter baskets for kids on Easter Sunday (growing up, my family did).

So what if, in said households, the kids ask what the Easter Bunny has to do with Jesus rising from the dead?  Holiday marketers may offer an explanation along the lines of, ”Well, kiddies, when Jesus was crucified, there was this little rabbit who hopped around the cross keeping Jesus company in the hour of his death.  It was a very good friend to Jesus, and when Jesus’s body was laid in the tomb, the bunny kept hopping by to check on him.  Then, God told the bunny that on Easter Sunday He would be taking Jesus home to heaven, and that Jesus really liked hard-boiled eggs, and would the bunny find some and bring them to Jesus so he could eat them to get some energy for his trip to Heaven?  And the bunny did, and he brought some candy, too, because the disciples told the bunny that Jesus really liked Peeps, and the bunny just really liked Jesus and wanted to make him happy.  Now go tell your Mommy to come to my shop and buy some crap.”

Ditto all that idiocy for Santa Claus.  Though I do get the sort-of correlation to the holiday gift-giving and the story of the shepherds bringing gifts to the newborn babe in a manger.  

This is why the Fourth of July is my favorite holiday (and it was even before my baby boy was born on that day).  The only shit you see in the stores for this holiday is paper plates and beer napkins (and they take up about one shelf) because people just cook out.  That’s it.  They watch fireworks, salute the flag, eat big fat hot dogs and drink beer.  There are maybe two days of TV commercials for the neighborhood department store or local car dealer’s Blowout Fourth Sales, but that’s it.  The next day, it’s over, and you won’t find a leftover pack of paper plates anywhere. (Actually, at Garden Ridge they run out like a week BEFORE, which is just a scream considering that they have enough papasan chairs to seat the world.)  And my oldest child does not, when we’re at Target, ask me, ”Mom, I know you’re not gonna buy me this toy now, but can I put it on my July Fourth list?” 

I don’t know where I’d take the petition, but I AM going to lobby for a one-day combination holiday where every single one (except July 4th and my birthday!) is celebrated together, at once, on one day, with finality.  Or would that make the marketing worse?  Would it be a retail civil war if they were all fighting for holiday market share from the fruits of one day?  

If the Easter Bunny keeps getting the best of poor ‘ol St. Patty, it may come to that anyway.           

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Boston Warehouse Monkey Peeler

As I was wrestling the skin off a chimp the other day with a common kitchen paring knife I thought, “There must be a better way!” Fortunately for me, along came the Boston Warehouse Monkey Peeler, and now I’m peeling my monkeys in seconds flat. Thanks, Boston Warehouse!

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Ah, the family Christmas tree, lifting our holiday spirits with all of its pine-y goodness:

It’s real, and it’s spectacular

What’s this? I haven’t seen that ornament before. Must be a handmade one that one of the kids brought home from school. It looks like it might be a dove, or perhaps a melted snowman that was tipped over by those neighborhood hooligans. Damn teenagers.

Let’s get a closer look. What the fuck?

That, my friends, is a half-eaten quesadilla carefully placed in the tree just so, right about here (holding hand out at the height of a certain weirdo four-year-old). And here we were calling Jamie-Lynn Spears white trash. Mr. Pot, I believe you know Mr. Kettle? Lou Dobbs has already blamed this circumstance on our lax immigration laws.

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A feature in the local paper as well as witnessing a toddler last night being forced writhing and crying into Santa’s lap for a photo op inspired me to dig up this picture of what was surely the most frightening thing I experienced within my first 11 months on Earth (and which also may explain my love of mustard on hot dogs):

What’s odd is that this picture is clearly not at the mall and is at someone’s house… unfortunately there is no one remaining on my side of the family to ask, so the real identity of the Santa with the awesome watch shall remain a mystery.

Here’s a bit of info for those of you with wee tots terrified of Santa — they get over it the very second they can even vaguely comprehend that this fat guy in the velvet suit brings them tons of crap on Christmas Eve. Commercialism soothes the savage beast.

Anyone else have crying, screaming Santa pics of yourselves or your kids that you wish to share? You can email them my way and I’ll put them up, or include a link to it on Flickr, Photobucket, etc. in the comments below.

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Spotted this morning above the entrance to the local mall:

What the hell is this? DAY AFTER THANKSGIVING, people. Day after Thanksgiving is the first acceptable day for outdoor Christmas displays. At least Target has the goddamn sense to shove the x-mas stuff into the back corner of the store — past the Halloween decorations I might add — until the last doorbell chime of the trick-or-treaters has been rung.

UNACCEPTABLE, local mall. Try as you might, I officially refuse to be jolly or merry or bright until midnight on November 23. So TAKE THAT.

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As we start to enter the holiday season in full force, I want to take today to remember the person truly responsible for all the beautiful decorations, good cheer and presents exchanged at this glorious time of year, the person who…

Oops, I’m sorry, you probably think I’m talking about that guy who was born in September and whose birthday is celebrated on December 25th. No, sorry, being an atheist who participates in Christmas revelry solely for the pure joy of commercialism and twinkling lights, I’m referring to the man behind the myth, the legend, that’s right, please give a warm welcome to SINTERKLAAS AND HIS 6 TO 8 BLACK MEN!

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Happy St. Nicholas Day everybody!

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One of my fondest memories of Christmastime as a kid was not even close to Christmas Day, but rather around Thanksgiving — that was the time when the giant toy catalog would come in the mail. Upon its arrival, my task was to go through and find the toys I wanted and write them on a list to be sent to Santa Claus (c/o The North Pole). The catch was that I could only pick 10 finalists, of which Santa would peruse them and determine which one was to be America’s Next Top Toy.

At 6 years old this was one of the most important decisions of my life, and I put more thought into it than the Nobel Institute picking its prizewinners. I spent days sitting at the desk in my bedroom, poring over the catalog pages. I would frantically circle items, scratch others out, dog-ear corners, prioritize, and overflow my wastebasket with crumpled up piles of list rejects. After final deliberation, I would carefully fold the list and place it into its awaiting stamped and addressed envelope and finally emerge, weary and barely able to lift my arm and present the list to my mother. She would smile, put the envelope in her purse, and promise to drop it in the mail on her next trip outside. At the time, I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t just let me run down to the corner and do it myself.

I wanted to continue this tradition with my own children, but being the online addict that I am, I wanted to bring it into the modern day. So instead of a catalog, I sat them down in front of the computer and pulled up the Toys ‘R Us website. I showed them how to browse the different categories, and how to add items to their shopping cart. Just like my mom used to, I told them to think very hard and pick toys that they really, really wanted, and I would send the cart to Santa when they were done and he would pick the very best toys to bring them. Unlike my mom, however, I neglected to give them any sort of limit. Here was the result:

Does anyone know where I can get a good rate on a home equity loan?

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In a move that I naively thought was uniquely American, Reuters is reporting that a school in the heavily Catholic Spain is canceling Christmas.

MADRID (Reuters) - The Hilarion Gimeno school in Zaragoza said teachers had put forward various reasons for not celebrating Christmas, but ABC said the worry was that Muslim children might be upset.

That may be the best reason yet for us here in America to clearly draw the line between church and state in our schools — so we don’t upset the Muslims. Because they get angry. And you wouldn’t like them when they’re angry. A war on Christmas ain’t nothin’ compared to a jihad on Papa Noel.

Bill O’Reilly has already declared a boycott on tapas, sangria, and Penelope Cruz. King Carlos? You’re on notice.

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That is, unless you happen to be part of the Loma Linda Homeowners Association.

According to the Associated Press, the Loma Linda Homeowners Association in Pagosa Springs, Colorado is taking a zero tolerance approach when it comes to peace-loving holiday decor this year.

A homeowners association in southwestern Colorado has threatened to fine a resident $25 a day until she removes a Christmas wreath with a peace sign that some say is an anti-Iraq war protest or a symbol of Satan.

No, I am not making this up for good blog fodder. This is actually true.

Hard to believe though? I’d say so.

How anyone could take offense to the peace symbol is beyond me. I mean, I know that homeowners associations have the right to their rules -?‚? no matter how inane those rules may be -?‚? but let’s get real here for a second. This is a holiday garland in the form of a peace symbol. What are people going to take offense to next? Frosty the Snowman decorations?

Now, granted, there were only a few homeowners who complained. But the thought that anyone would complain completely befuddles me. And furthermore, the idea that a homeowner would be fined close to $1000 for?‚? hanging up a?‚? peace sign wreath because it’s “divisive”?‚? is just plain sad.

The article states that some of?‚? those who complained have children serving in Iraq and were offended by the peace symbol because they viewed it as an anti-war protest. Again, this befuddles me. Regardless of our stance on the war or whether or not we have relatives serving in Iraq, who doesn’t want peace? Besides,?‚? if my child were serving in Iraq, wouldn’t that make peace on Earth, and particularly in the Middle East, even more important? (On a side note, the woman facing charges has said that the peace sign was not politically motivated.)

I guess the whole thing is just another reminder to me of why I want to avoid homeowners associations. You may not have to worry about your neighbor painting his house purple, but you might?‚? have to start worrying a lot more about your Christmas decor. Because let’s face it, nothing says Satan like a peace-sign garland, right??‚?

?‚?

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For the sake of the future of this country, I’m hoping to holy hell that the reason that the new Playstation 3 is fetching more than what I paid for my first 3 cars combined is an over-abundance of geeky internet millionaires that have money to burn, and not because of an army of Veruca Salts stomping around shrieking, “I want a PS3 NOW, Daddy!” Or perhaps now that the Baby Boomers are starting to cash in their retirement accounts they are feeling generous towards the grandkids. I know this is unusual optimism coming from me, but with my work stress lately I’ve been trying to stay in my “happy place”.

While the vast majority of us can’t pay a 20x markup on a $500 gadget, I’m sure somewhere along the line many of you were overtaken by the shiny lure of commercialism and went a little overboard at Christmas, be it paying above retail, waiting in insane lines, or blowing right past the gift budget. My most recent extravagance was a couple years ago paying a stupid amount over retail on eBay for a Spongebob Krabby Patty Grill, which of course now sits collecting dust at the bottom of the toy box.

Anyone else? What’s your tale about the greatest lengths you went through to buy a gift?

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