I put all my Christmas cd’s in the stereo. I’m ready to begin.

I love this time of year above all others. The anticipation, the lists, the planning, the opening of boxes to see decorations and ornaments I’ve seen at this time of year and no other, for nearly thirty years. Last night after all the Thanksgiving dishes were done, I got out my Christmas dishes and glassware, and put the autumn dishes in their place, in that hard-to-reach cabinet above the stove where the Christmas dishes live all year.

Did you know that the seasons are not capitalized? This bothers me a lot. “Monday,” yes. “November,” yes. But “autumn, winter, spring, or summer?” No. Unless they are the first word in the sentence, of course, but I’m tired of grammar lessons during vacation so I’ll stop now.

Oh, oh, the Trans-Siberian Orchestra!!! I must run into the dining room and crank the volume up to eleven!!!!!!

I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving, and I hope you are all anticipating the next holiday, MY FAVORITE ONE, as much as I am. And if you’re not, well, have a wonderful time enduring other people’s enjoyment of it, anyway. If you want to celebrate Unholy Yearly Curmudgeon Solstice Wintertime Blues, go right ahead and you’ll hear nary a complaint from me. I expect the same from you about my holidays. I promise not to laugh when you tell me about your family celebratory dinner of roast venison, shot down out-of-season and therefore EXTRA yummy, and your tradition of finding bb’s in the meat and flicking them across the tablecloth at each other while singing songs about how other people’s religions and beliefs are evil while your own is the ONE. I won’t even giggle when you describe your annual Sacrificial Snowman ritual, and how it represents the fragility of mankind.

Yes, I will. Sorry. Frosty-killers.

Hub wanted to check out WalMart today and I laughed in his face. I am not a bargain-stalker. I don’t even shop in stores, except for groceries, these days, well, not much. I do almost everything online. No lines, no fuss, and a LOT of great deals.

I can’t offhand think of a single thing that would make me want to stand in a line that spirals around the store three times and requires guards to keep the nasty people from trying to cut. Nope, not a single thing.

But whenever I read about people who’ve been standing in line for a long time who gang up on a ‘linecutter’ and beat the shit* out of them, I smile.

*I meant to say “tar.”**

**No, I didn’t.

People who cut the line are scum. They were scum in sixth grade when they cut the lunch line and those selfsame people are still scum now that they’re in their early thirties and cut the WalMart Day-After Sale line because Bubby and Misti Dawn HAD to have that toy/electronic device/video game deck/limited-quantity Bert doll (he’s the one who looks like a dildo with a face) or else their Christmas would be RUINED and don’t we all UNDERSTAND THAT KIND OF PRESSURE that a mother feels when she thinks of her spoiled rotten whiny ankle-biters precious little children on Christmas morning with SOMETHING ELSE under the tree which of course means no happy smiles for the video camera and the internet? We MUST HAVE the current Playstation and an Elmo who reproduces asexually (it’s for small children, you know) whilst giggling and linedancing. What is Christmas all about, anyway???

I don’t think those kind of parents even know.

I do apologize for perhaps stepping out of the character you thought you knew, but sometimes it all gets to me.

My wholesome image is shot now, isn’t it.*** Crap.

*** It was a matter of time.

I blame those footprints on the moon.