merry chrysanthemum

Things I Hate About Christmas:

• The weather. South African midsummer is not only icky and sticky in its own right, it becomes absolutely ridiculous when everything burgeons forth in images of snow, robins and reindeer, and incredible amounts of hot, heavy food.
• Seething crowds of shoppers glazed with fury and determination to find a gift for Auntie Gladys that won't be incalculably tacky while costing the approximate equivalent of the National Debt of a small country.
• Religion. It's a pagan celebration, goddamit, where did all the Baby Jesus stuff come from? The Christian Christmas is an uncomfortable tug-of-war between Puritan guilt ("for all have sinned") and pagan self-indulgence, and consequently badly needs therapy. Given this split personality, all the political correctness is even more irritating. "Happy Christmas" actually means "Happy end-of-year contradictory festival, select meaning of your choice."
• The stranglehold that Family Obligations have on Christmas. I like my family, and like spending time with them, but I resent the way that Christmas comes complete with the baggage of Family Time as an unspoken assumption. Cussedness dictates that, even though I enjoy being with my family, I immediately want to be doing anything but.
• Syrupy carols in supermarkets and malls and everywhere else that can possibly be forced into carrying a tune.
• Christmas pudding. Also Christmas cake, mince pies and brandy butter. Ick.

Things I Like About Christmas:

• Wrapping presents. Wrapping whole stonking heaps of presents in shiny, crackly paper and ribbons. (Making Light has a nice how-to, btw).
• Putting Up Christmas Decorations, a gesture I have refined down to a concise act of irony. Take small (12cm) Christmas tree and dopey cat Christmas ornament out of box in bottom drawer. Place side-by-side on piano. Done.
• My mad sister's mad Christmas stocking fetish. There's an incredibly atavistic pleasure in waking up on Christmas day to find something heavy across one's toes, crackling and filled with knobbly, exciting shapes. One of those happy childhood memories, and a pleasantly regressive and illicit pleasure as an adult.
• Turkey stuffing.
• Loot.
• Saying "Bah, Humbug!" a lot.