Traditionally, this is supposed to be the greatest time of year. My dad has gone crazy decorating the house and my mom has made about 200 Christmas cookies. It’s all supposed to feel good, be good. I haven’t had an urge to watch my favorite holiday movies because I just don’t feel it. I haven’t wanted to sing along to “Christmas” and watch Christmas with the Kranks over and over to the point where it drives my parents insane. Or dress my little dog up in holiday sweaters. I haven’t felt the need to blog about that one perfect gift, because I feel like gifts really aren’t the things people need. It’s like when the Plaza shut down, and Eloise’s famous hotel wasn’t as special. On Christmas Eve I used to watch her, running around and become immediately enthralled for Christmas morning. I feel like I have to replay that one song on the Aly and A.J. Acoustic Hearts of Winter album, “Not This Year.” Normally, I would be skipping over it, or too happy to care and just sing along anyways. I try reading The Secret, but even reading which would normally send me into another world just puts me into this unbearable state in mine. The death, the sickness of loved ones and myself, the misery that has come from all of these tragedies, and then that constant stray thought that the polar bears are not cold enough and could float away and become extinct. And then there’s the fact that there’s no snow, a constant reminder that our world is changing and not for the better. So how does one get into the Christmas spirit? Can it not be saved? Is there anything that could bring the magic back or are we going to have pray for a good one next year? Why is it that we’re all feeling worse than the teddy bears on the Island of Misfit Toys? I just find myself saying too much, “not this year.”
Bootsie 