WARNING: The following post is a rant. Do not take it personally. I love you dearly, my dearly beloveds. I love making gifts -- and I enjoyed making yours, in particular. May your homes be filled with warmth and apple cinnamon spice. Bless you.
It's only Dec. 1, but it feels like Christmas Eve. Parties, crafts, shopping and all of the normal day-to-day chaos -- running after two small children, nagging my husband, cursing my mother's email about the top seven "superfoods" guaranteed to keep you bright and sparkly until the FDA labels them carcinogenic and suggests we eat cardboard.
I'm a bit of a party poop this evening, because it's that time of year when I dig out my artist's cap and get busy making Christmas presents for my dearly beloveds, who I'd happily shop for if I had any money.
I hear folks complain about capitalism and useless merchandise and corporate monsters and blah, blah, blah. The alternative -- homemade Christmas -- is a pain in the ass. I have two weeks to make a dozen-plus gifts, wrap them and ship them. And it's not like my life makes time for all of this. I have to squeeze gift making into the spots where I do selfish "me" things like writing and reading.
I honestly adore making things for people -- the production isn't my problem. It's the common pairing of "simple and homemade" that bunched my panties up my ass, because there's nothing simple about homemade anything. I don't care if you're Martha F***ing Stewart. Simple is going to the mall and handing over your credit card some 15 or 20 times and answering "Yes" when the salesperson asks "Would you like this gift wrapped?"
Don't degrade my efforts by calling them simple.
Whoever decided that homemade is sweet and easy can kiss my ass.
I'm a bit of a party poop this evening, because it's that time of year when I dig out my artist's cap and get busy making Christmas presents for my dearly beloveds, who I'd happily shop for if I had any money.
I hear folks complain about capitalism and useless merchandise and corporate monsters and blah, blah, blah. The alternative -- homemade Christmas -- is a pain in the ass. I have two weeks to make a dozen-plus gifts, wrap them and ship them. And it's not like my life makes time for all of this. I have to squeeze gift making into the spots where I do selfish "me" things like writing and reading.
I honestly adore making things for people -- the production isn't my problem. It's the common pairing of "simple and homemade" that bunched my panties up my ass, because there's nothing simple about homemade anything. I don't care if you're Martha F***ing Stewart. Simple is going to the mall and handing over your credit card some 15 or 20 times and answering "Yes" when the salesperson asks "Would you like this gift wrapped?"
Don't degrade my efforts by calling them simple.
Whoever decided that homemade is sweet and easy can kiss my ass.
The holidays are gone and forgotten. The packages are all unwrapped and everything has been put away. I really can't remember most of the gifts ....except those homemade ones from the people who cared enough to make them.
ReplyDeleteJust eat those superfoods and it will all be so simple!!