The Grinch

I have cropped this image so that my brother does not kill me. I will just say that the original is far more revealing (or, um, far LESS revealing HAHAHAHAHAHAHA) and that he will probably want to stay on my good side for as long as I have this blog.

I am going to get this out of the way early. I am a grinch. There, I've said it. It's not that I hate Christmas, although that's an easy shorthand. I hate the commercialism of Christmas.

Every year in recent memory, my brothers and I have picked names and tried to get gifts for each other. Every year in recent memory, this has been a resounding failure, mainly because we have relied on my parents as intermediaries: "Mom, can you wrap this and put it under the tree for Ben?" Sometime in August, we realize that the never-wrapped DVD is still on Mom's coffee table. Clearly, this system does not work.

If Christmas was just about being nice to other people, I'd be all over it. Instead, we end up with a holiday that is all about forced frivolity and guilt because you have to buy gifts for near-strangers.

I am usually the recipient of gifts that only show how little the giver knows about me. Socks, for example. And deodorant. Perhaps this is a not-so-subtle message that my feet and armpits stink. But there is nothing more personal than a gift certificate to a store I don't shop at.

They say that people give the type of gifts they'd like to receive. I think this is probably true, judging from the things I've received over the years (giant knick-knack, anyone?). But I also think that people give gifts that are easy to buy without thinking just because they have a list of people who need gifts. Not a list of people who need stuff. A list of people who need gifts.

Please don't buy me stuff just because I'm a name on a list at a certain time of year. It would mean a lot more to me if you gave me a gift some other time in the year because you saw something that made you think of me. I can say that as a giver, it is much more satisfying to do this than to tick off names on a list.

However, I am not delusional enough to think that this will actually work. For easy reference, I am going to provide a list of things I don't need. Please don't buy me any of these things. If you think I want any of them, you obviously don't know me very well and therefore should feel no obligation to buy me gifts.

Smelly candles, particularly those carved in the shape of flowers
Powdered latte mix
Granny panties
Perfume
Lipstick
Teddy bears
Pedicure sets
Gardening tools
Christmas ornaments, particularly those that are available for purchase at dollar stores
Business-card holders
Slippers shaped like farm animals
Anything that you think would be a "charming keepsake"

If, after scanning this list, you cannot think of anything else to give me for Christmas, I hereby absolve you of any duty to give me a gift. And trust me, I'm already making plans to cross you off my list. I'm just a bitch that way. And a grinch.