Friday, December 10, 2004

Blue Christmas

I'm filling in this afternoon at my friend's company - I worked there this summer for about a month and they bring me in every once in a while when they need someone to cover the front desk. Anyway, they're having their office Holiday Party today and the halls are all decked out in holiday spirit. When I got in, the receptionist had a CD of Elvis Christmas songs playing on repeat. Now I'm not someone who hates Christmas, and I have to admit that I enjoy hearing Blue Christmas, purely for the camp value, but after I heard that, hearing Elvis drone, "Santa, bring my baby back to me..." made me want to vomit. Something about the combination of 50s era phoniness and commercialized, sickly-sweet holiday sentiment are just too much for me to take. It's like emotional heroin -- let me warm up my veins so I can do another hit of jolly holidays. Something about Christmas songs being played over and over and over again... if I just keep listening to songs about Rudolf and eight maids a milking, I won't have to actually feel anything real.

Maybe this wouldn't be hitting my gag-reflex so hard if I hadn't walked into the grocery store and been surrounded by Christmas stuff back in October. I'm all for celebrating, I'm all for holiday cheer, I just don't like being force fed.


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