It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year?

I never thought of myself as a Scrooge, or someone who hated people who loved Christmastime, because that's not at all how I see my reaction to December 25th and the dreadful days leading up to it. People say its the season of giving, which is great; I'm all about everyones high level of fake tolerance of one another one month out of the year. For the 26 years that I've been on Earth, I have yet to experience a holiday season that didn't make me want to rock in the fetal position while clutching a vat of bourbon. I just don't understand why there has to be so such stress involved. In all honesty, I would love to spend the day with my family talking and laughing. No gifts, no big feast, no drama. We're all alive and we're all together - that should be all that matters.

Unfortunately, I seem to be the only person out there who feels this way. To others, spending next month's rent money on gifts, crying over ruined assorted baked goods and stressing yourself out so badly that you land in the hospital practically every single year appears to be the only way others enjoy spending the holidays. It makes me giggle when these people claim that Christmas is all about lil baby Jesus and how we should honor his birth. I'm sure stuffing your face full of cookies and buying everyone useless crap makes Jesus feel warm and tingly inside. To each their own, right? I'd just rather be left out of that whole concept of fun.

This year is the second annual "Spending Christmas Alone with a Dog", and I am determined not to cry during this year's festivities. I've already started drinking, so I think I'm on a good path. Pineapple Orange juice mixed with Malibu rum might lead to me raping myself tonight, but I'll try to behave and learn that no means no. I digress. I googled "Christmas Blues" and I kept coming across all of these really lame pieces of advice, such as 'volunteer and listen to Christmas music really loud'. So, in order to fight off the devastating side affects of seasonal affective disorder, I have come up with a realistic list of things to do to occupy my mind:

1. Drink. Heavily.

2. Open up 12 bottles of nail polish, (to signify each day of Christmas of course), and start making my own nail polish color. Really, what we're aiming to do is get high off the fumes, so when it mixes with the heavy drinking, I'll pass out into a blissful slumber.

3. Watch Bad Santa after waking from the toxin induced nap

4. Eat an entire can of vanilla frosting - if no one is around to witness it, it never really happened

5. Enjoy a nice poop

6. Gorge on bad Virginia chinese food

7. Enjoy another poop

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to mix myself another rape cocktail. Happy Festivus.