Cranky Christmas greetings

Baah Humbug! There I got it out. It's been roiling up inside of me for weeks and furthermore I feel as a Jew it's perfectly acceptable language. After all only eight days in December are designated to me and quite honestly it's hard to keep track of when they start and end. On top of that I don't have the necessary items to actually celebrate Hanukah, or is it spelled "Chanukah"? For starters I don't have a menorah (again the spelling is just impossible), a dradel, the special menorah candles ( birthday candles do not fit in the holders, and fyi I don't have those either), or whatever the celebratory food is and I'm certain it's not matzo (sp?). See how easy it is to get the holiday crankiness going? And forget the eight gifts. How do you get a present a day to another Jew ? This can be a logistical nightmare. My nephew had a Hanukah party and invited "some local Jews" he said. Maybe this is a solution, just post a sign in the neighborhood and see who shows up. He's a clever boy. I for one decided I needed to get some rest and do some breathing exercises before the pressure of "Secret Santa" weeks began.

This Christmas game was a complete mystery to me until I moved my horse to a friendly stable where it was a holiday ritual amongst the boarders. I'm miffed by rituals . I'm not sure they're ever really fun, just habitual. I needed a stocking for my horse's stall door just to get started. Ouch. I'm stumped already. I want to make it clear that my flimsy cheap stocking in no way reflects how I feel about my horse. Secret Santa starts weeks before Christmas and with each passing day my stress level escalates. Now granted we have "guidelines" but guidelines are for loosers aren't they?! We randomly draw from a hat the name of the person whose Secret Santa we will be. There's no trading allowed or even whispering about who you've picked. It's a very hush hush operation even to the point of sneaking presents into stockings so as not to reveal your Santa identity. A bit Watergate, Deep Throat-esque. The gift pace is furious for me , approximately two or three small gifts a week which culminates in a Christmas party where we reveal our Santaness and hand over a final big gift. Whew! I for one would like my Secret Santa to place a vial of Xanax in my stocking right away.

For the three weeks leading up to the party I'm a wreck. Oh my God, it's Thursday and I don't have small gifts! I'm frantic and run up and down the aisles of Dominicks . Is Pepto Bismol inappropriate? It's a nice pink. How about a ham? It's good and not something you always buy for yourself. I dash through the mall in and out of stores, flinging small items into shopping baskets. I can't get behind, I'm a competitor, I have to get ahead. I'm going to buy for next year and the year after. Maybe even the year after that. I'm exhausted, but there's no stopping me. I have so many small gifts in my car I can't see the road.

Tomorrow is the party, I feel relief is on the horizon. No more shopping, no more sneaking around, no more thoughts of Santa suicide. I have my big gift wrapped and ready to hand over (it's not a ham). I survived rash free, no nervous twitching, no nail biting to speak of, my eyes are a little bloodshot ,but regardless I pretty much lived up to the Secret Santa code of ethics. I am however, reconsidering Hanukah.