Even I know when enough is enough!
I am addicted to very few things. None of which are illegal, but that doesn't make them any less disturbing. I adore Buffy. I love handbags. Red lipstick constitutes a passion. But the most worrying addiction of all I think is my unnatural reverence for Christmas.
I revel in all parts of the holiday season. I love the decorations and lights. I adore the wrapping of presents. But, most of all, I love the music. I listen to Christmas music year round. It lifts a mood, it imbues a sense of good cheer and attempts to capture some of that magical time leading up to Christmas time. Christmas morning I always find myself feeling a little flat. Reality seems to fall short of the romanticised mark that I have setup in my mind. My imagined Christmas is Capra-esque in spirit, with chilly weather and warm hearts. An enormous tree laden with lights and decorations is the ideal in my mind, with stockings and presents for all.
I really don't know where my notion of the ideal Christmas came from. One too many Christmas television specials from northern hemispheres perhaps? Christmas reality has in fact often been bereft of any of the romance I imagine. Tacky trees and decorations, meager presents, and sweltering days of sunshine.
So now with the festive season upon us I once again start playing Christmas carols. I sing joyously of snow-laden days and mangers in far-off lands. My imagined halls are decked and my nights are ever silent and holy.
But I do have my limits. I am always on the lookout for yet another Christmas CD -
over 300 songs on the iPod devoted to Christmas and counting. But NOTHING will lower me to ever purchase the David Hasselhoff Christmas CD. A girl has got to have standards!