I’m not a Christmas person.
It’s not that I’m anti-Christmas. And I’ve participated in my share of Christmas programs, pageants, and presents. I have. I have read and written scripts, shopped early and late, laughed and cried, eaten and served.
But the holiday is so wrapped with expectations that I am no longer a Christmas person. Expectations of delight, expectations of surprise, expectations that the perfect gift will elicit as much wonder in the recipient as it did in the mind of the maker/shopper/wrapper. Expectations that this year, everything will be different.
I wish I had no idea what I mean. I wish I didn’t live in a world of broken marriages and broken hearts. I wish I didn’t live in a world where the toy that looked amazing on television is actually a balloon, a world where the actors laughing around the Christmas table actually knew each other. I…
Bright, shiny objects! 
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