Merry Commercialism!

Christmas is coming and I find myself itching to buy brightly colored,shiny, tacky objects. I want to hang them around the house. I want to plug little lights in all over. I wander aisles is the grocery store and department stores like a stoned or demented person, captivated by the colors and the scents. I am not being sarcastic.

Christmas... I am scared of Christmas. A lot of mixed couples experience what has been termed the "December Dilemma". I was no exception. Christmas brought with it a turmoil of emotions. All the positive nostalgia, along with cross-cultural confusion, concern for my ex's sense of alienation, embarrassment over how tacky, commercialized, over-indulgent, and endless the holiday season can be, particularly for someone who doesn't have nostalgic childhood memories. All this made my relationship with Christmas a complicated one. It took me five years to get comfortable with it. Last year was the first year I was excited about Christmas. I was sure I had finally struck the balance and could make the most of a Christmas in Israel. I ended up in Utah at the last minute, too shaken by life and it's tricks to be able to even choose between two pairs of pajamas that I had received as gifts. It took me two days to realize I could just keep both pairs.

When we moved into this apartment, Lesha had boxes and boxes labeled decorations. "What is all this?" I asked. "It's all my Christmas junk," she said. "The whole time I was married people kept giving me all this crap I have to store somewhere. Don't you have this kind of stuff?"

"I was married to a Jewish guy."

"Oh, right. So, you've got a menorah and I've got six boxes of Christmas shit."

I am waiting to see what's in all those boxes before I indulge my desire to buy "Christmas shit". But I am already scouting.