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2003-12-18 - 5:55 p.m. Around the first of November every year I start getting an itch. It probably is triggered by the massive amounts of Christmas marketing bombarding my senses. The onslaught of holly and tinsel and red and green everywhere starts getting my juices flowing. I start daydreaming and wondering, "Would she like that?" and "Who can I give this to?" You're thinking I can't wait to go shopping, aren't you? Wrong. My compulsion is to craft. That's right, craft. For some strange reason, I don't consider it Christmas unless everyone gets something handmade by me. Trying to go out and buy the perfect present that is a combination of someone's unrecognized wants and needs that makes them tear up when they receive it is not enough for me. I have to say I made the gift as well. Yes, I put a lot of pressure on myself, because not only do I have to make gifts, I have to make an original gift for every member of my family. I thought that taking up knitting would help with this compulsion, but I'm not a very persistent knitter-I give up very easily when stumped. I'm also a procrastinator in the worst kind of way. This year I am making non-electric heating pads for several friends and relatives, knitting a scarf for my mom, knitting felted clogs for my sister-which is actually her present from last year that I haven't finished yet, and making fizzy bath bombs for anyone whom I have forgotten. All of these things can be purchased easily and inexpensively, but my twisted brain doesn't think it is nearly as impressive to just buy presents. Oh and the piece-de-resistance is the homemade eclairs with from scratch pastry cream that I am making for my husband. At least my son is going to help with those. The moral of this entry is this: Martha Stewart is a bad, bad lady. She has singlehandedly ruined the crass commercialism that used to be Christmas for me and now turned it into a show-off effort for my lame attempts at domestication. Aargh!
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