Thankfulness in Fruitlessness

Ah Thanksgiving, the only holiday where we claim we’re thankful, and then spend the next few days literally killing people to get more stuff we want.

It’s the American way! Whoo!

When you’re jobless, the sales and bargains don’t apply to you because you’re already thankful for what you have you can’t afford anything anyways.

So, naturally, one has to get creative as to what to be thankful for.

It’s the simple things, really. And, yes, before MaterBaconia and LavaGirl and assorted friends, family members, and talking sinks start yelling at me: Yes. I am supremely, and very very VERY thankful for each and every one of you. You’ve molded me into the (psychotic) person I am, and you keep me going.

Thank you for being who you are, and for helping me figure out who I am.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

The Hall(mark) of Horrors

As the holidays approach, there’s many things to look forward to.  Cookies, decorations, Santa, food, presents; all these things just bring out the awesomeness of Christmas.

But there’s a dark side to this, as well, and any guy who’s been in a relationship before knows there are certain obligations. And these include, amongst other things, watching Christmas movies.

… specifically, watching Hallmark Christmas movies.

Know Thy Enemy

"What's a Hallmark movie?" you ask, stepping off from the plane you took from your native North Korea after hours of customs processing and hiding from the secret police. IT IS THE BANE OF YOUR MANLY, LOGICAL EXISTENCE. 

Every Hallmark movie I've seen (and, with 5 sisters, a fiancée, and a LavaMom who LOVES that satanic channel, I've seen too many THE HORRORS OF WAR), has had the following prognosis:

Middle Aged Female Protagonist's life is going sooooo well for the first 15 minutes. Then, it all turns to shit and she ends up alone (divorce, separation, or her 14 cats all died of dysentery). The next FIVE HOURS are then devoted to her finding a friend and working herself back up to an even better position than when the movie began, through a series of way-too-good-to-ever-happen-in-reality events. All the while, no matter what, you are perfectly clean, well dressed, and considered attractive by your alternate-universe's social standards. And, at some point, the SuperRichAndGoodLookingGuy™ magically becomes attracted to you. Of course, 3 hours of the courtship revolves around how "it'd never work." At the end of the movie, Middle Aged Female Protagonist is now happily planning her wedding to SuperRichAndGoodLookingGuy and everyone loves her so much and SHE GOT TO BECOME AN ARTIST LIKE SHE ALWAYS WANTED. YAY.

... oh, and it's all produced on a budget the size of my monthly allowance. (read as: 15¢)

Over the years being tortured by this shit, it’s become clear to me that there is a pattern that occurs every time a Hallmark movie comes on. 

Interestingly enough, it’s the Stages of Grief.

Stage 1: Denial

"Oh no, we can't *possibly* be actually watching this," you think. These movies are terrible. Surely she knows that! She MUST be just flipping channels...

Stage 2: Anger

You rise up from your seat, dazed, confused, and angry. YOU THOUGHT SHE LOVED YOU. Or at least liked you enough to NOT subject you to the terror that is a Hallmark Christmas movie. That level of cheese is dangerous to one's health.

Stage 3: Bargaining

You frantically search for excuses, reasons why, and favors you can do in order to avoid your fate. 

Stage 4: Depression

You have run out of options. It's all over and you know it. You will be forced to go through this.

Stage 5: Acceptance

You've been hypnotized into a mindless shell of your former self. You have no identity, no wants or desires outside of the fatal case of Hallmarkitis. Your personality has melted into a formless glob of cheese. You're a Hallmark Zombie.

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