Katie Pumpkinhead’s Pumpkin Patch

For all my indifference toward the Christmas season, there is one thing I always have to do every year, to keep a lifelong tradition alive: Watch Disney’s Very Merry Christmas Songs , a sing-along video that I watched for the first time when I was two, and have consistently watched via my original VHS, a DVD version with some more modern bits added, or this YouTube video, at least once a year since. Somehow Christmas songs just sound different coming from this video, and it’s literally the one tradition I still have any control over. This year’s annual viewing took place on the afternoon of December 23rd, and I noticed a suggested video when I was done: An animated special from 1982, The Snowman. I’m not sure how many people will remember The Snowman, as it didn’t seem to catch on in the US quite like it did in the UK, and I don’t have any real memory of it consistently airing beyond the early 90s. I remember seeing it once when I was very little, then again a few years later when I wa

 I feel like I've been doing a lot of talking about Christmas this year, and I swear it's really not me trying to be "salty" about it, as the kids say. (Do they still say that?) I've just been reflecting a lot this year and find that I have a lot of thoughts and feelings. Just yesterday, I got the bug to wrap the small amount of gifts I currently have on-hand, and for nostalgia's sake, decided to play a few songs from my childhood Christmas gift-wrapping soundtracks, A Rosie Christmas and Another Rosie Christmas.  After about four songs, I was over it. I stuck the gifts under the tree (which for the record was put up by my roommate, before anyone comes at me for lying about my indifference toward Christmas in order to seem spookier) and soon after retired to watch Trick 'r Treat.   There was a part of me, though, that felt sad I couldn't maintain that teeny burst of holiday spirit a little while longer. I started questioning why, and, along with my usu

 Hang onto your pumpkins, boils and ghouls, because today I'm about to do the unthinkable: Today I'm going to share with you the story of a Christmas memory! If you know me at all, you know that I have extremely vivid memories of just about every Halloween I've ever experienced. I could probably, if I put my mind to it, remember every thought I've ever had about Halloween, in vivid detail. However, even despite the fact that I actually did love it at one point, this is not the case when it comes to Christmas.  I remember the feeling of my childhood Christmases. I remember traditions and that childhood excitement. I remember how the day felt, how the decorations looked, the feeling of believing in Santa and the emptiness of that belief going away. But, for the most part, I really don't remember specifics.  There's nothing about any one particular day or year that stands out to me. Except for one thing. My only vivid, and in my eyes, very amusing, childhood Christ

 I often hear songs at work about wishing every day could be Christmas. This is, obviously, something I myself do not wish.  Upon hearing one of these songs a few days ago, I couldn't stop myself from saying out loud, "Why would anyone want to perpetually live in the most stressful, expensive, insane time of the year?" To which my coworker responded that they were most likely talking about the "spirit" of Christmas, caring and giving and all that. Yes, most likely, this is what these songs are referring to. But, perhaps it's due to my retail worker status, or maybe I'm just a cynical person, but to be honest? I don't truly see that spirit in much of anyone.  And I started thinking, after that conversation, about when I actually do see acceptance and a sense of community come into play in the world. And that time, at least in my eyes, is Halloween. As far as I'm concerned, Christmas is a lot of talk and not a lot of action...or rather, the action

 Okay, so, today we’re going to be talking about Christmas.  No, I’m not about to make some grand seasonal switch as to what holiday I’m obsessed with. On the contrary, actually. Due to the constant invalidation of my feelings toward this time of year, and constant passive-aggressive statements eluding to me being some kind of “pick me girl” for staying so faithful to Halloween, I’ve decided I just want to straight-up talk about how Christmas changed for me, in detail, and why it makes me feel, or doesn’t make me feel, the way it does now. It will probably help to get this all off my chest, even if no one reads it. Though I do hope someone out there may find comfort in it in some way. I suppose you could say my descent into Grinchdom began the summer before I started middle school. Prior to this time, I was, more or less, the epitome of the “tiny tot with their eyes all aglow”, who “finds it hard to sleep” on Christmas Eve. No, Christmas was never my favorite holiday, but the excitemen

 I have long referred to November as my least favorite month. I have said the words "I hate November" more times than I could ever possibly count. The year I was fourteen, I drew dark, defiant Xs through the Os in the month's name on every calendar or day planner that I came into contact with. One year I even referred to it as "NOPEvember" throughout the month. How DARE November exist?! I used to say to myself. How DARE such a miserable month come along and try to follow Halloween and October? Yes, it's devastating when Halloween ends. Yes, I think it adds insult to injury that we're already in an entirely different month the second Halloween passes.  But November is not the enemy. I've realized, in my adult years, as time has gone on, that November is actually an important time. November is an ally. November is the time when fall fights for its life. Though "spooky season" (I'm actually really starting to hate that term.) is deemed ove