Merry $*&#%@* Christmas

This could really be the Christmas season where I decide to bag it and drop out of the entire festive scene. Thanksgiving is less than two weeks away and I can't work up even an ounce of enthusiasm for what's coming.
Teenzilla and I have already received an invitation to a Mother/Daughter Christmas cookie exchange. I don't want to go...there, I admitted it. Christmas cookie swaps are a pain in the butt. I don't need the added aggravation of having to make eight dozen cookies that I will swap with an undetermined amount of other people who I probably don't even know. The outcome will be more than enough mediocre cookies to last until the Easter season.
Wow. I really am bitter. I've even managed to outbitter my usual quasi-grouchy, sarcastic personality.
Right now, and I know there are still several weeks to deal with this, but the thought of dragging out the Christmas decorations, buying presents (although that's pretty much limited to the children in my life), buying a tree, and going to parties is something I could easily do without this year.
The worst part of decorating, for me, is putting those freaking lights on the tree. In our house, we have very high ceilings and could go as high as ten to fifteen feet for a tree. But guess who usually gets stuck stringing the lights? Yep, that would be me, so I prefer nothing higher than seven or eight feet.
And one year, should my mood about these things improve, I would love to have a Martha Stewart-esque, themed tree. A tree that screams, 'look, I have a matching color scheme, I have some rhyme, some reason.' Instead, the typical Christmas tree in our house usually looks like a mad dash to see how many ornaments can be crammed onto the branches. Sometimes most of the lights actually work. The angel on top is always leaning at a 45 degree angle. I'm waiting for the year it finally decides to end it's agony and take a freefall to the hardwood floor.
But I seem to be getting off topic here...I really just wanted to bitch about the cookie exchange. Look, here's the thing, I guess making eight dozen cookies isn't the major complaint...I don't want to bring home the dozens of other cookies provided by the other guests. There is no need for all of those empty calories. If I'm going to be bad, let me be bad with a nice, buttery Chardonnay, thank you!
Maybe this will be the year I kick off the Christmas Booze Exchange. Just a thought.