Hallmark is on My List

Last night, I settled into bed to watch Candles on Bay Street. I was prepared for a bit of sappiness. It was a Hallmark Hall of Fame movie, after all. And they get me every time. By the beginning of Act 2, I was fighting back fits of sobs. I went through almost an entire box of tissues, and not one of those little back-of-the-toilet boxes, either.

But last night, it wasn't just the movie that got to me. During the commercial breaks, when I should have had a bit of a reprieve to pull myself together, the Hallmark bastards sideswiped me with more sugar-coated mushiness. Every commercial break had at least one sappy, tug-at-the-heart-strings advertisement prodding me to "send the very best."

I think it was all the father-daughter themes that had me in hysterics. And there's also the fact that, for some reason I haven't quite put my finger on but that I think is in some way related to my thunderously ticking biological clock, I've been super-sensitive the last few weeks. No matter the cause, Hallmark is officially on my shit list. They sucked me in, yet again, and got me all puffy-eyed and red-faced. I'm not sure what the marketing ploy behind all of this is, but I'll be darned if I'm going to fall for it. You can't make me cry and then expect me to buy! I'm all about American Greetings this holiday. Forget the very best; I'm buying the cheapest, funniest, non-emotional cards I can find from now on.

Hallmark, you won't make me cry anymore. We're through!

(*Note: Please do not hold me to this in the future...it's very likely I'll find an adorable Thank You, or the perfect Happy Birthday among the Hallmark selections and won't be able to resist. But right now, my inability to control my emotions finds me in need of placing the blame for my crying jags squarely in someone else's lap. Today, Hallmark get's the Gold Crown. Tomorrow, who knows?)