why we love hallmark christmas movies

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Christmas - it’s the most wonderful time of the year, as the song goes. People love this holiday for so many reasons and there are a multitude of things to love about Christmas.  Time with family, parties with friends, the food, the fun, the laughter, the merriment, and don’t forget the promise of our sins forgiven through the birth of the Savior. Literally, thank you Jesus! 

Christmas also brings its share of downers too, the stress of gift buying, the anxiety of social and family gatherings, those credit card bills. It’s no wonder we sometimes need an escape, a distraction, a little guilty pleasure to lift our spirits, often when no one else is watching. I’m not talking about the liquor nips hidden in your purse. Of course I’m talking about Hallmark Holiday movies. 

We all know these movies are terrible but deep down we still can’t help but love them. Perhaps it’s the idyllic scenery. There’s always a charming, picturesque small town perfectly decorated for Christmas, pure white snow on the ground. Twinkling lights, matching the sparkle in the eyes of the heroine when she finally gets to kiss her dream man against the backdrop of wreaths, bows and evergreen trees. 

Perhaps it’s the wardrobe. The leading lady with her beautiful blow-out and dewy make-up, the handsome leading man with a thick head of hair, not looking a bit ridiculous at all in the holiday turtleneck showcasing his broad shoulders. It’s like an amalgamation of all the winning couples from The Bachelor, all grown up and mature and having important jobs like publicist, best-selling author, lawyer and bakery owner. 

Or maybe it’s the love story. These movies almost always feature a woman returning home from the big city to find herself, and she either bumps into her first love at a class reunion, or finds a new one in the form of the handyman working at her newly-inherited family Bed and Breakfast. Either way, there’s some playful flirting, denial, light comical mishaps, and ultimately true love prevails, sealed with a very dramatic kiss. My son points out that usually some other guy gets broken up with off in the distance, but we dismiss it with a brief “he had it coming” thought as we get swept up in the excitement of the new (or rekindled) romance. 

I suppose it’s all those things together, creating an atmosphere of both nostalgia and excitement. That first feeling of falling in love that you hope never dims with time. The promise of a new beginning. The comfort of home. Hope. 

So go ahead and watch them, watch all of them. No one is looking (but they’re watching too). 

OK, I admit it. I love reality television. Bachelor in Paradise, The Circle, Survivor...it’s all great. But my favorites are the Bravo shows, specifically the Real Housewives franchise. I call it “pretty rich people with problems.” 

If you’re with me, you know how over-the-top these shows can be.  You see these women living fabulous lives, wearing designer clothes, dripping in fancy jewelry, traveling first class to exotic places, driving expensive cars...and you wonder, what could they possibly have to complain and fight about?  Turns out, plenty. Rumors about cheating spouses, fights with siblings, epic hangovers, battles over who gets the best room in the luxury villa they’re all staying at on vacation. Sigh. 

I love these shows because they are nothing like my real life. I shop at Marshall’s, make my own lunch every day, and holiday within driving distance at a reasonable Airbnb. I still like watching all that glitz, luxury and glamour of the Housewives. It’s total escapism, a guilty pleasure. 

I also enjoy reading the gossip about these ladies in real life. As it turns out, the line between fantasy and reality seems to affect them quite a bit as well. Over the years, so many of these women make headlines for exaggerating their wealth. Turns out many of those gorgeous mansions are just rentals. Several of them have had real money problems - tax evasion, lawsuits, bankruptcy filings. The luxe lives I’ve been watching are nothing more than a facade. 

The drama surrounding some of the seemingly wealthiest women on these shows has gone over-the-top in real life lately.  Jen Shah of the Utah franchise, who described herself as a hardworking and successful business woman, has been indicted for a scheme that exploits the elderly and disadvantaged. Erika Jayne, the queen of Beverly Hills with the traveling glam squad, is divorcing her husband under accusations that they’ve been stealing money from clients to fund their ridiculously opulent lifestyle. 

In contrast, I’ve been trying a different approach, devouring books about the Scandinavian lifestyle philosophy.  The Swedish call it Lagom. The Dutch call it Hygge. The Finnish call it Sisu. The principal is basically the same:  less is more. 

Scandinavians enjoy the simple life. They prefer bikes to cars, embrace the beauty of nature in every season, and consider luxury to be curling up under a cozy blanket in front of a roaring fire with a good book and cup of cocoa. Materialism is not something to aspire to, and stoicism rules. In return, they are some of the happiest people in the world. 

Being an American, I’m easily seduced by consumerism and the whole “keeping up with the Joneses” philosophy. Of course I still dream about having a summer house on Nantucket and being able to afford designer handbags. But if those things are not in the cards, I’m okay with it. Family, friends and good health are the true riches in life. If watching “The Real Housewives” has taught me anything, it’s that I’m happy with my life just the way it is. I wouldn’t trade places with any of these women for all the money in the world. 

They are still fun to watch, though. 

The term BFF (Best Friend Forever) gets thrown around very loosely these days. It’s become a a bit of a cliche. Many of us have more than one best friend, which kind of defeats the purpose of the term. As I’ve grown older, it’s got me thinking. 

I am blessed to have so many wonderful girlfriends, which I think is so important in a woman’s life. If a woman says she gets along better with men than women , I’m immediately a little suspect. I just think to myself:   she hasn’t met the right women yet. 

I meet so many women that I just form an instant bond with and that person becomes my friend for life.  But I only have one real, true BFF.  That person is Karen McCauley. 

Karen and I met in Mr. Quinlan’s sixth grade class and I was instantly drawn to her. I can’t even explain it - maybe it was love at first sight if you believe in that sort of thing. At any rate, we just hit it off right away and before I knew it, we were doing everything together, and having the best time ever doing it. 

We became inseparable and never tired of each other’s company. I found myself spending nearly every weekend sleeping over her house, which was much different than mine. 

Karen was the only girl in a family of six kids, and she had three older brothers, and two little brothers. Her house was full of life and noise, they were always on the go, and it was chaotic in the best way. In contrast I had one sister, and our tiny television was all the way down in the basement. There was hardly any noise, and certainly no rambunctious boys running around. I found myself drawn to the hustle and bustle of the McCauley household. I instantly wanted to be part of the family, and that’s just what happened. 

Her parents Jim and Evelyn became like a second set of parents, her brothers treated me just like a sister. They teased me and gave me nicknames. Her parents gave me chores to do. Karen and I slept side by side in a twin bed and it felt like the most normal thing in the world. On Sunday mornings her father would come home from his overnight shift in the city with a huge bag of bagels and brownies.  We would warm the brownies in the oven while eating toasted bagels with cream cheese and butter.  Best breakfast ever. 

Karen and I did a lot of firsts together.  Our first jobs as volunteer ushers at the local playhouse. Our first paying jobs as candy girls at the local cinema. Our first Broadway play. Our first boyfriends. Our first girls vacation. Our first taste of alcohol. Our first college party (we were still in high school). I experienced all the joys and surprises of growing up with my best friend by my side. Life was good. 

Of course, we weren’t always together. We went to different colleges, our first time apart. It was strange to not have Karen within arms’ length at all times, but somehow, life goes on. When we were home for Thanksgiving and Christmas and summer, it was like time stood still and we picked up right where we left off. We didn’t miss a beat. 

After college we went on a grand adventure together and moved to Atlanta. We had no jobs, no money and no place to live. Somehow we found our way. Soon we had our first apartment together, with a single piece of furniture:  an air mattress from Target. 

We were so proud of ourselves when we bought the air mattress (split 50/50) and tried to blow it up by mouth when we got it home. Naturally that didn’t work but it did provide plenty of laughs at the attempt. So we drove a half mile from our apartment complex to fill it up at the local gas station. We had no idea what we were doing so we filled it up from the free air tire machine and then realized we couldn’t fit it in the car. We had nothing to tie it to the roof so Karen drove home at a snail’s pace while we each hung an arm out the window and clung to it to keep it from flying off the roof. People drove by honking at us and shouting obscenities. But we were too busy laughing, tears streaming down our faces. 

“Don’t let go, don’t let go!” cried Karen between gulps of laughter. 

That air mattress became our third roommate.  We slept on it at night in the bedroom and then dragged it out to the living room in the morning to eat breakfast on it. We ate dinner on it and watched TV (from the floor) on it. The air mattress became our bed, our sofa, and our dining room table. We loved it and didn’t need anything else. 

Time has a cruel way of marching on. In the blink of an eye, Karen married our next-door neighbor Anthony and they moved back up North to Massachusetts to start a family and begin their life together. I was distraught and immediately began figuring out a way to move back up so I could be close to her again, despite the fact that I was also married and living a full life down in Atlanta. Turns out that nothing is impossible, as before I knew it, I was living just a few towns away from her. 

When my marriage fell apart, Karen was there for me. She helped me search for apartments after work and on a snowy day in January, we rented a U-Haul and the two of us moved me into my new place. Within a few years, I was married again and Karen and I were both raising sons. I thought we would raise our boys side-by-side, just as we’d handled all of life’s milestones, but sometimes life gets in the way. Work and family obligations kept us largely apart, although we always found time to connect. 

Now, on the eve of Karen turning 50, I can’t help but wonder where the time has gone. We started off as innocent 11-year-olds in Mr. Quinlan’s class, spending every waking moment together and dreaming about what the future would be, and here we are, in middle-age, with our children practically grown and retirement looming in the not-so-distant horizon. 

To be truthful, I can hardly believe it. It all happened so fast. 

When I sit in front of the computer reflecting, there are simply too many wonderful memories to put on paper. I could fill a whole novel with our antics and coming-of-age stories. I think we had a fight or two in our day, but I don’t remember those. I only remember the good times, and those are in the millions. My mind is a blur of emotions and memories. 

Jacki’s Dance Factory, Mookie Wilson and Gary Carter, space trolley, Candlewood Playhouse, VECA, Dirty Dancing, potato knishes with mustard, Form a Horseshoe

Over the years we’ve had our share of ups and downs, Karen in particular has faced unimaginable challenges. I am in awe of her courage and strength. 

Trans-Lux Cinema, Big Macs, Frankie’s Sports Bar, Roseweenie (both versions), Elvis and Me, Melrose Place, Squantz Pond, Catalina Island, Gilly’s 

I am so grateful to have this very special friend in my life and I hope we get to see more of each other before too much time passes. 

Anything Goes, M&L van, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, Latin Club, The Grits, Pencil, American Pie, pork fried rice with pints of Ben & Jerry’s, Ed Comer

Karen, happy birthday! I love you and thank you for being my best friend. 

Rolling down the street, cars honking angrily, air mattress flapping in the wind, tears streaming down my face

“Don’t let go! Don’t let go!” 

I never will. 

It’s the end of August, or as a friend once described it “the Sunday night of Summer.” I absolutely love Summer. It’s my favorite season by far, perhaps because it is so fleeting here in New England. Everyone is out and about, the weather is gorgeous, and the charms of the beaches and quaint villages abound. In short, it’s perfection. Even in these troubled times. 

As I’ve had every year since I’ve been alive, this Summer was delightful. I still was able to do all the things I love to do in the summertime, which basically consists of going to the beach, dining al fresco, exercising outdoors, wearing long breezy dresses, and sipping cocktails on a patio or rooftop bar. Sure, things were a bit different this year but as humans we learn to adapt and overcome. 

Fall is on the horizon, another season I absolutely adore in New England. The crisp air, the beautiful foliage, the warm sunny days and cool nights begging for a fire. I’ll stop short of shilling pumpkin spice lattes, but Autumn is pretty magical itself. 

My whole life I planned to move to Southern California. I consider myself a bit of a hippie, and I relate to the breezy lifestyle of California in the 70s, the vibe of Laurel Canyon. Of course I love the weather, and the palm trees, and the glamour. I can go to the beach year round if I wanted. But somehow, I never made it there. 

After college I moved down south for a bit but that never truly felt like home. After several years, I returned to New England with a fresh appreciation for the people, the architecture, the charm. I settled into life in Massachusetts and I never looked back. New England has its own culture and I relate to it like no other place on earth. It’s hard to describe unless you grew up here. I know any region in the country can say the same thing, and we’re all a patchwork of different cultures and environments, cuisine, history and colloquialisms. I love to travel, but the Yankee spirit will never leave me, and that fills me with pride. 

I’ve met the best, most genuine, smart, educated, reasonable, friendly, hearty and HILARIOUS people ever in this region. I can’t imagine spending my life anywhere else. I’m not a fan of Winter but I do love the beauty of that first snowfall. I love a warm fireplace at night. I love curling up with a good book and a steaming bowl of chowder. 

One of my favorite memories was during a blizzard and a group of us went to my friend Amy’s house. We dug out seats in the snow, and made a huge fire in the middle. We sat in our hats and snowsuits, sipping ice cold beer and laughing hysterically as we stumbled and fell over in the falling snow. I look back at the pictures from that day and I don’t remember the cold. I only remember it was one of the best days of my life. 

This California hippie chick with a pure New England soul has found her place in this world. 

Perhaps you’re one of those people who admires interior design and desires to have a sweet looking pad...but you don’t know where to start. Reading interior design magazines and books is a hobby of mine, which helps fuel my passion for decorating. I get a ton of ideas and I’m constantly enhancing my decor. Ready to love your home?  

Here are some five super easy ways to get on the path to divine design: 

Area Rugs:  Elevate a room instantly by adding an interesting rug. Stores like Home Goods have an excellent selection for a great price. I swap out my rugs every few years, since I have a dog prone to using them as her personal throw-up spot. Dude, can’t you move over to the hard woods?  No?  OK then. 

Starter to chic:  Cowhide rugs! They look amazing in any room. There are endless options, but I think this brindle look is especially hip. https://amzn.to/2I8ievC

Sunburst mirrors:  My go-to to instantly improve a room. I have several all over my house of all sizes and designs. I never get tired of sunburst mirrors. They make me happy.

Starter to chic:  I have this very one in my bedroom. Looks cool. https://amzn.to/2vtFdi1

Lighting:  Swap out those “builder grade” basic light fixtures for something with a little more personality. There are so many unique fixtures out there at affordable prices. You’ll have people looking up! 

Starter to chic: This piece truly wows. https://amzn.to/32Bg94Z

Funky Art:  I love cheap, funky art and going to a weekend flea market is one of the best places to find it. I’ve created a “gallery wall” in my living room with a mix of art, craft pieces, and sunburst mirrors (naturally). 

Starter to chic:  A canvas photograph of Brigitte Bardot never fails. https://amzn.to/2TtdFkK

Plants:  I recently fell in love with house plants after discovering Justina Blakeney and her store The Jungalow on Instagram. I love succulents because they’re so easy to care for. 

Starter to chic:  This funky little macrame plant hanger is under $10! https://amzn.to/2TaP9pZ

Happy decorating! 

This year I turn 50. The Big 5-0. 

How do I feel about it? Well, that’s not an easy answer. I remember turning 40. I threw myself a big party at a cool artsy loft downtown. I had a DJ, open bar, and mid-way through the party I changed into a latex Evil Kneivel jumpsuit and did high kicks on the dance floor. I guess you could say I was pretty excited about the decade ahead. 

Looking back, it was everything I expected and more. My career took off, I got in shape, I went on some cool trips, I watched my son change from a toddler to a teenager. In short, the 40s have been great to me and I’m really going to miss them. I’m cherishing this last year, clinging to 49. 

50 looms ahead and I wonder what it will be like. When I look in the mirror, I see wrinkles around my eyes and wiry white hairs sprouting from my scalp. I’m still working out regularly but I notice I can’t do all the things I used to. I’ve had some limiting injuries and I’ve lost a bit of strength. But that doesn’t stop me. I still feel good. I still feel young.  

My 40s were awesome, but now I’m grateful to be entering a new decade. I wonder what challenges it will bring, and how many different directions it will take. I have so many things I want to do, so many places I want to visit. I feel more like myself than I’ve ever felt in my life. I know that I’m in charge of my own happiness. I want to be a better wife, mother, sister, daughter, friend, person. But first, I need to figure out how to celebrate. That Evil Kneivel jumpsuit still fits. Hmmmm….

I believe the best is yet to come and that’s something to get excited about. 

In short, the party ain’t over.  Bring it, 50s.