Warm and Rosy Time
The server at work is down, and I can’t send in my reports for proof. No matter — I’ll just laze about and write mindlessly, no?
It’s a little over a week before Thanksgiving, and anyone who’s been subject to television knows that the Christmas ads have already been running nonstop. After seeing an ad last night where cartoons drive up to a cozy house and rush in to enjoy the holidays, I found myself feeling decidedly apathetic. Perhaps it’s the Christmas overload before the damn season even begins, but I’ve not enjoyed Christmas for about half a decade now. Instead of making me think of warm thoughts, like sitting in front of the fireplace and baking cookies and wrapping gifts, it made me think of the things that I have to buy.
I’ve been wrangled into a gift exchange with my friends, and I of course have no idea what to get the friend that I got. Our limit is $15-$20; what can you get for $15-$20? One friend suggested we go the "zany" route and get each other silly stuff, but you know, that’s just gotten so old over the course of the year. That’s all we’ve done, really. When I think about it, two of my friends who have birthdays early in the year only got cards, I got beach accessories, an August birthday got a racecar themed care package (don’t ask), and the last in the birthday cycle got an office survival kit (filled with anti-bacterial stuff, and the occasional Post-It Note). I just might get my friend something economical but very nice from Red Envelope — I adore that store, and have subjected my poor boyfriend to its sappy products often.
Gift exchanges are also done in my household; rather than buy a whole bunch of crap for each member of the family, we draw names on Thanksgiving and are solely responsible for that person’s gift. We can of course get small stuff for our stockings, but the biggies are reserved for the family member whose named you plucked from the hat (usually at University of Michigan hat). We’ll be drawing names early on Thanksgiving morning seeing as how I have to get myself to the airport, but I’ll know who I’m getting before I leave. I’m thinking that, probably by chance, I’d find something pretty nice in my boyfriend’s city.
Last but certainly not least is the boyfriend — I have an inkling of what I want to get him, but I also have to make sure that he doesn’t guess it prior to opening the damn package. He’s already boasting that he knows what I’m getting him, which of course he doesn’t — I change my mind every single day as to what I want to give him. And oh! Another idea just popped into my head. So I’ve got about four or five things I’d like to get him, but seeing as how he’s my sugar daddy and not vice versa, he’ll probably have to settle for two of those five things. When I find a new job and I’m paid decently and live nearby him, I’ll buy him lots of beer and he will be one happy man — he’ll forget that I wasn’t able to buy him all that I wanted to. ;)
Moving from gifts, there’s the Christmas card dilemma. Oof. I never realized how many friends I had until my Christmas card list was out of control a few years ago — and now I have even more people I’d need to send these cards to this year. Do I have to? I mean, really, do I have to? I didn’t last year, but I can’t deny I do want to sit down and just write good wishes towards people over the holidays. Then again, I can’t deny I don’t want to sit down and write until my hand cramps into some weird claw form that’s painful to have and to see. I’m still debating, and am leaning towards no, but gift exchanges outside of the family call for a card, which calls for cards for the others, which makes you feel guilty that you didn’t get a card for all of your friends, and . . . gah. Why can’t I live, isolated, in the mountains (preferably not writing manifestos, before anyone gets smart)?
To bake, or not to bake, that is the question?
And what do you want, WordNerd? Um, peace on earth and a nifty new job? All kidding aside, I have absolutely no idea what I want. I have way too many clothes, my running shoes are taken care of (mwah!), I buy books on impulse too often to know if there’s anything I really want, and I’m just have too much clutter. I just know there’re going to be many weekends when I have to fly back to Michigan (this is after I move, see) to slowly clear out all of my belongings from the house, and you’re asking me what else I want? (Yes, you can imagine a jokingly indignant tone going on right there.)
"Ah, Christmas. Warm and rosy time. The hot wine steams, the Yule log
roars and we’re the fat that’s in the fire." ("The Lion in Winter")
