10 December 2013

/ˈkrɪsməs/ wishlist

Generally, I'm not in the habit of asking people for gifts at Christmas. I'd just feel far too rude and as though I'm sticking two fingers up at the spirit of gift-giving. So, if you buy me something, I will take it, smile a hopefully not too half-hearted smile and say thank you.

Some examples? The year my entire nuclear family bought me pedi-related gifts; feet refloxology, foot cream, foot gel, various other foot spa shit. I have no idea what I said during 1998 that convinced them all that such items should be top of their 'presents Jen cannot live without' list. They were adamant it was coincidence but I am sure they conspired against me. Who's laughing now, eh? Er... yeah.

Another year, The World's Sharpest Knife from my boyfriend at the time. If I'm honest, I have a lot less to say about this one; it actually turned out to be a good present. I mean, comparing it with the entire world's knife collection proved to be too difficult but it certainly seemed to have all the functionalities and attributes you would expect from a knife, and it was preeeetty sharp. Aside: I'm not sure I can endorse the Amazon seller for this one. Not with a name like Twin Towers Trading Ltd. Sorrynotsorry.

Oh and one of my aunties* is great for unusual gifts that I'm sure someone would have an awesome use for. But me. I mean really, come on, me? I don't (usually) need control pants, and I'm also no longer a child so what appears to be a thermal vest for a 12-14 year old probably isn't going to stretch over my bosom area, as modest as it may be.

But as a child, I would write my letter to Santa like all the other children and the response wasn't all bad. My siblings and I got some pretty good gifts including a quad bike. But that was stolen within a year. Awesome. One year, each of us received a musical instrument; saxophone, clarinet, keyboard, and for my youngest brother, pan pipes. Please note: three of us were all already musical. My parents weren't trying to create a small ensemble. Truth be told, he didn't ask for these. He didn't even want a musical instrument. He was simply talked into choosing something at the music shop so as to feel involved. I can imagine that when my dad noticed the pan pipes, he thought it would be funny. Maybe my brother obliged because he had dreams of being a pan pipist (panflutist?) and bringing out his own range of CDs for relaxation and spiritual awakening. But, at the age of ~8, I doubt it at. He was probably just rather impressionable. Let's just say, he doesn't play them any more, if he ever did.

However, these memories are peppered with the years my parents, in their infinite wisdom, decided I wasn't getting the gifts I'd asked for. Like the year I wanted Ski Barbie. Maybe it was the sheer number of additional components that I might then request in the Christmases to come; or that I might decide my next hobby would be skiing; or perhaps they were wary of gifts which were anatomically misleading: bendy legs clearly weren't something Affordable Barbie went in for. My parents somewhat made up for denying me this by giving me Barbie Gym/Workout another year, although her legs didn't bend when she rode the stationary bike either. My sister and I were also never given a Ken Doll, despite numerous requests and multiple attempts to 'borrow' my brothers' Action Man. My sister's reaction and solution: Fine. Enter, stage left: one of our shitty Barbies with a crew cut. "Jen, meet Ken".

I've discovered, the minefield of buying Christmas presents for toddlers these days is truly petrifying. My four year old nephew wants, no needs, everything you in Smyths, Toys R Us and Argos. Some of his chosen items include anything Monsters University related. This, I will allow and so have bought him some Mike Wazowski slippers whose mouths open when he walks. But there are many other things I am not sure I can allow, or even fathom. One such example is this thing: a Talking Lambie. Wtf is that you ask? My question exactly. Let me reserve my comments until you have seen, or at least heard it. Please observe the pink fluffy item (centre).

Now, I'm not one to gender stereotype — I don't give two hoots that it's pink and my nephew is (obviously) a boy. But if I saw this whilst searching for a Christmas present in a children's toy shop or website, I can say with complete certainty that I would not exclaim 'Now that is what I need to get a four year old boy!' Sigh. So, after an hour of browsing children's toys websites, even with my sister as a chaperone via Skype, I had to admit defeat and move away from the laptop, dragging my jelly legs and slightly melted brain in tow. Just tell me when I can buy him physics books. I jest. Mostly.

Anyway, I think my point was at 28, I'm definitely not in the habit of requesting gifts and would feel even more cheeky saying I'd accept the money. Mainly for fear that their reaction, voiced or otherwise, would be 'Oh no you won't, you money-grabbing betch!'. I also don't need any more belongings, especially with the amount that I move house these days! Plus, most people buy things for themselves as and when they want them. But at Christmas, it somehow feels acceptable to wish for things, and to note them down in a list on your blog which is not specifically directed at anyone, even if those this-wishlist-is-specifically-not-directed-at-you people do in fact read that blog. Amiright? So, I present my /ˈkrɪsməs/ wishlist which is totally not aimed at anyone. Anywhere. Ever.

  • 'Hyperbole and a Half: Unfortunate Situations, Flawed Coping Mechanisms, Mayhem, and Other Things That Happened' by Allie Brosh
  • A pair of £175 leather boots by Ugg. That's right, leather. Not those other ridiculous nonsense. You know what I'm talking about.
  • The vision in my left eye to be perfect. Both eyes would be ideal but I'll take my chances with the right.
  • A lego watch because who doesn't frickin' love lego? Ssh!
  • A time travel device. I cannot imagine anyone would ask why so I am not justifying this one. 
  • Something that allows me to dress myself by verbal command.
  • A laser. Because I miss them.

Now, I realise some of those items might be ever so slightly unrealistic — and you can probably see the point at which my imagination ran wild — but remember, I'm not really asking anyone to buy them for me, am I? Also: stop trampling on my dreams.

If my house were a castle, with a library à la Beauty and the Beast, then a) I probably would've already purchased these items for myself because I own a frickin' castle and so can probably afford other shit too, b) I would be able to store them in my castle, c) I would not wish to move out of said Beauty-and-the-Beauty-omfg-look-at-this-bitchin-library castle, and finally d) because these would most definitely exist in the aforementioned universe in which I live in a castle.

I'm not sure how I attained this castle. It's not important. The point is, I know you want to but please, don't buy any of these items for me. I just enjoy lusting after things.

* actually my Dad's aunty. Ya know, if you care. Or whatever.

I'll come clean, today's post was inspired by this on Deadspin: My kid's insane Christmas wish list. Annotated. You should definitely go read it.

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