Damn The Christmas Wish List

I wrote a post before about my disdain of the Christmas Wish List. It might have been before WordPress, or even Facebook. I think I might have posted it on MySpace… Remember MySpace?

I’m certainly in the minority, or maybe the only one.

It’s fine for kids. Of course it’s great for kids. The whole ruse of if you’ve been good all year then Santa will reward you with the toys and things that you’ve wished for.  But I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about adults, grown ups, not children…

There’s something fundamentally wrong about telling other people what gifts to buy you. I can’t say why it is, or break it down scientifically or morally or in any other way. Maybe not wrong, but unpleasantly weird.

For Christmas I want this thing and I want that thing, … but we can’t appear to be greedy or materialistic so we disguise it into a “wish list” and to make it more palatable we say to each other “Let’s all make a wish list so we know what to buy you and we all can get what we want” … Everyone smiles  “Oh what a great idea” … And then the race is on. …

I have to buy this for her. I have to buy that for him. Oh! this is what they’ve been looking for for last couple of months, but it’s not on their list. This is what they want but it’s not the right colour. They’re all out of this. And, ugh! I can’t afford that, but the set limit that everyone agreed on was 50 so I have to spend 50… Heaven forbid you get them something that wasn’t exactly what they had on their wish list…


What would make the whole process easier is if we all went out and got what we wanted and just say that this one came from you, and that one came from you…

I was told that the dreaded wish list saves time. It’s easier. … Yeah, it does save time and it’s easier to say; “Ah, Fuck It. I just can’t be bothered to get to know you, and learn about all your likes and loves. I don’t want to waste my time to come up with a special gift  for you and you alone. So tell me what you want, and I’ll get it for you. Merry Christmas!… Oh by the way, I want these things…”


But this is how it is done these days. This is not only acceptable, but expected. Admit it. During the oh so jolly Christmas Season we think about all the things we want, and we are told what to get for everyone else. So with head down, eyes forward, we file into our ranks and march forward … I want this … They want that …

I thought that I might have escaped it. For years I just didn’t participate. Then a few years ago I met that special someone, and that special someone had a wonderful family that invited me to their Christmas celebrations which included a Secret Santa or Kris Kringle…

… I do love giving gifts. I know after reading this far it may not seem so, but I do. I love getting to know the person hearing all their stories. I like to think that I’m fairly industrious and creative, so I thoroughly enjoy making as much of the gift as I can so that it’s one of a kind. There’s such satisfaction and such amazing rewards putting together or creating that very special gift specifically for that one person. …

… So for 3 years I enjoyed the gift of giving. Planning through out the year, getting to know this beautiful family. … Then it was all ripped away, and I was already down the rabbit hole. … This year they decided to add a Christmas Wish List to the Kris Kringle. I couldn’t argue. I am only the girlfriend accessory rendering me at the moment merely temporary. This was a Family decision, rooted and permanent. I tried to give other options. “How about a list of things you absolutely don’t want?” “How about a short list of hobbies and interest?” … No … Just a list of what you want me to buy you. … It was too late, I couldn’t back out, so I have to go along with it.

So what do I do now? The person I got was very specific, even added money to make up the difference in the set limit and the price. … Am I really giving them a Christmas gift? Or did I just get hired to go out and do their shopping? Do I wrap it up in Christmas paper, ribbons and bows? Will they act surprise? “Oh! It’s what I’ve always wanted! You shouldn’t have!” … I shouldn’t have? Did I have the option? Do I fain excitement of giving them a gift they told me to get them?

They are still a Wonderfully Beautiful Family, but I’m so disappointed & heartbroken. How am I going to get through this without ripping out my soul? How am I going to get through this without offending them and still stay true to myself? I know that I don’t want to do this, but I’m already in it. And I’m hoping that next year there will be other things that will require my attention and attendance so that I won’t have to go through this again. But I will suck it up for now. I will be a good girlfriend, with my head down and eyes forward marching along. … I’ll write out my angst in this blog, taking comfort in knowing that nobody that I know will read this or read all of it, all the while figuring out how, figuring out a way…


A Peace Of November

Dear Retail, Dear Commercialism, Dear Advertising,

I applaud your efforts to entice the Christmas Spirit so that we can empty our pockets, our purses, our wallets and our bank accounts to buy whatever you are hocking and selling. But may  we please have a little peace in November before you strangle us with your jingle bells? A bit of calmness before you blind us with flashing fairy lights? Some serenity before the barrage of chaotic screams of “must haves” and “You need to’s” or our families and friends will hate hate us? And although I am flattered that all Mariah wants for Christmas is me wrapped up under her Christmas tree, I’m feeling a bit uneasy that she has to tell me this 20 time a day on the radio, at the pub and in every store I enter. “They” do say that absence does make the heart grow fonder, so may we have a break this November to collect ourselves and let our hearts grow  until they nearly burst of fondness? May we have just a little quite before the storm that is Christmas? May we please? … Pretty, pretty, Please?


The 3rd Coyote




Serendipitious Noises # ^.^

Here’s a conversation I over heard between a Mom and her 6yr old Son on the bus from Fermoy …

“…What was your favourite song?”
“I like ahh, I like da Little Drummer Boy. I like, I like da Little Drummer Boy because he played his drums for Jesus because he was poor and didn’t have any money to buy him any presents por Christmas. … I play the violin!”
“You do and you are very good at it!”
“I can play my violin por everweone on Christmas!”
“You can. I’d say they would enjoy that very much! Then you can keep all your Christmas money!”
“I can!? … I can poo it ‘n da ***buckets!?”
“(hehe) Yeah! You can put your money in the buckets!”
“I can play my violin, and poo my money ‘n da buckets and everweone will have presents!

***Here in Ireland, the various charities will collect money in buckets.

Serindipitious Noises #C@G370W7

I go into Penny’s to look for some cheap bitz & pieces. They are starting early with all the Xmas decorations & novelties, jamming them into every nook & cranny, putting up extra shelves, making the aisles so narrow my broad She Hulk shoulders couldn’t fit through without walking sidewise. I decide, ‘It’s enough! Time to go! I’m hungry! I need a toilet!” & attempt to make my way through this Xmas labyrinth of HORROR & DEATH! I scooch down one aisle & darn it! It’s blocked by dismembered Santa heads that you wear as hats! Quick! Stage left down the other aisle, UGH! Thawrted by radio active reindeer with GLOWING NOSES! Again another aisle & FOR GOODNESS SAKE WHATHAFAAA ….! Demon snowmen toe socks with their hollow black eyes & toothless smiles … Oh dear me, I was lost & confused! I wandered aimlessly muttering aloud; ” I can’t get out! I can’t get out!…”

Then I turned some random corner & there stood before me a young girl of no more than 3 ft in height, long golden spun hair, & emerald green eyes as big as the full moon! I stood stupid in awe! Here is my salvation! Here is my freedom from this wretched place! But before I could speak, she said to me while clutching a pair of mistleltoe leggings close to her heart, ” I can’t get out either.”