- A gift certificate to Zoe’s & Co. Professional Bra Fitters in Westerly. When you’re baking cookies and frantically doing last minute shopping, it’s important to have a well-fitting bra that lifts and separates.
- Classes in advanced HTML. Sure, I can embed the trailer for “Frogs” on my blog, but still can’t get that @!!*%! RSS Feed to work right!
- Purple cow-print flannel pajamas. Because the ones I have are starting to fray.
- Chocolate Chip Cookies. I sure do enjoy a good chocolate chip cookie. Who doesn’t, really?
- Migraine medication. Funny how these get more and more frequent as the holiday gets closer and closer…
- A good night’s sleep. I’m tired of tossing and turning, worrying about finishing the wrapping and addressing the holiday cards. This gift may need to be accompanied by a bottle of Nyquil.
- Domino’s Delivery. With trying to chase down sock monkeys and Chia Pets for stocking stuffers, who has time to cook?
- “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” with alternate ending – you know, where all the Whos down in Whoville are wailing and screaming because Christmas never came, and the Grinch gets to live happily ever after with a nauseous super naus.
- Happy Pills. Every once in a while, my mother likes to say “well, someone forgot to take their happy pill today!” I didn’t forget. If you have chemically-induced happiness in pill form, hand ‘em over.
- Answers. What’s the meaning of life? Where’s all this global warming that Al Gore promised me? And why must the only answer to successful weight loss be eating less and exercising more?
Still stumped as to what to buy your favorite author forChristmas? (I’m still waiting for those gifts to start pouring in, folks!) Here’s a peek at my Christmas Wish List this year:
I hate to sound Grinchy, but I’m a little tired of giving this holiday season.
I’ve bought gift baskets to support the National MS Society and candy bars to support the local high school kids. I’ve donated canned goods to Gemma Moran and shopped for toys on Black Friday for the Stuff an Ambulance Toy Drive. I’ve donated a dollar to St. Jude’s at the register every time I buy groceries, and bought my Christmas cards through Easter Seals. So why is it that I can’t look the guy in the Santa hat ringing the bell outside Stop-n-Shop in the eye when I exit the store?
It’s a tough time of year, money-wise, and really, I feel like I’ve already done my part. Half of my friends and family members are getting homemade papier-mâché ornaments for the holidays because we’re on a really tight budget right now. We keep our house at 55 degrees and dress the cats in flannel to save on the heating bill. But every time I pass the bell-ringing Santa with the red pot, I feel bad.
Really I feel bad because I don’t want to give him my spare change. My cupboards are bare from the canned goods drive and I’ve been struggling to come up with creative dinner ideas using the mustard sauce and beef log from the MS Society baskets. When a pint of sour cream comes to $2.89 (with the St. Jude donation tacked on), you know our grocery budget has been blown to snowflake-like smithereens. If I want to hang on to the two measly quarters that I’vegot rubbing together in my pocket, isn’t that my prerogative?
Maybe I want to save that money for something special – maybe as a treat for my nephews. A cup of coffee on a cold day or an apple pie from McDonalds after a long day at work.
Oh, sure, beady-eyed Santa, you might be looking into my soul and knowing that none of those things cost 50 cents and you could feed a family for a week with my two quarters, but my intentions are good. Okay, no they’re not. Really. I. just. want. to. keep. my. change.
Fine, take my money. Here. It was burning a hole in my pocket anyway. But that’s it. I am DONE giving this holiday season. I’ve decided to avoid all malls and stores for the rest of the holiday season; that way, the bell-ringing Santa menace can’t guilt me out of any more money.We can survive on beef log casserole in mustard sauce for the next two weeks, right?
As far as Christmas specials go, I am a certified Grinch. (Actually, I don't mind the Grinch so much, except for that sappy crappy happy ending. End it right after he steals all the toys and trees, I say!)
I'm not sure why I hate them so much. But nothing rankles my nerves more than hearing Frosty shout "Happy Birthday!" The mere sound of his voice makes my fillings ache, and I start rooting for the sun to come out.
Jason tried to convert me to his side (the dark side). He loves every cheesy, hokey special that comes on this time of year, and Tivos all of the Hallmark Christmas specials as they air. I did agree to watch one with him called "November Christmas" only because Sam Elliott was in it, and I sure do like me some Sam Elliott. The movie was pretty predicatable, and I'd forgotten that Sam Elliott is not the same shirtless young buck I remember from "Frogs" -- but Jason did get some satisfaction. I did get weepy at a couple of Hallmark card commercials that aired during the program.
I don't hate all Christmas specials, of course. Just most of them. "Shrek the Halls" is pretty funny. And really, nobody can knock the Charlie Brown Christmas special that comes on each year. But nothing can turn me into Scrooge faster than hearing Rudolph whining through his stuffy nose that none of the other reindeer will play with him. Maybe because you're such a whiner, Rudy, ever think of that? And the girl he winds up with really could do better. And an elf wanting to be a dentist is just plain stupid. Every year, I hope that the Bumble will turn out to be a card-carrying member of the NRA and serve up venison for Christmas dinner.
As a result of my rather vocal opinion on the matter, Jason has started to refuse to watch holiday specials with me. He says that my shouting "Die, Frosty, die!" is distracting.
I should have thought of this years ago.
Pretty and perfect in every way.