For the record, that’s how Danielle dealt with crowds before Alexander was born. Going to the mall with her required the same rigorous preparation as a three-hour jog. Pregnancy slowed her down a bit, and then post-pregnancy-baby-screaming-induced insomnia after that, but lately the pace has been picking up again. I need to learn to roller skate.
I hate Christmas shopping, mostly because of the crowds. I’d love to live in a fantasy world where the population of earth hovers in the nine-hundred million range, unnecessitating the need for lines, cues, and wasted time while the debit network is overloaded. Unfortunately, my apocalyptic neucleogenic virus is a few decades from public beta, so for now I might point out that the ‘slobbering masses’ can be avoided by shopping early and online. Neither of which I did this year.
Now I’m all for a gift being a symbol of kinship between two people, but this time of year it always irks me that something that to me is best served spontaneously is made compulsory. This differential is evidenced most clearly in the use of expensive wrappings to enhance the element of surprise in the process, which was all but lost in the name of temporal synchronization. This point is countered somewhat by the visceral joy I experience in shredding said flashy paper with naught but my bare hands and a heart full of shopping rage.
People asking me what I want for Christmas makes me uncomfortable. There are things that I want sure, but it is my view that if I wouldn’t spend my own resources to acquire them, then it is unfair of me to ask someone else to do so. Besides, the three things I really do want fall into the distinct categories of does not exist, gigantic waste of money, and something I was just too lazy to pick up on the way home from work tonight. I would probably enjoy a series of wrapped boxes, each fitted into one another such that the unwrapping process itself is extended to the point where it becomes the gift, but I’m sure environmental lobbyists would take issue.
Not having nearly the Grinch’s ambition, I guess I’ll foray into the black pit of consumerism you may know as the ‘maul.’ I’ve already got my mom covered, a decisive victory in this campaign.
Oh, and in retrospect: A post does read a lot better with actual segues between the paragraphs. I will try to remember that for next time.
Ja.