The Ghost of Christmas(es) Past
Over the years (okay, so it's taken 14 years, and I'm still working on it), I have discovered that Jeremy absolutely hates to shop. The first indication of this shopping "phobia" occurred early in our relationship, when he wanted to go get a computer game at a store in the mall. "Oh, the mall!" I exclaimed. "I'll go with you." I think, simply because it was a new relationship, he agreed, all the while trying to figure out how to get out of any sort of "extended" mall experience that I might rope him into. His solution? First, we had to drive separately to the mall. He came up with some feebly valid excuse, so I agreed. Then, as soon as we were done at the game store, he bailed. Thus, after 14 years together, that early experience pretty much sums up the amount of time we've spent together in a mall. I would say it was his last venture in a mall, but there were a couple of very "horrific" holiday shopping ventures after that.
Which brings us to holiday shopping. There was the year he used a gift card (his own) from Kohl's to buy me all my presents. That probably was the best shopping year for him ever because he only had to go to one store. I will give him the benefit, though--it was the Christmas only a few months after we moved to North Carolina, and we were broke. It was also the only year I ever received clothing items from him, even though I frequently have them on my Christmas list.
There is also the infamous Christmas Eve K-Mart shopping that he will probably never live down. And yes, it was exactly as it sounds. He put off doing any Christmas shopping until Christmas Eve at about 4 pm, and, what a surprise, the only store he found open (and barely open) was K-Mart. He and several other equally frantic spouses whirled through K-Mart throwing items in the cart like those people who win shopping sprees--only Jeremy wasn't quite so selective. I think the panic fogged his brain, so I have no clue how he made his choices. That year for Christmas, I got throw pillows, a blanket, and set of white dishes so heavy that the box was falling apart. Which meant he barely got the box in the house and kinda just wrapped the top of it. To his credit, we are still using the dishes (which he periodically claims to hate). And, if we ever want to have a dinner party for 24, I believe we are set.
I won't even go into the "near" jewelry I got one year. Okay, I will a tiny bit. I almost got jewelry one year for Christmas. But the mall phobia struck--and mall phobia is even worse during the overcrowded holiday season. So, he's in a jewelry store, and one things leads to another, which is overcomplicated in Jeremy's fuzzy, panic stricken mind, and somehow he ends up leaving the store without buying anything, and probably leaving a very confused sales clerk behind. Jeremy swears that even the thought of entering a mall stresses him out--I now believe him. As do all my unbought Christmas presents. Maybe this is an untapped torture venue the government should investigate--sending men into crowded malls during the holiday season. I bet they could get any information they wanted.
You would think online shopping would now be Jeremy's salvation. It would be, except for when Jeremy buys almost all the gifts on Amazon.com and forgets to change the shipping address after we'd moved. So yes, the year before last, most of my gifts got sent to North Carolina. Then they got shipped back to Amazon. Then Jeremy got credited for his purchases and forgot to reorder them. I'm still waiting for my Snuggie!!!
I think Jeremy just gave up last year. Since I needed a new laptop (mine was 5 years old), he just took me to Best Buy and voila. This year, he's trying really hard, but he seems to be failing miserably.
Jeremy: When are your classes done in the spring?
Me: May
Jeremy (sounding slightly exasperated): I know May, but when in May.
Me: May 13
Jeremy: Oh. When do they start for the summer?
Me: May 17
Jeremy: Oh. That won't work either. We can't go to Ocracoke. I was going to put a downpayment down on a rental as a Christmas present, but we can't fit it in. And rates jump the last week in May.
Me: But what if I teach online? We could go that week after graduation.
Jeremy: They don't have internet access on Ocracoke.
Me: But there's that one place you can go.
Jeremy: Do you really want to have to go someplace and pay to work everyday on your vacation?
Me: Oh. But I could do it, or what about. . .
Jeremy: It was supposed to be a surprise, so now it's just moot.
Okay, so moot might have been my word, but now Jeremy is back to square one. Which means I have been trying to think of things I want for Christmas. And somehow, instead of thinking of things I do want for Christmas, I keep thinking of things I don't want.
Things Lisa Does Not Want for Christmas
Just Plain Bad Ideas
Anything that I want for the house. I only want fun presents. Which means, while we could use new sheets, I do not want new sheets. While a dishwasher would be nice, I do not want a dishwasher. I would not even want a geothermal heating and cooling system for the house for Christmas. (Okay, so I might concede on that one. What a luxury to have real heat and air! I've forgotten what that's like :P). I do not want a shower for the new bathroom or bathroom vanities. I especially do not want the tile for the shower that goes into the new bathroom. And yes, I realize that some women (although I've yet to come across any) do like to get these things for Christmas, I do not. They are not fun things. Practical? Yes. Useful? Yes. Necessary? In some cases, yes. But I much prefer the fun and impractical, and, as is probably obvious from earlier in the blog, I can get a little huffy about certain Christmas presents (and yes, the throw pillows made me a bit huffy, which is also part of the reason Jeremy will never live down what we now refer to as THAT Christmas).
I also do not want a boat, a chicken coop, chickens, a hog, goats, a cow, any sort of garden implements, fishing gear, or any power tools. I mention this strictly because of the birthday present I got one year. A Cubs baseball cap. And yes, I do love the Cubs. And yes, I would have worn the hat, if I ever wore baseball caps. Who wore the hat everywhere? Jeremy. So, for my birthday, Jeremy was not only cheap, but also bought himself a present. But I digress--birthdays are a whole other issue. I simply mention these items just in case Jeremy thought it might be a good idea to buy me something for himself (I'm pretty sure he wouldn't--now :D)
Pop Culture Items
Justin Bieber tickets. I was listening to the radio (well, I was scanning trying to find a decent station) and up comes this commercial for Plato's Closet. You can enter some contest, and, if you win, you get to pick a stocking. In the stockings will be discounts for Plato's closet. But the grand prize, if you get the right stocking, is 2 tickets to a Justin Bieber concert, so "everyone with Bieber fever should enter now!" I do not understand Justin Bieber. He looks like he's 12. He sings songs that sound like they were written by a 12 year-old (and I have only accidentally heard Justin Bieber songs, which pretty much all make me cringe). He has that messy little hair style that has 20 tons of product in to make it look messy. Doesn't that defeat the purpose? How exactly does one decide to go for overstyled messy? Needless to say, I can do without Justin Bieber tickets.
Twilight--pretty much anything related to this series of books is out. I tried to watch the movies. The last one made me wish Bella was a vampire and somebody would stake her so she'd quit whining and moping. I mean really--what is so entertaining about watching someone whine and mope for roughly 2 hours? Was I the only one that wished she died? And don't even get me started on the whole vampires sparkling thing.
The Lady Gaga meat dress. I'm fairly certain I can do without a dress made of meat. I don't imagine it's the softest material, nor could I find anywhere to sit without first putting down plastic, and after a few hours, I don't think any amount of deodorant, perfume, or air fresheners would cover the smell. And, no matter how flattering a meat dress might be to the figure, I'm pretty sure it would not be a compliment to be told you smell like rotting meat.
Any albums by the BeeGees. Okay, so this might be "retro" pop culture. I tried to like them. I really did. But every time Jeremy pulls them up on Pandora, I want to knock myself unconscious. Add to that anything by Journey, REO Speedwagon, Foreigner, Kansas. . . (I swear they were all the same band, weren't they?).
Holiday Related Items
Apples and Oranges. I am not certain how apples and oranges became a holiday gift item, but I will also pass on the fruit. I know I need to eat more fruit, but the reality is fruit sits around our house until it's soft, squishy and oozing, and then it gets thrown away. Unless it's made into bad things like caramel apples, peach cobbler, cherry cheesecake. . . we pretty much just end up with bowls of rotting fruit. And yes, you can also add the fruitcake to that mix as well. Does a fruitcake ever age? Was one batch of fruitcakes made in like 1880, and then those just get passed around each year? And what is with that jellied fruit stuff in the fruit cake? How is that fruit? What is that stuff really?
Candy canes. I only eat peppermints after a meal so I don't have bad breath. I cannot remember the last time I actually ate a candy cane, which, in reality, is simply a cane-shaped peppermint. And let's face the facts. Real candy is chocolate. (Which is why the advent calendar is perfectly fine. While they are tiny chocolates, they are still chocolates.)
Holiday Lifesaver Multipacks. The only Lifesavers anyone likes are the fruit flavored ones. All the other ones are simply telling the person "Happy Holidays. You have bad breath." So, you eat the fruit flavored ones, then stick the peppermint and the wintergreen and the spearmint and the mintilicious (they run out of real mint names so start making up their own) and mintastics in your purse, where they end up busting open and sticking to everything. So then you're stuck pulling everything out of your purse so you can remove all the lint covered lifesavers.
Things Lisa Does Want for Christmas
Now, to help Jeremy out, I will put together the list of things I do want for Christmas.
The Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lizard, Spock coffee mug. I can't help it. I love Sheldon on Big Bang Theory and how could you not love a game that overcomplicates an extremely simple game?
Or maybe that's just me. Jeremy says I overcomplicate everything. Sometimes he asks me a yes or no question just to see how long it will take me to actually answer it. Sometimes he never actually gets an answer. Not because I intentionally don't answer, but because I forget to give an answer.
This is the "Hide a Squirrel" pet toy. And really, the only reason I want this is because it makes me think of Jeremy's failed squirrel battle. So far, it's Jeremy 0, Squirrels like 100. Did a squirrel fall for the trap in the attic? No. Do squirrels still get in the house? Yes. Is the attic still littered with empty pecan shells? Yes. Do the dogs go nuts when they hear a squirrel running in the attic. No. They simply stare up at the ceiling and all their little heads swivel back and forth as the squirrel runs back and forth. Obviously, they know better than Jeremy :P
As for the golf cart, I would play golf, if someone didn't insist on making me be so quiet while golfing. Never mind the fact I suck at golfing and am fairly positive that will never change. Still, I could drive my golf cart all over . . . umm . . . Abbeville.
Add a chariot to my list also. But not just any chariot. Who wants one of those crummy chariots where you have to stand the whole time. No thank you. I'll take mine made of solid gold with a very cushy seat. The chariot also has an added benefit because the next time Jeremy asks me what I would do with miniature donkeys. . .
My very own funnel cake stand in the back yard! Funnel cakes all year round in a spiffy, designer stand that would immensely add to the landscape, and, thus, the property value. Just imagine, stumbling out the back door in the morning with a cup of coffee and delighting in the fresh aroma of funnel cakes. Oh, I also need an employee to go with my funnel cake stand.
A water park. This would go great with the funnel cake stand. Our house is very tall. It would be no problem to attach a slide to the top. We can even add another slide off the bedroom where Jeremy tore off the rotten deck. Then, all we'd have to do is open that door and slide right out.
I'm sure I could think of a ton more things for Jeremy to get me for Christmas, but I think this list should give him a pretty good start. I just can't wait until Christmas day, when I step out of the bedroom door--the one that goes outside-- and slide down to the heated pool below, then zip around to the back yard on my walkway (I've decided the walkway should go all the way around the house) where the cheerful funnel cake vendor greets me with a fresh and steaming powdered sugar coated delicacy. I will then zip back up to the house in my golf cart, climb onto the escalator, which will take me to the back door. As I open the door I will view the beautiful, half eaten Christmas tree with the miniature donkeys under it. I will then zip over to it on my walkway, and hop into my awaiting chariot, tell the donkeys to mush (what do you tell donkeys to get them going?) and ride off into the artificial hallway lamplight.
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