He Thinks He's A Gift

So. (I say this every time because it's my way of pausing to organize my thoughts before you have to start reading them. Considering how they come out, aren't you glad you can't hear what I'm THINKING??)

So we all have that little list of things we're going to buy ourselves someday, right? It might not even be written down-- it might just be this wish list you keep in your head. Which is great, as far as it goes. But lately, I've been getting frustrated grunts from friends and family when things like my birthday or Christmas come near (Can I just tell you that my cat did an unintentional back flip off her favorite chair, and decided that meant it was a good time for a nibble at her food bowl? Nothing like the need to save face!)... err... what was I going off about?

Right. Wish lists.

My mom actually wants to give me something I'd like to get (she's actually been wanting this for a good two years now-- in fact, last Christmas, she got me three of everything, just in case I didn't like two of them. "Now, if you don't like it, this isn't your gift."), and my costar friend has realized that I might tell her one day that I really want the soundtrack to Legally Blond, but that by the following Thursday, it's about 35% likely that I've just gone ahead and gotten it for myself.

See, I have that list in my head like everyone else... it's just that "a solar-powered house" isn't easy to gift wrap. And all the little stuff- well, if I know I want it-- it's because I want it NOW. I've never been good at waiting like that. In fact, I used to pack for trips a good week or two before the family was going to leave, just so the clothes I wanted to bring would still be clean and stuff. And because I just couldn't WAIT that long with the "I want to bring THIS" sticky note yelling inside my head. Yeah. I literally wouldn't be able to sleep until I knew that everything I needed for the trip was ALREADY PACKED.

Luckily, the Army cured me of this. There we'd be, 3am, searching for THE OTHER PAIR OF SOCK CLIPS (these are like mini green bungee cords with metal hooks the size of your baby toenail on each end. You fasten them around the outside of your pants to get that regulation "folded-over" look down by your boots, and to cut off any remaining circulation to your feet. They were basically little elastic belts for your pant leg. The argmy is so weirdly vain!) so my then-husband could be all packed and regulation ready to go by 5am, having gotten the call at midnight that they WERE REALLY GOING at 5am on Friday instead of 3pm on Saturday like they'd promised. And, painful as it was (have I told you that I'm allergic to coffee?), it actually WAS good practice for when my then-husband did have to go to war in Iraq. They just didn't prepare him to find all his little gear-shit at the last minute WITHOUT ME. But that's another story.

Anyway, the point is that today I finally got online and started one of those online wish lists where you provide a link to the EXACT ITEM you want, and anybody who knows your name can go look it up. Yup. Just go visit (shudder) amazon.com and type in my name (my real one, with an i, not y, and two l's and two t's), and you can see the parts of my wish list that I've so far managed to quantify. I've even found the perfect lockable safe so that if my papers are ever threatened by a flood and a house fire at the same time, they'll survive. For an hour.

In the process, I found that it's actually quite difficult for me to quantify what I want. And that often, I'd find something similar to what I want... but not quite right. For instance. Do I wear a size 9, 10, or 11 in women's hiking socks? I have no idea. So I asked for one of each. Because you couldn't just select the socks, or the color of socks, that you wanted. This is not a casual day dream believer's list. This is serious stuff. This is accurate. This is exact. Good lord, did I remember to pack the hairdryer?! I've only got 3 months left to finish packing the list!! And I'm probably not going to get any sleep tonight, either. Sigh.

Well, at least I got the important stuff down. Like The Mummy Returns on DVD, and a new HDTV TV so I can own my own TV for once (because, of course, the one I am currently borrowing works perfectly fine, and therefore must be replaced), and a set of really REALLY useful metal shelves on casters so I can rearrange my own furniture. Yup. The important stuff.

Ya know, hard as I looked, I couldn't find an entry for world peace, and there wasn't one for clean air to breath, or unpolluted and unchlorinated water to drink... I'm too impatient to wait for someone else to buy me organic vegetables, so those didn't go on the list-- I get them every Saturday at my local Farmer's Market. But, man, the water sure would have been nice to add to the list. My cat pukes every time I forget to give her bottled water, and use the stuff from my kitchen tap. Yes. You heard me. My cat drinks bottled water. And, after discovering the REASON for all the puking (and falling in total love with the Green Machine I bought for the duration), I now drink bottled water, too. You can refill your old water jug for less than the price of a stamp down at the local grocer.

And that's another thing! Did you know the price of stamps is going up? AGAIN??
Another two cents. Mid May. The man in the iron mask told me the last time I went to visit him through the metal bars and ask for postage. If you thought 39 cents was odd, wait 'till you see 41 cents! Who's going to have change to get one of THOSE out of a vending machine?!

...Actually, he told the guy ahead of me in line, and then when it was my turn, I asked for some two cent stamps, since the price of postage was going up. The mail man behind the iron bars was so relieved to NOT have to tell me about it that he actually smiled. While inside his little "I might go postal, so don't ask why the bars are here" cage. Smiled. Wow. Maybe they could make it an even 50 cents, and make all the extra go to the public school system and the public libraries and other social services. That'd be nice. Maybe pigs fly. They make their own beds, you know. Honest. The pigs, that is. I wouldn't bet on the postal workers.

And what have I learned from all this? Well, just now I learned that "wishlist" is two words. That's important. I also learned that the most important things aren't always easy to find. They have to be created by the cooperative efforts of a whole lot of people. So they aren't easy to quantify, either. I also learned that I could probably add to the "I want that" list for a very very long time. It makes me feel all materialistic and selfish. It also made me realize that I no longer own a sleeping bag. Hmm. And come to think of it... I haven't felt the lack, either. I wonder what else around here I could go around NOT LACKING for the next few years...

So why, you ask, does he think he's a gift? Well... if you've ever met that guy who thinks you really should fall in love with him and be happy to go make out in the back of his car-- just by looking at him-- then you've met that guy who thinks he's a gift. What does this have to do with the post? Absolutely nothing. Thank goodness.

I tell you, I am SO not ready to date yet!
(But don't worry folks-- I'm happy, hearty, and whole. All I need in my life... is more bookshelves. And maybe a DVD of The Mummy Returns. I went out and ordered the soundtrack for Legally Blonde yesterday. It was part of my new years resolution, so I sorta felt justified on that one. After all. I've waited four months.)