Ah…. nice morning. Guzzling coffee by the gallon, in full anticipation of what might to come early in the morning. Presents to buy, just because I’ve been too shattered to make it out of the house… So there goes my choc-chip bread idea out of the window. Oh well… There will be other occassions when I will be able to feed the masses.Not.
Oh well. References and transcription are going quite well, considering. Am reusing everything four times before they can live dumpily ever after. With this type, I found that to use it more than four times just… erm… not up to the par.
Okay. Students are not supposed to have pars, are they? I vaguely remember the ‘anything goes’ rule, or has it changed?
Christmas rituals, right? I have no problems whatsoever with Christmas, per se. But don’t you think the commercialization of it has just gone a tad bit further than Pluto? It used to be a quiet thing with the family. Good christmases are not so much about the prezzies, or the food, or even the expensive tinsels, and the disposable live trees.
Little well-meant presents, the Christmas morning mass, a quiet family get-together, swapping stories and all-round just chillin’.
Now… Well, just look at what will happen to you if you don’t start building the presents cellar long before Christmas. Although they did say that December is the holy month to go shopping for presents, foodstuff and the likes. To be honest, Christmas present hunting starts a good half-year before C-day. What’s wrong with the picture? And, just watch it if you somehow lose the receipt (and rendered it impossible for the receipient of your less-than-well-appointed gift to exchange it the minute the stores open on Boxing Day), or if the present(s) cost less than the remortgage value of the house.
And I do mean disposable trees, especially those ones that have been uprooted and propped in the middle of the living room, shedding needles and groaning under the million and one baubles and lights. Disposable. Whoever have a second-hand tree from last year? If they do, I don’t want to know.
On another note…
I can’t stand Bond Street, or Oxford Street, or any place within several miles round W1 — prime shopping target, even worse over Christmas holidays. I don’t understand the attraction, some days. Things sell on outrageously high prices, and just going down the street (in and out shops) warrants one to take an insurance policy. And the FCO issues a travel warning to Indonesia. Have they ever set foot on one of those streets?
Next war, send these shoppers and sic them on the terrorists. Just tell them there’s prime bargain behind enemy lines. I’m sure they’ll do a much better job in half the time and half the casualty. I swear, these Homo shoppiensis, they’ve evolved into highly efficient human beings with ultra-sharp elbows, and lightning-fast limbs for lightning-fast grabs of the last, latest, must-have gadgets. Oh yes, let’s not forget the trail of dust they leave for us to bite, what with their swift footedness. Tolkien Elves don’t even have a prayer against these people.
