(I’ve had Santa Baby stuck on continuous loop in my head for days now, even though I’ve been avoiding all shopping centres and other xmas venues. To exorcise the muzakal demons, I’m writing my letter to Santa…)
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Dear Fat Man, Hogfather, La Befana, Grandfather Frost, Jack the Pumpkin King, or whoever you are,
I may not have been a good girl all year, but I’ve been a pretty good bad girl. And you have millions of small children sit on your lap, so who are you to judge? This is some stuffs I want:
A calendar. The kind with big boxes for the days, so I can write appointments n stuff down for me, the Animal, and the baby when she gets here. One with pretty pictures of trees, or celestial bodies, or megaliths or something. I’ve got a couple of free promotional calendars from the likes of housing associations and midwifery teams stashed away, but it’s always nice to have a calendar that’s pleasing to look at – it makes writing down dental appointments etc less of a chore…
Good books, by which I mean interesting enough to read more than once. Fictionwise, maybe something by Neal Stephenson or William Gibson, cos I’m old skool like that. I’d say Sheri S. Tepper too, but I think I’ve read everything of hers that’s still in print. For non-fiction, stuff about psychology/game theory/neuroscience, culture (popular or otherwise), and ancient history is always good.
Socks. Unoriginal, but highly traditional. And actually needed, cos my boot linings are torn ragged and the heels of all my socks have worn through.
Gadgetry, and other semi-pointless but nifty things. I still love the Moon In My Room light, and I could do with something that cleans computer stuff like a mini hoover or that Cyber Clean goo. In general, almost anything from Firebox will make me happy.
Food. Nuts are always good, likewise dried fruit. And gingerbread. And jellybeans, especially Jelly Belly ones. And those minty candy canes. In fact, I’ve just discovered you can get Jelly Belly candy canes. Not so keen on chocolate and biscuits, but I’ll still happily eat them cos, y’know, it’s festive and whatnot.
What else? Things for the baby. Timesavers. Random surprise stuff that I never thought of (Mum’s good at those). And, as Marilyn sings, cheques (“Sign your name on the line…”).
That’s all I can think of for this year. Don’t get stuck in the chimney we haven’t got, and if you see any mince pies sitting around when you get here, they’re mine.
From Machiavelli Id, age 33 and 1/4.
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