All I Want for Christmas is Everything I Don't Already Have

Christmas is a stressful time. I think we can all pretty much agree on that.

Unless of course you don't celebrate Christmas, care about people, or are generally a perfect person.

For those of you who are not perfect, the different factors that induce the yearly holiday stress are innumerable. You don't have any money, don't have the time, don't know what to get, or who to get for. Are you really not supposed to buy your significant others family gifts and if you are, is it ok for them to be as lackluster as the ones you buy your own family? The list goes on and on.

For me all of those struggles are very real, but an additional struggle I grapple with yearly is the desire to buy myself things. There are so many things that I desperately want, but will not buy and feel like I can't ask for.

I won't buy them because I have something comparable that gets the job done. Or I know in my heart that whatever it is is impractical or impossible. Usually it's just that I can't justify the cost and am convinced that if I keep holding out the price will eventually drop to a number I like.

I can't ask for them because they're mostly extravagant cleaning gadgets I've seen on infomercials, very specific styles of socks and underwear that reveal too much about my personal life, or toys suitable for boys ages 10-17.

But this is the Internet. And because it is the Internet I can do and say whatever I like without the fear of repercussions or embarrassment because I don't have to see any of your faces and if you choose to say anything at all that I don't like or disagree with I can chalk it up to cyber-bullying and my mom will reassure me that you are probably just jealous of how smart and pretty I am.

So, without any further ado, here is my fantasy Christmas list.

1. A Shark Steam Pocket Mop- It just seems like it's more sanitary and efficient than the weird sponge on a stick I bought at the dollar store.

2. Super Smash Bros Melee for Gamecube- Because my mom decided I no longer wanted my N64, and sold it at a garage sale without my consent back in '02.

3. N64

4. Harry Potter to be real.

5. A pocket watch- I know it's impractical, but I don't care. I just like watches.

6. A glasses rope- Practical, but most people find this wish to be lame. Although I do have one friend who told me that it's fine because her dad uses a glasses rope and he's a boss. A. Boss.

7. Collecting Pokemon cards to be cool again.

8. A telescope- Deluxe. I know this is too much to ask. Last year I just asked for a NASA t-shirt instead. Compromises.

9. Tiny Socks- Brand does not matter as long as they are well made and can't be seen no matter what sort of trendy booty or flat I am wearing.

10. A dentist that doesn't scare me or have a team of assistants dedicated to making me feel like my teeth are going to rot out of my head because I don't floss enough.

11. A houseboat- Marina fees included please.

And that's it. I know right now, my close friends and family are borderline annoyed with how serious they know I am about each item on this list.

Conversely, I too am annoyed that none of them will just break down and get me what I want instead of insisting I'll love a gift certificate for laser hair removal. Or perhaps a wireless mouse.

Anyway, I hope you all got everything you wished for this year, and more than that, I hope you made a few wishes come true.

Imagine a shooting star now.

It's Ok if I Have No Desire to Run a Marathon as Long as I Eat Kale, Right?

I'm in my middle 20's.

For some, this statement causes outrageous feelings of resentment and the urge to tell me I'm just a kid with my whole life ahead of me and make sure I don't get married because it's the biggest mistake I'll ever make while simultaneously asking If I have a boyfriend and do I think we'll get married.

Or if you're my Granny, you want to know when a young, beautiful girl like me will find a nice rich man, preferably who plays for the Yankees, while simultaneously asking if I've gained weight. And let's not forget the grandkids. She already has a bunch of them, but has no trouble using the "I'm not going to be around for much longer card" on me. My Granny is using her eventual death as a tool for her peer pressure.

People are really asking a lot of me. I'm just trying to make sure I remember to put a bra on before I leave for work.

It doesn't help the pressure when I see people from home marrying their high school sweethearts. Yes- without even trying anyone else. I will probably lose at least 10 friends on social media for that sentence.

I've seen a lot of other things start to change outside of the weddings and babies. It's become common to have a self-involved blog about nothing and it seems like everyone grew a beard.

Everyone.

The most prominent trend I've noticed recently is that a vast majority of my peers are deciding to get right with their fitness and health. I'm down with that. That is cooool with me. But I can't deny, some of it is beyond me. Surpasses my understanding. Just doesn't even interest me at all.

For example, Crossfit. Changing people's lives left and right. Empowering the once weak and getting otherwise finicky digestive tracks regular. For me, it sounds a little scary.

Or hot yoga. If I'm going to have speedo-clad men bending over in my face and accidentally wicking their sweat onto my body, I want to have complete control over exactly who those men are. The closest thing I've ever done to hot yoga is cleaning my apartment without the AC on, and that was hard enough.

But out of all of the fitness trends I see moving through my social circle, the marathon running is definitely the most intimidating. I see those "26.2" bumper stickers and think, "26.2 times more insane than me."

When I think about running a marathon, my first objection is the running. I do not like to run. I do it, but the whole time I'm having to flex my imagination. I'll listen to a song and pretend it's about me. Like something obvious such as Jay-Z's, "Hard Knock Life." Or perhaps that I am performing it.  For that, the song that comes most immediately to mind is Celine Dion's, "That's the Way it Is."

One number that I can use for both fantasies is the Bee Gees rendition of "More Than a Woman."

The next mental block is the distance. 26.2 miles is a long distance which means a long time. What does one think about for all of that time? How do you stay motivated? Before I even say this, I know it's a bad attitude, but I feel like I would get bored. Or just spend 22 of those miles trying not to cry.

Even though I am naturally resistant to many of the healthy lifestyle changes I see all my other 20 something acquaintances adapting, I am still making an effort to get on board.  I drink seltzer water instead of soda and will myself to believe it tastes just as good because the bubbles are really what I'm looking for. I still have not tried to make myself believe I am gluten intolerant because never will I ever. Nor do I intend on giving up anything enveloped or at least blanketed in cheese. But I  do try to eat mostly organic when I can afford it, and when I can't, I buy brown eggs to trick my mind.

Beyond any of my mind tricks, I know for sure that I'm doing something right because I eat kale. And I don't know any of the facts about why, I just know that kale is a big deal. I put it in my smoothies, I eat it on sandwiches, and occasionally on its own, topped with some kind of creamy dressing and bacon.

I am just now realizing that I only eat kale when I can hide it in the other things I am eating.

Slow and steady wins the race.

Pun intended.  

There Are No Losers, Only Different Degrees of Winner.

"To whom it may concern:

If you've made it this far, then I will make the assumption that you feel like this concerns you. This is your last chance to set it down and walk away. If you want to know what it's about, I don't even know yet so I can't help you there and, quite frankly, I really don't want to.

Make Good Decisions,

Gab"

-Gabrielle Albino, February 20th, 2006.

What you just read above is a word for word excerpt from a page I wrote in one of my journals when I was 16. I go on to say,

"Words are useless. These words are useless and I am so for writing them. In all of my uselessness, I have come to know my place. Let's face it, I'm a 16 year old girl that goes to high school and is just as mediocre as everyone else."

That was almost 10 years ago.

Exactly 7 years, 1 month, and 6 days ago, my dad died and that was relatively horrible.

Every year around the time of my dad's death, I tend to find myself getting all weird and introspective. I do things like ponder the meaning of life (is there one?), along with other unusual activities like painting my nails and trying to make myself like cabbage.

This year, I found myself doing my annual ponderfest and I wandered back to a place I find myself often. I'm talking about the place where I remember that writing gives me a certain, unexplainable frisson. So amidst the spiral of nostalgia, I decided to take a look at some of my old journals.

When I read them now, I can see that I was always a well of raw, untapped talent.

October 3rd, 2007

"I haven't been feeling well lately. I think it's from gas."

I'm sure you're thinking right now about why I don't spend all my time writing pure gold like that for the masses. I'll tell you why- BECAUSE GOLD IS WORTH $$$ AND UNTIL I GET MINE, YOU CAN FORGET IT.

That's not true except for the part about gold being worth money. Speaking of money, I'd like to take a quick second to post my own little advertisement, which I hope you will be patient with in exchange for me not having any actual advertisements on this page.

If it helps, read this in the voice of a woman doing radio commercials for a local car dealership that her uncle's friend owns.

Are you incredibly wealthy? Have you always wanted to give away several thousands of dollars to a stranger out of the sole desire to be philanthropic? Would you definitely be interested in living out that lifelong dream with a sort of plain, sometimes disagreeable, lover of labrador retrievers? Then look no further, I'm your gal. Contact me in anyway humanly possible. 

Genuineinquiriesonly.Mustbenostringsattached(meaningIwon'tgiveyousex).Seriously,collegeturnedouttobeexpensive.

Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

The real reason I don't write all the time is because it's hard and I don't have a ton of extra time outside of work and life and I often make excuses when I am afraid of making myself vulnerable to failure. I'm sure you know the feeling. It's like when you think you want to try rollerblading because you used to do it and it was exhilarating. But then you remember that one incident when you were 10 and fell on your face and bit through your front lip and your little sister started crying and shouting, "I don't want you to die!"while you spat blood all over your driveway.

It's exactly like that. You know.

But there, I just did it. So if everyone could please applaud me and award me with accolades for my effort, it would be appreciated. Because in this day and age, there are no losers, only different degrees of winner.

And if you liked what you read here, keep your eyes open for my next post, which I haven't totally thought up yet, but will likely be about how Beyonce's song, "Drunk in Love" could easily be about me and a box of Cheez-Its.