Every year, I make a Christmas list for my family. Being a twenty-something, the thing I usually need most is money, but our family gift exchange is one of our favorite traditions, so I try to come up with a variety of material goods that would actually be useful for me (a new phone charger, a gift certificate to my favorite health food store, a pass for yoga classes, a selection of TV series on DVD that I can spend my weekends watching endlessly, etc.) or the occasional frivolous item that I would never actually buy for myself (ridiculous expensive high-end makeup, perfume, etc.). These are all things my family is equipped to provide for me, so I don’t have a problem nudging them in the right direction. But here is my list of things I can’t ask them for. Things I want just as badly as the tangible items I will unwrap on Christmas, but know I can never get. My real Christmas list.
1. A boyfriend who looks and acts like Jim Halpert. I can play the “contentedly single” role as long as I want, and to some extent, I actually feel that way. But every girl’s gotta have her dream guy right? Jim Halpert is the man who taught me how to love. Okay, all dramatics aside though, he really is my perfect man. He’s also the reason men in “real life” don’t live up to my ridiculous expectations. So if someone could just get me a Jim Halpert for Christmas, all of that would be moot anyway. Done.
2. A dream job. I’m not saying I want to be hired into the position I’ve been dreaming of all my life, because I don’t actually have a position in mind. I just want an actual job to dream about. Like many people my age, I feel lost in a sea of maybe-I-could-do-thises and what-if-I-tried-thats. Remember being six years old and knowing exactly what you were going to be when you grew up? I want that feeling back in my life. I want a goal to work toward that’s bigger than coming home after a day of work and trying to beat my personal record of how many episodes of Felicity I can watch before passing out on my couch. I want a vision, sitting high on a tall metaphorical mountain, that I’m constantly climbing toward and even if I never get to the top, well, at least I can say I tried to get there. All of that cheesy, reach for the stars bullshit that people talk about when you’re a kid — I want that back in my life.
3. People to stop overusing the word “epic.” Not everything is epic, okay? And if it is, come up with something more original, like “glorious” or “illustrious.” I would pee myself if I heard someone say “That. Was. Ilustrious.” after a really awesome piano concerto or skateboard stunt. (I know people refer to a lot of other things as epic, but those were the first two things to pop into my head, don’t ask me why.)
4. A self-cleaning bathroom. Do I even need to explain this one? I can’t believe I still have any hair on my head, based on the amount that seems to collect in my shower drain and on the floor. I disgust myself.
5. A hypoallergenic kitten that stays a kitten forever. Science must be getting close to developing one of these, right?
6. Nicolas Cage to stop making movies. Sorry I’m not sorry about this one.
7. Unlimited access to any sheet music ever. I majored in music and this would just be useful, okay.
8. To be best friends with Mumford & Sons. Listen, I would be an excellent BFF while they’re on tour. I would knit them all hats and pour their drinks after the shows and run interference between them and the crazy superfans. (And yes, I realize that writing this probably makes me one of said crazy superfans, but whatever.) All I’m saying is that they play cool instruments and probably smell like Old Spice and I just want to be close to them, is that really too much to ask?
9. A phone that automatically deletes any drunk/stupid/emotional texts I write before I can send them. I thought my brand new iPhone 5 would have a feature that does this, but apparently “smart” phones aren’t actually that smart. Thanks for nothing, Apple.
10. For it to be autumn 11 months of the year. The twelfth month (December) should be snowy and white and perfect leading up to Christmas. Then the rest of the year should be filled with red and golden leaves, crisp air, pumpkin lattes and beautiful sunsets.
So this Christmas wishlist is really just that — a list of wishes. And I have accepted the fact that I can’t have these things. Even so, aren’t we taught by every Christmas movie ever that wishing and believing are the best part of the holiday season? So maybe one day I’ll have a hypoallergenic permanent kitten under my tree, you never know…
You can read more from Madeline Allen on her blog.