Wonder how many of you guys clicked because of that promise? But seriously, I plagiarized this title from a legitimate article in Men’s Health. More on being an idiot later though.
I don’t know about you guys, but in my family.. your christmas list deserves months of pre-planning and preparation and presentation.
…Ok, that’s not true. I am actually the only person who does this in my family. But they’ve learned to expect it.
And as of today, I still have not received anyone in my immediate family’s christmas list. This is not entirely shocking. However, I on the other hand, sent mine weeks ago. This is also not shocking.
My parents and brother don’t put the significant amount of effort into their list that I do. I plan for months. I gather information and stalk certain websites and take copious notes in my head so that by the time THE LIST (and yes, it does deserve all caps) is completed.. it is nothing short of a christmas wishing masterpiece.
I don’t screw around here. I don’t even suggest things to my parents if I think it will interfere with what I deem to be the most coveted things on said list. Eyes on a very specific prize. (Granted for several years in a row I asked for a puppy and a baby sister. Neither of which I got so maybe I should have set my prize-sights elsewhere.)
And I don’t do any of that “surprise me” crap anymore either. I learned my lesson after I got like 4 sets of towels one year and after the third towel in a row, I made a solid mental note.. that surprise me usually ends in “things you need” .. like socks. Blurgh.
So yeah.. I’m a tad materialistic and occasionally superficial and shallow. At least I’m female enough to admit it. But to me gift-giving is pretty much my favorite thing next to puppies and rainbows. I don’t just get ecstatic about receiving gifts, I love giving them too. In fact, I love making people happy with the perfect offering so much that I rarely can keep my mouth shut or hold off from giving it to them before the alloted time. I just love that look of joy.
As an example of this– last year I found my brother a fake ID and I gave it to him for christmas. I was more excited about him getting it I think than he was. I actually screamed when he found it. I knew what was coming but I was just so excited that I couldn’t contain myself. This is not the first time this has happened.
So in lieu, of the christmas atmosphere I have spent many days (weeks really) searching for gifts for my family without really knowing what they want. And tonight, I told myself– enough dicking around Meg. It’s time to get to work. It’s time to whip out some plastic and demonstrate what your capable of and bring some people some joy. (this was not meant to be an underlying phallic joke but alas, occasionally my humor heads south.)
Anyway, after spending the past couple hours attempting to find gifts for members of my family that will speak volumes of my originality and inner knowledge of who they really are, I have come to a couple conclusions.
The first- I have no idea what anyone in my family wants. I seriously give up. Like every other person in America and the free world, I will buy them what I want for them. And let them quietly return it later.
The second involves the exhorbinant amount of time I just spent on GQ and Men’s Health magazine websites. My thoughts are as such: These are men’s magazines. When I look at a woman’s magazine, I want pretty much everything everyone inside is wearing, making, doing etc. Thus, I took this same idea and applied it to a men’s magazine. There’s a reason they are still in publication. They must be doing SOMETHING right. And so in theory, there must be something on either of these websites that my father/brother would like. RIGHT?
And this might have worked. Had I not gotten so very distracted with headlines such as SEDUCE ANY WOMAN YOU WANT and SHAVING TIPS ON HOW TO GET STUBBLE LIKE CLOONEY. And I thought to myself, Wow! I have stumbled onto a gold mine of valuable information here. This is what men read! I am in the enemy’s headquarters! I have their bible! Why are they letting me look at this? Why have I never thought of this before?
(one hour later)
What. the. hell. is. this. bullshit…!?
Guys, seriously? Never tell a girl you love her eyelashes in an effort to sleep with her. You’re better than that. And ok, maybe if she’s had like four hefty vodka tonics and can’t stand up straight and is hanging on to your tie for support and keeps calling you Jimmy when your name is Jeff. THEN, you can tell her she has pretty eyelashes. Hell, you could probably tell her she has pretty anything at that point and you’d have that cat in the bag. Figuratively speaking of course.
And I’m sorry but you can’t date your best friend’s ex-girlfriend if you still want your best friend. Even after downloading the four page document giving you details how to do so. This will fail. Listen to me:
This. Will. Fail.
And just because we (as in women) all love Chuck Bass..
(seriously we do LOVE him)
does not mean YOU can walk around with tweed jackets and handkerchiefs in your blazer. Seriously, please don’t. We understand the difference between fantasy and reality. And even though GQ says go for it, I’m going to put the breaks on this little idea right now. Go look in the mirror and ask yourself these questions. Do you own half the real estate in New York? Do you drive around in a limo? Do you date the most infamous bitch on the upper-east side? No? Then take off the fedora, Calvin Klein. We like you better in a t-shirt anyway.
And so on and so forth.
After I spent about an hour reading about what women want and how to turn us on and the perfect pick-up line .. I never, ever want to hear another guy make fun of me for reading Cosmo ever again. Seriously?! This is MAN-COSMO. This is COS-MAN. You’re reading the same bull-shit we are fellas. It just has a piece of steak and a bulldog where we like a pretty diamond necklace and a perfume sample. And I’m sorry to kill Santa Claus and everything but just like the perfect blow-out won’t make us look anything like Jennifer Aniston, you’re pathetic attempt at facial hair won’t ever hold a candle to looking like the perfection George Clooney has created for society. He’s George Clooney. Come on!
So yeah, I mean it was sort of informative. I learned how to grill a steak and how to roast a pig (both of which are super useful considering I’m a vegetarian) and that laptops are destroying your sperm count and the sexiest woman of the year in GQ is Mila Kunis which is a HUGE shocker considering how much endorsement GQ probably put into Friends with Benefits starring Ms. Woman of the year. But I mean yeah, I’d date her. So I understand.
It also made me ask myself some really important internal questions.
Like has a guy ever tried that line on me?
Did it work?
(Answer: Is he hot? Then yes, perhaps it did. At least short-term)
And would I ever pose topless in a magazine?
(If I looked like Jennifer Aniston? Yes. Obviously. Duh? If I looked like that I would just walk around naked everywhere. Just because I could. Forever.)
And if there is ever a situation that I’d have a three-some?
(No. Never. Absolutely not. Gross.)
…Wait do I get to pick who’s present?
Ok… well, no. Still gross.
More seriously though..Yes, I read Cosmopolitan, and Shape and People and blah blah blah, and I thoroughly enjoy each experience. But I’m not an idiot (most of the time) and I realize that a lot of magazine-journalism is pretty words and interesting layouts and essentially the same BS they sold to me in the last magazine. I guess I just always thought that men’s magazines carried a little more validity. I’m not entirely sure why I thought this- it’s possible I am a little sexist toward my own sex by thinking we are the more easily duped gender because APPARENTLY, men are on the same page (no pun intended) in terms of magazine manipulation.
Because we all do it right? We see it in print with pictures and bold fonts and think, well if they say I can.. And sometimes, that’s good. I’m all about getting out of your comfort zone- but let’s be real here. Sometimes, it’s applicable and possible in real life and sometimes, it’s George Clooney in a tweed blazer.
And there’s a difference.
Anyway, while I’m still idealess and giftless, at least I’m not brainless in regards to men now! I hope someone uses the eyelash line on me this weekend so I can go weak in the knees and fall into a seduced trance.
And then I can look up the Top Ten Sports-Related Funny Comments to say to Cute Guys in my Cosmo and say something witty and smart about Tim Tebow and then we can both laugh at how lucky we are that we found such flattering and clever individuals at 1 AM at a sports bar. Teehee.
Magazine manipulation, ladies and gentlemen, is clearly not a gender specific issue.
Speaking of issues, I just got the latest catalogue to basically every one of my favorite stores on the Plaza and I have some work to do in the regard because at least I can take comfort knowing I know what I like to buy for myself. Though apparently, the same can not be said for members of my family. So… looks like you’re getting a tweed blazer, little brother.
In other news.. I found a job. 🙂
..But that’s something we will have to unwrap on a later date.