We don't do Christmas presents! Not anymore. We actually don't do Christmas anymore. We are an old couple without kids. There is no good reason to clean the house to then mess it up with a tree, the hassle of shopping and cooking and ... and then one has a lot of time around ones hands and decides to go... shopping. Isn't there this lovely new mall where the Olympics will take place? Stratford! Yes, that's it! Let's go!
And then we buy gadgets. Important ones. I actually wanted flat shoes for Lindy Hop lessons. Yes, that's right... FLAT shoes... for me! Unfortunately the trainer insists in flats which I don't really have. I then however, couldn't get myself to buying ugly shoes, so I turned my attention to a wrist watch. Not having worn one in ages I had lost track of the market situation, though.They are either pretty yet impractical, or partly practical but the most ugly, huge monsters imaginable. So I gave up and we entered hubby's temple - the Apple Store.
For some weird reason items of a certain value have to find an allocation to some sort of event, and hence we each got a little something as Christmas pressie. Ha... we are not doing Christmas, my ar..!!
Now: Each present worth its money has to show its value instantly and my Nano touch which works as a wrist watch - who needs Swatch & Co if there are iGadgets - is outshone by hubby's little black box, the 'apple TV'. It's not bigger than a sardine can, but shinier and it hooks up with all sorts of other iDevices to play their content on the telly; additionally it offers a lot of other stuff directly via iTunes... don't ask me details, all I know is that there are a lot of colourful buttons to press and then nice things happen on the screen, some of which cost money. I don't think hubby entirely trusts me in this, he enabled the kid protection allowing shopping access only via password. Hmmm...
So now we watch TED talks on the telly. You should really try that with the one where they bring a real human brain on stage with the spinal cord still attached... gives a whole new dimension to Christmas morning.
I had seen Jill Bolte Taylor's talk about a 'stroke of insigth' before on the computer, but I have to say that it is quite different on the big screen. It now becomes a family experience and being able to talk about it afterwards brings new aspects to the talk. For this particular one this means, that I want to know more about the matter. If I could understand better how these two sides of the brain work together and if indeed my suspicion would be right that hormones are causing havoc there, that might explain why sometimes I feel so bloody unfocused. This is a Christmas pressie that hasn't been invented yet: The iFocus!
Merry Christmas, Dears!
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