Pussycats riding motorbikes in the snow. (Top 10 Christmas Wishlist (2001))

Member Name: MorganaDQ

Product:	Top 10 Christmas Wishlist (2001)
Date:	01/12/01 (96 review reads)
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I don’t do top tens you know. I read them, but I don’t write them. Well ok, until now. There’s no way I could figure out my top ten albums, or books, or films, or anything really, but when you’re given a chance to choose ten things from absolutely anything, well it’s a little difficult to resist, isn’t it.

I could ask for world peace, but we all know it’s not gonna happen. I could ask for a date with the most luverly (yes, it’s a word… MY word) of luverly rock star people, David Bowie, but I think both spouses would have something to say about that. I could ask for a million quid, so I could buy absolutely anything I wanted, so I wouldn’t have to bother with this top ten wish list, but it’s more likely I’d get that playing the lottery. Which let’s face it, is also never gonna happen.

Soooooo, in no particular order, other than they came to mind in this order (or more appropriately, gushed from my mish-mash of a brain, through my fingertips, and onto the keyboard) :

· When we were about six years old, my twin brother and I would send our Sindy and Action Man parachuting down the stairs. See, in my childhood home our staircase twisted round, back on itself, which meant that when you stood up on the landing and looked over the banister, there was just lots of air. Perfect.

But we got bored just parachuting little plastic people with no genitals, so out came the Match Box cars, but they were too small. Then came the teddy bears, but they were too quiet when they landed. So, genius of geniuses, my brother brought out the Etch-A-Sketch. On went the parachute (how he attached it, I don’t think I’ll ever know), then with a twinkle in his eye, and a cry of “Geronimo!”, he let go.

It made a great crashing sound as it hit the floor. The parachute just wasn’t big enough, but who’d have thought it? The poor E
tch-A-Sketch was no longer the same. It etched if you tipped it one way, but it never sketched again.

So, I’d like an Etch-A-Sketch please.

· I’m a huge fan of David Bowie. Anyone who read the first paragraph of this opinion should have figured that out with little or no use of brain power. I have all but two of his albums, and they’re played regularly. I love them all, too, though thankfully I’m not quite so up myself as to try to tell you that I love all of his songs.

But anyway, I’m rambling. We’ve established I’m a fan, so what do I want? Well, ten years ago I used to go to our local Sunday market, and there was a music guy there. Because it was (apparently) so unusual for someone of my age to be buying such ‘intersting’ albums, he remembered me after a few weeks. It got to the stage that he’d see me approach and bring out whichever gems he’d kept back, knowing I’d love them.

He was wonderful. Because of him, I ended up with original albums (e.g., Space Oddity) in excellent condition. But alas, the market didn’t last forever, and neither did the music man.

I’d love nothing more than to have the Bowster’s full back catalogue, all original releases, in vinyl, gatefold sleeves, rare Diamond Dogs and Hunky Dory album covers, in other words, the full works. I tried to buy an original Aladdin Sane album from a previous employer (still complete with additional card for fan club membership, and in mint condition), but he’d have none of it. I can’t say I blame him, either.

· I’m a romantic you know. Not just when it comes to partners, but I have romantic ideals, too. I can’t help it, and I won’t apologise for it.

I love the Christmas season, and I always have. I love the family gatherings, and the approach to Yule and Christmas. I love going out and spending time picking a
gift or two for my relatives and friends. I love walking down our high street at three o’clock in the afternoon, all wrapped up warm and cozy, wandering along with my gloved fingers wrapped around a cup hot chocolate while my nose feels like an ice block. I love window shopping in the early darkness, with the Christmas lights shining down on me and everyone else. I just adore the feeling. And something would make that even more perfect than it already sounds…

… snow. I want snow please. We don’t get much here, being right by the sea, and I miss it sometimes. I like to make snow angels and snowmen. I like having snowball fights with anyone else who’s willing to make an idiot of themselves in public. I love finding a bit of ice and skating along in my great big boots while I hang onto the hubby for dear life. I love going up into the countryside and finding a great big hill to sledge down, so my jeans stick to my legs. I love it all.

So yeah, I’d like some snow this year, please.

· Have you read about my perfect Christmas yet? You haven’t? Shame on you! It’s slushy, you know. And it’s my childhood memories. And the one thing that sticks out above everything else because that’s what it was, and still is, all about for me, is my family.

There are years I’ve dreaded this time of year. I’m one of four children, you see, and we always had these wonderfully busy and exciting Christmas’s when I was little. But we all grew up, and we all (most of us) moved away. So now, sometimes, Christmas means just four of us playing at the festivities. Sitting there at the table, crackers pulled and paper hats on heads, grudgingly reading out the bad jokes and making polite conversation. It’s just not the same.

This year, my twin brother is coming back. Then on boxing day, my sister and her partner are coming back. So all I want now, is f
or my eldest brother to come back, so we can all be together, even just for one day. It’s a long way for him, you see. He lives in Wales and it’s a painfuly long journey, and expensive to boot.

So I’d like all my family together for the day. It would be the best Christmas pressie my folks could hope for, too.

· We’ve got a funny little family here. There’s me and the hubby, of course. But we also have Pawldo, the still adolescent tomcat who has more cunning plans than Baldrick (of Blackadder fame) ever did. We have Lucy, our one-eyed queen who lives for fuss and love, and never lets a day go by without at least a quarter of it being filled with said fuss and love. We have Holly, a beautiful white rat with bright red eyes who’s too much the scaredy rat to do anything but curl up inside my sweater when she’s out of her cage. And finally, we have Pepper, Holly’s sister. She’s just as beautiful a rat, but is explorer and trouble-maker of the family… blink and she’s gone.

Recently, though, we’ve had another creature try to make his home with us. It’s another cat.. He’s been a stray for the past four years from all accounts, and has quite happily nipped in, stolen some food, and run away again. But it’s getting colder now, and for the past month he’s been sleeping in the kitchen, by the radiator. Our two cats don’t like him very much, but they’re tolerating him.

We’ve tried to get the RSPCA to take him, but they’re full and are trying to clear space ready for the inevitable post Christmas dumping of unwanted animals. We tried the Cats Protection, too, but they just don’t want to take him. No excuses, no messing about, they simply said no. The Cat Orphanage have three phone numbers, but every time I ring I never get an answer, and no answer machine, either. I’ve given up on them, completely
.

We put a collar on him with our phone number, asking people to contact us, in the hope someone will claim him or want him, but we’ve had no response yet. We’re going to put notices up in vets and shop windows, so he’ll hopefully go free to a good home. See, we can’t afford to keep him, and it would be very irresponsible of us to try. But he’s so lovely and friendly when he gets to know you, and he deserves to have a happy, loving home.

So, I’d like to find a permanent home for this poor, unwanted cat, please.

· I’ve discovered eBay. Oh, I tried to avoid it, but I’d heard so much about it that I couldn’t help myself. I went, I saw, I joined.

I tried to resist looking in all my favourite catagories, knowing it would be fatal, but again I couldn’t help myself. I’ve not bought much though, I can be thankful for that. I’ve mainly bought some pressies for people, so it can’t be all bad, right? Right!

But, we have a house full of junk. Some of it’s horrible junk, but some is nice junk. You know, quality junk that other people might not consider to be junk at all. I’m sure you get my drift. I’ve sold a handful of things on eBay, thankfully. But I want to sell more.

So, my sixth wish is to winter clean the house, pile everything onto eBay, and watch it all sell like hot cakes. Well, I need to fund the season somehow, how else do you think we do it???

· I love bikes. Great big, roaring motorbikes. There’s no sound quite like a Harley roaring down the road towards you. You can hear it long before you can see it, and it’s just wonderful.

I’ve been called a “biker’s moll” before now. I was never sure whether to take it as an insult or a compliment. But anyway, I love the bike rallies, especially the local one that’s held every May. Sometimes I have
a stall doing henna body art, sometimes I marshal, and sometimes I just go and veg out. But whatever I do when I’m there, the best thing about the whole weekend is the ride out.

Have you ever sat in a transit van behind a few hundred bikers, and just watch them stretch out in front of you? It’s one of the best sites I think I’ve ever seen, and ever will. It fills you with a tremendous sense of pride, whether you’re a biker yourself or not.

One day, I’ve promised myself, I’m going to be one of those few hundred bikers. Ever since I first witnessed it for myself, I vowed I’d be amongst them one day. And I will. But I need two things first.

Yep, I need to learn how to ride a motorbike, for one. Of course, actually owning one would help, too. But, that’s a long way away, I reckon.

So for now, I’d like to learn how to ride a motorbike, and get my license, please.

· I’m 27, you know. I am, but you wouldn’t think it to look at my un-dyed hair. I blame my Dad, simply because he’s the only one left to blame.

I started going grey when I was 20 years old. So did my sister and two brothers, for that matter. But the last few months have seen the percentage of grey rise dramatically. I envisage waking up one morning in the not too distant future, to find that I just have this head of pure white hair, and despite appearances apparently not being important (yeah, right), it scares me a little.

So, I dye my hair. I’ve dyed my hair for the last ten years, except for a little while where I decided to try my natural colour again. It lasted all of about a month, when I realised just how dull my natural colour is.

It gets tiring, you know. Time and time again having to put on those under-sized thin plastic gloves, and pasting gunge onto your head. Leave it for thirty minutes and hope like hell the colour is what it’s
supposed to be, and not green like your nightmares show you. And then, when it’s all rinsed away, having to put up with the awful chemically-perfumed stench for however long it takes to wash it out, knowing that you only have a few weeks of overpowering smell-free hair left before you need to do it all over again.

So, I’d like my hair to be the colour I want it to be, forever and ever, please, with no chemical applications being necessary.

· You know, there’s one thing that’s always annoyed other people about me more than anything else. And I know that as soon as you’ve read this, you’re gonna hate me for it, too. I’m not even sure I should tell you, but I’ve started now. And besides, I kinda like gloating about it.

I have never, ever had a hangover. I can hear you sat there, seething, you know. I can hear the swearing under your breath and the wishing that you could be like that, too. I can hear it all, because I’ve heard it all before. I know.

So my ninth wish has got to be that I’ll continue to never get a hangover, however many cocktails I drink, or however many shots of tequila slip down my throat. I want to be able to get as drunk as I want this year, and every year to come, without fear of suffering the following day. I want to know that I’ll be able to sit in front of a plate of greasy fry-up and not want to spill my guts up. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I won’t actually eat the fry-up, I just like to know I can be in the same rom and not want to barf.

So, no hangovers forever, please.

· I live right on the coast, you know. A mile and a half down the road, I can be stood on the beach, looking out to sea. I can stand there and feel the fresh sea breeze tighten my skin, have the salt from the sea tease my nostrils and tastebuds as I breathe in, roll the grains of sand between my fingers, and have the crashing of the wav
es echoing inside my head.

It’s wonderful, even in winter. Sometimes it’s wonderful ‘especially’ in winter, because the waves crash harder and the breeze turns into wind, and everything I described above is multiplied. And I love it.

I moved away from this area when I went to Uni. For two years I couldn’t wander down to the beach and just be, and thinking back to that time, it stifled me. I didn’t know it back then, but it was one of the things that made me so miserable. I didn’t have a special place to go and think, and just enjoy for it’s simplicity yet at the same time, it’s magnificance.

I don’t expect anyone who’s not been around it much to understand. I know some will, and some will try, but until you’ve opened yourself up and let it fill you, I don’t think you can ever really know just how special it can be.

So, my final wish would be to never have to move away from here again. Circumstances are increasingly looking like we’ll have to, but I wish for us both, myself and my husband, not to have to leave the place behind which gives us (though, more me) such happiness.



I’ve been a little soppy in some of this, haven’t I? I didn’t expect to, it just kind of happened, you know? As it does.

I know some of these things I can bring to life myself, and some I can’t. For those I can, I wish most of all for the strength and motivation to bring them together, and for those I can’t, I wish for the ability to accept that I can’t change them.

I can carry my seaside memories in my heart wherever I go, I can give the stray cat all the love I have until he finds another home, and I can cherish any time I get with my family, whether we’re all together at the same time or not. So parts of these will always come true.

I want a final wish, though. To wish that eve
ryone can see what they want and need, and to be able to recognise the difference, and to have the strength to go out and get that which they truly deserve.

And now, I’ll shut up and let you go and do whatever it is you were going to do before I turned all mushy on you ;)

Oh, and Seasons Greetings to you all :)

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