My Birthday Wishlist
There was a point in my life where I stopped wanting things for my birthday. Or at least, stopped publicly declaring that I wanted things. I guess my conscience deemed the act too selfish, too materialistic, and despite my best efforts to shoo those thoughts away, they always prevailed.
As a result, I hardly ever got gifts. I became known as The Guy You Don't Have To Get A Present For Because A Simple Text Makes Him Happy.
Well screw that. As I inch towards my mid-30s this year, I realize that I am slowly sailing towards the Realm of Old Age, and it's a proven fact that old people don't get gifts at all. I think this is because old people prefer to forget their birthdays because they think acknowledging it validates how old they really are, and that's a depressing thing.
You see it's like this- when we're young, we can't wait to get older: "Man, I can't wait to turn 18 so I can drink and smoke and be as cool as Corey Haim in License To Drive."
And then it's "Man, I can't wait to be in my twenties so that I can stay out all night and have my own place and not have to have sex in a parked car anymore."
As a result, we eagerly look forward to our birthdays, celebrating each bash with style and aplomb, possibly even throwing in a few costume parties in between. What better way to announce to the world that we're young, hot, and paychecked than by ledge dancing in a toga outfit in front of 300 of our closest friends?
Then we hit 25 and suddenly we're like "Waaaaitaminute. In five years I'll be THIRTY? SHIT." The panic that ensues results in us spending our birthdays "quietly", usually an "intimate dinner" with 2 of our closest friends (who are often the same age and thus feel our pain). It's almost as if by celebrating quietly, the world won't notice and will always remember the legendary 24-year old toga-clad ledge dancing you.
I used to have this mentality till I spent my 30th birthday on a plane. Alone, en route back to Manila to deal with some very sad news. On that trip, I thought about how trivial my birthday was that day in the current scheme of things. It was, at that moment, just another day and I didn't mind at all if people forgot to greet me.
But when I got home, I was immediately approached by my family with a hug and a "happy birthday Carl." While I did not receive a single present that day, the best gift was being in the presence of people I loved. Despite all the turmoil that clouded that entire week, I still had people who remembered me on the day I was born.
Ironically, it took the passing of someone to make me really value the importance of celebrating my day of birth, and celebrating life as a whole. As we get older, we are so afraid of aging that we forget to live, and it doesn't have to be that way.
And so, on the year I turn 33 (look how fearless I've said it), I choose to spend the day with the people closest to me. I want it to be a good day, and I know it will be regardless of what the weather outside is like. Typhoon Milenyo could suddenly appear over Homebush Bay and it wouldn't matter because I will be with people who value me and put up with my jokes and love me enough to tell me that my lamb roast rocked even if it really didn't.
And, with fingers crossed, here's what I am hoping they will get me, because I now believe that once a year, it's perfectly okay to be selfish:
1) A pair of sunnies, since I lost mine in a cab recently. That stung because it is extremely difficult to find shades that match my abnormally small elf-like face.
2) Jeans. Two pairs of dark, nice-fitting jeans. No skinny jeans please, as I am too bow-legged and too happy to look emo.
3) A nice pair of leather shoes. Because I think that maybe if I wear them with item number 2, I might finally look decent enough to get into some proper clubs.
4) A new lens for my camera. My 18-200mm is currently out of commission thanks to a large dose of Port Stephens sand.
5) A new winter coat- I have been using the same coat for so long that it was in fashion, went out of fashion, and is now back in style again. Nevertheless, I think I need a new one.
6) A Wii- What better way to emphasize my alpha male status at home than by punishing my housemates repeatedly in Wii Tennis?
7) An iPhone. I don't really need one, but as a Mac whore, this is my current default lust gadget.
8) Things for my car. Ah yes. My new (second hand) car, who I have affectionately named Tonks (short for Tonka). I never used to be a "car guy" but in a karmic twist of fate I am now as obsessed with my ride as much as the gearheads I used to ridicule. It must be the novelty of finally owning a car again after four long years. In any case, I like being a Car Guy. And so for Tonks I would like:
A pair of subwoofers, and I need this ASAP, while the Boots With The Furrrr song is still relevant.
A GPS- because the sound of a robotic female voice telling you where to go is kinda hot.
A lifetime supply of Hungry Hippos- It's no joke getting a 17-year old car smelling like new again. After countless hours vacuuming and spraying and scrubbing, I've finally gotten Tonks to not smell like a damp foot, and I have every intention of keeping it that way. So, those fantastic odour eaters would be a very welcome gift.
Tools- every man's car needs a tool kit. We may not ever know the purpose of a 3/4" Sprocket Wrench, but at least we have that peace of mind driving down the highway that in the back seat, we do have a 3/4" Sprocket Wrench.
A bad ass flashlight- The uses of a flashlight in a man's car are infinite. We can search for things that we've dropped under the seats, signal to other drivers to let us know we've stalled, but most importantly, we can use the flashlight to make it seem like we actually know what we're doing when we open the hood and try to figure out what's wrong. Whether or not we can fix it doesn't matter, because by then we would have impressed the girls enough. An example:
An empty cold desert highway. Night. Carl is driving Tonks when suddenly, it stalls noisily and comes to a complete stop. Carl and Bryan step out, looking concerned. Bryan pops the hood and smoke billows out. In the distance, a dingo howls.
Monica (from the back seat): Oh no, we're miles away from the nearest town. What are we going to do?
Cat: Relax Mon. The guys have got it covered.
Monica: What makes you say that?
Cat: Because they've got...flashlights.
On cue, Carl and Bry switch on their flashlights and begin pointing at random stuff.
Carl: So what do we do?
Bry: I dunno man. Just keep pointing.
Carl: Okay. (Pause) So do you think we need the 3/4" Sprocket Wrench?
The End.
As a result, I hardly ever got gifts. I became known as The Guy You Don't Have To Get A Present For Because A Simple Text Makes Him Happy.
Well screw that. As I inch towards my mid-30s this year, I realize that I am slowly sailing towards the Realm of Old Age, and it's a proven fact that old people don't get gifts at all. I think this is because old people prefer to forget their birthdays because they think acknowledging it validates how old they really are, and that's a depressing thing.
You see it's like this- when we're young, we can't wait to get older: "Man, I can't wait to turn 18 so I can drink and smoke and be as cool as Corey Haim in License To Drive."
And then it's "Man, I can't wait to be in my twenties so that I can stay out all night and have my own place and not have to have sex in a parked car anymore."
As a result, we eagerly look forward to our birthdays, celebrating each bash with style and aplomb, possibly even throwing in a few costume parties in between. What better way to announce to the world that we're young, hot, and paychecked than by ledge dancing in a toga outfit in front of 300 of our closest friends?
Then we hit 25 and suddenly we're like "Waaaaitaminute. In five years I'll be THIRTY? SHIT." The panic that ensues results in us spending our birthdays "quietly", usually an "intimate dinner" with 2 of our closest friends (who are often the same age and thus feel our pain). It's almost as if by celebrating quietly, the world won't notice and will always remember the legendary 24-year old toga-clad ledge dancing you.
I used to have this mentality till I spent my 30th birthday on a plane. Alone, en route back to Manila to deal with some very sad news. On that trip, I thought about how trivial my birthday was that day in the current scheme of things. It was, at that moment, just another day and I didn't mind at all if people forgot to greet me.
But when I got home, I was immediately approached by my family with a hug and a "happy birthday Carl." While I did not receive a single present that day, the best gift was being in the presence of people I loved. Despite all the turmoil that clouded that entire week, I still had people who remembered me on the day I was born.
Ironically, it took the passing of someone to make me really value the importance of celebrating my day of birth, and celebrating life as a whole. As we get older, we are so afraid of aging that we forget to live, and it doesn't have to be that way.
And so, on the year I turn 33 (look how fearless I've said it), I choose to spend the day with the people closest to me. I want it to be a good day, and I know it will be regardless of what the weather outside is like. Typhoon Milenyo could suddenly appear over Homebush Bay and it wouldn't matter because I will be with people who value me and put up with my jokes and love me enough to tell me that my lamb roast rocked even if it really didn't.
And, with fingers crossed, here's what I am hoping they will get me, because I now believe that once a year, it's perfectly okay to be selfish:
1) A pair of sunnies, since I lost mine in a cab recently. That stung because it is extremely difficult to find shades that match my abnormally small elf-like face.
2) Jeans. Two pairs of dark, nice-fitting jeans. No skinny jeans please, as I am too bow-legged and too happy to look emo.
3) A nice pair of leather shoes. Because I think that maybe if I wear them with item number 2, I might finally look decent enough to get into some proper clubs.
4) A new lens for my camera. My 18-200mm is currently out of commission thanks to a large dose of Port Stephens sand.
5) A new winter coat- I have been using the same coat for so long that it was in fashion, went out of fashion, and is now back in style again. Nevertheless, I think I need a new one.
6) A Wii- What better way to emphasize my alpha male status at home than by punishing my housemates repeatedly in Wii Tennis?
7) An iPhone. I don't really need one, but as a Mac whore, this is my current default lust gadget.
8) Things for my car. Ah yes. My new (second hand) car, who I have affectionately named Tonks (short for Tonka). I never used to be a "car guy" but in a karmic twist of fate I am now as obsessed with my ride as much as the gearheads I used to ridicule. It must be the novelty of finally owning a car again after four long years. In any case, I like being a Car Guy. And so for Tonks I would like:
A pair of subwoofers, and I need this ASAP, while the Boots With The Furrrr song is still relevant.
A GPS- because the sound of a robotic female voice telling you where to go is kinda hot.
A lifetime supply of Hungry Hippos- It's no joke getting a 17-year old car smelling like new again. After countless hours vacuuming and spraying and scrubbing, I've finally gotten Tonks to not smell like a damp foot, and I have every intention of keeping it that way. So, those fantastic odour eaters would be a very welcome gift.
Tools- every man's car needs a tool kit. We may not ever know the purpose of a 3/4" Sprocket Wrench, but at least we have that peace of mind driving down the highway that in the back seat, we do have a 3/4" Sprocket Wrench.
A bad ass flashlight- The uses of a flashlight in a man's car are infinite. We can search for things that we've dropped under the seats, signal to other drivers to let us know we've stalled, but most importantly, we can use the flashlight to make it seem like we actually know what we're doing when we open the hood and try to figure out what's wrong. Whether or not we can fix it doesn't matter, because by then we would have impressed the girls enough. An example:
An empty cold desert highway. Night. Carl is driving Tonks when suddenly, it stalls noisily and comes to a complete stop. Carl and Bryan step out, looking concerned. Bryan pops the hood and smoke billows out. In the distance, a dingo howls.
Monica (from the back seat): Oh no, we're miles away from the nearest town. What are we going to do?
Cat: Relax Mon. The guys have got it covered.
Monica: What makes you say that?
Cat: Because they've got...flashlights.
On cue, Carl and Bry switch on their flashlights and begin pointing at random stuff.
Carl: So what do we do?
Bry: I dunno man. Just keep pointing.
Carl: Okay. (Pause) So do you think we need the 3/4" Sprocket Wrench?
The End.
posted by Carlo Ledesma at 10:32 AM
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