The Xkzule Letter

Hello, all.
To further irritate the religious right, I have now determined that the season traditionally associated in America with quasi-religious holidays which all focus in one aspect or another around family/presents will not be called Chrismahaunakwanzaayule, my last years' takeoff on the Verizon wireless commercial that left out the oldest of all the solstice observances. If they don't like "Xmas", "holidays" or "season", let them get a load of Xkzule, the new moniker for the season I am going to be discussing. Every place you see this non-phonic string of syllables, just plug in the name of the observance you'll be observing around the end of December. Yes, it's ridiculous, but so is the current state of affairs on cable news, which I had the (mis)fortune to watch last night; the "War on Christmas" is not news. Fighting about how best to wish that people get through the winter without killing each other in a northern-hemispheral fit of seasonal affective disorder is like fucking for chastity. There is no war on Christmas; it's a smoke screen to keep you from noticing the real war that's damaging America's values, people! But, pre-rant and gift advice, first, a status report.

Reconnection of my very own cable modem, which I tend to worship as Devi on that day, is imminent; waiting on the bank to do its thing with funds availability, and then for ComCast to get their hind ends to my house. When I have an ETA from the latter, I will tell you guys, but not hold my breath.

In the meantime, I am shopping like a Tri Delt on steroids.

I am not really a shopping person most of the time. I always know what I want, and go and get it, without dilly-dallying overmuch to see what else there might be. I get that impulse out using the searches on Amazon, Half.com, and eBay. And there's that money thing, too.

But the festive season of consumerism is nigh, and I have the lovely feeling of having all my bills settled or in the process of being settled until the New Year. Which means I have some cash to throw around this holiday. And I love, love, love to give presents. It's the best kind of being bossy: "I bought you something I know you'll love and wouldn't get for yourself: now, enjoy it!" And I genuinely do try to get people things they will enjoy and not impose my taste on them. With one exception: books.

I am a book pusher. Not everyone on my list gets books, but it's a near thing. The two year old nephew? Is not getting another piece of plastic shit, nor is he being shopped for at any place with -Mart or R'Us in the suffix. Along with (at last count) five of the other people on my list, his Xkzule gift is coming from Ms. B's Used Books, the best little used bookstore still fighting the tide of things with A-Million and Dot-Com in their suffix.* And I love the latter, if not the former, but seriously; if you want to have independent bookstores, you have to use your dollar there, especially around Xkzule. This public service announcement brought to you by the Ministry of Completely Obvious Yet Often Overlooked Facts.

Since he's not old enough to read and my sister doesn't read the blog, I'll tell you what he's getting (and what the library is getting also; link goes to Pamie's library drive info, which you can use to support Oakland, your local, or even a random library picked off Amazon's published wishlists): Where the Wild Things Are and Harold & The Purple Crayon, which is on its 50th anniversary edition. Nothing like the pure classics. And, because they were so cute, I got him a pair of frog house shoes.

I'm considering the adult members of my family with some trepidation, because they are hard, hard, hard to buy for. And, even though my sister and brother in law are expecting another fetus, I don't want to cop out and get them a baby present. They deserve something for them. What, is the question; I've about exhausted the options over the past four years, and one of those years I got them, at their request, a Home Depot gift card because they were remodeling the kitchen.

Mom is simple: she gets a teapot from me every year, I found a glass ornament at a vintage repro place that is almost identical to one I broke the Xkzule I was seven, which is just the right level of sentimentality for her, and I'll find her a devotional book of some kind. Dad is impossible. Last year I got him some small present and donated a book in his name, which I may do again.

Our big plans to procure a new Xbox for our friends' husband in Iraq didn't go, so he's getting a huge box of candy and magnets (don't ask me; he asked for them and now we're on the hunt for the coolest magnets possible) and DVDs and crazy stuff, because pretty much all his friends here are sending his presents in one giant box. My buddy in Iraq would approve of the Xzkule phenom, because he's just an atheist who likes presents.

At the very least, although I doubt any other great happening like the war ending or America collectively coming to its senses will occur this Xkzule, two things will happen; the people I love will be happy, lots of them will be reading, the library will have new books for children to read, and there will be more goodness in the world, on whatever microscopic scale.

And, since I have money, I've bought a few things for myself; new murtis, a new book on Vajrayogini, a new headwrap, and a hanging to put over my window. That last was absolutely necessary, as there is a draft from that window right onto my bed. Everything else was pure, unadulterated joy at having money for things other than gas, food, rent and cigarettes.

Here's hoping you have fabulous joy in the preseason, and that I have Internet before the New Year. Namas'te!

*I don't know why it's coming up as LA Citysearch; Ms. B's is in Hendersonville, TN.