Making Gifts

This year I made a gift for someone that I met who has become very special to me. The idea behind making gifts seems like a good one. Unless you're a bit shit at crafts. Then you should buy a gift card. But that doesn't really convey the appreciation I have for him and how much he's helped me this year. I had hoped to give it to him for his birthday in April but turns out I am lazy. Plus I feel like April came around way too quickly this year. I mean just last year I was young and then all of sudden, my birthday hit in April and I was old. That's never happened before.

So, I finally got my shit together, well almost, and it's nearly done. I've been working on the accompanying note because it kind of has to come with a warning. I think the below conveys my thoughts adequately.

Dear X,

I made you a gift. I know what you're thinking - macrame pot plant holder, fabulous, just what you've always wanted. So now I've disappointed you because it's not actually that. 

And let me be the first to assure you that if you hate it, you can put it in the garage, basement, study or downstairs loo which is where all the crap craft generally ends up. I won't be offended. And if you say "Oh how interesting*", I'll know you are really thinking "This is not interesting at all, does anyone have any cake?"

First of all, this thing is really heavy so I'm going to need some help getting it out of the car when I drop it off. Second of all, some of the color might come off. On your clothes. So bring an apron to help me get it out of the car. And finally, it's really sharp in some spots. No joke, this thing will cut you, bitch**. To summarize, I'm giving you a heavy, dirty, razor-sharp dangerous cutty thing as a gift. So that sounds nice, doesn't it?

Oh and by the way, you can't put anything in it that will leak water. It will ruin it but slowly and then it will just make the relationship awkward and I'll have to go somewhere else for Yoga.

Thanks again!

Love me xx

*See Monday
**Don't really mean you are a bitch, I'm just trying to convey the sense of how sharp and dangerous this thing is. While making it I sustained multiple injuries and went through a lot of band-aids. Talk about blood, sweat and tears - all of these things are literally part of your gift. No poop though.

PS to everyone else: Don't tell him what it is because I haven't quite finished yet and I need the option to give it to him for his 2015 Birthday.  Just in case things don't go well - it's possible the cuts all over my hands will get infected and not heal.  I think it's pretty obvious what it is, so don't mention this, ok?

Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

Writing in diaries is boring. It feels like a good idea and then you start and after "Dear Diary", that's all you have. Kind of like a bath. A bath sounds like a nice, warm idea and then once it's full, you get in and then you're hot and bored.

I like those diaries that have a section in the beginning for you to fill out all your details. I have a lot of those. And some spare paper at the back.

I think you're supposed to write down your feelings and then it's supposed to help. Let's try. I am mad. No. Didn't help.

Maybe I'm supposed to confess my secret crush to my diary? Can my diary do anything about it? Will you stop me from calling and texting him until he realizes I'm normal? Will you stop me from falling in love with someone I can't have and then eating 10x the suggested serving size? No. Ergo, useless. I rest my case.

Dear Diary - a bit later in the day:

I thought I had a new feeling but it turned out to be gas.

Dear Diary - 10 minutes since last entry:

Nothing has happened since I last wrote to you. I could make something up if you like? I mean lets face it, it's not like you'll know if it's true. I think you've been given too much power over the years. All this writing to you that people do has given you a fat head. Because you're actually just a paper book with no useful advice and you don't deliver cupcakes. Also you are wet and soggy. That might be my fault. Shouldn't have tried to write in my boring diary while sitting in my boring bath. 

But somewhere out there, somebody is thinking of you and the tremendous influence you had on their life that led to all their successes.  But it's not me...I think you're boring.

Dear Diary - 4 years later:

Sorry, it's been a while but I didn't have anything interesting to tell you.  And then today while I was at work, we talked about getting additional training and taking some courses and we were asked to submit our requests for consideration.  So I asked for helicopter lessons. But apparently we don't offer that kind of training, because that has nothing to do with our jobs.  I feel like that wasn't made clear and have now had to cross numbers 2, 3, 4, and 7 off my list.  Turns out ninja training, crocheting (although I would have been happy with macrame), blind hanging and making macaroons are not up for consideration.  However, I can learn to use Excel if necessary.  Which it is not, I am as good at Excel as I am at Math.  And don't even get me started on computer skills.  I use that mousey thing every day. I know that to reboot, you turn it off and on at the wall and when it stops working, you kick it.

Actually on reflection, nothing really happened.