Christmas Humbugs #48: Secret Santa

I utterly fail to understand why certain people like this activity so much to the point that they cannot have a complete Christmas experience without it. Recently, some imposing pricks at work made it compulsory for us to join this year’s Secret Santa. For those of you who don’t know what Secret Santa is, it’s the Christmas custom we so fondly refer to as Kris Kringle or Manito-Manita.

As a kid, I used to enjoy this activity a lot. I remember this to be that one activity I always looked forward to in the Christmas parties I participated in. There’s always this thrill to be had in opening presents whether they’re crappy or not. But then again, there are lots of thrills to be had when you’re 11 and below. Times have certainly changed. Over the years, I’ve developed a misanthropic view of this custom, which seems so sad at first but is actually very liberating and rewarding.

For the record, I still enjoy this activity but only if it was in the company of people who actually knew what I was into (that’s what Facebook is for, damn it!) and vice versa. Other than that, I do not participate in this activity at all. It’s not that I don’t like giving stuff away. I’ve actually become more generous over the years. It’s just that this activity is an exercise at poor decision-making considering you’ve made financial investments in it.

Before I proceed, you might argue that “it’s the thought that counts.” On situations outside Secret Santa, I do believe in that phrase. Outside Secret Santa, nobody is compelled to give you anything. If they do give you something, then it must be out of genuine generosity and I find returning the favor much more enjoyable that way. But in Secret effing Santa, participation obligates you to spend in order to receive a gift, thus the dynamic changes and now, we can proceed to why I think this is an exercise at poor decision-making.

Here’s the thing. By virtue of the fact that I am obligated to spend money in order to get something, I now have the right to at least expect my money’s worth. Let’s say for our hypothetical Secret Santa, the price for the gifts should be P200.00. Let’s also consider that the typical circumstance in this activity usually places you in a group of people the majority of which have no clue with regards to the things you like. To be a little bit optimistic, let’s also consider that in that group, there might be a couple of people who do know what you’re into, or that there are some people who would go the extra mile to get you what you want at P200.00.

Essentially, you’re gambling here. What happens is you are spending P200.00 in order to receive a gift which you’re not guaranteed to like. In the event that you do get something that you like, it’s a good gamble; you get your money’s worth. But what if you get something you didn’t like? It’s a bad trade off and a total waste of that P200.00.

Your investment of P200.00 to get your money’s worth lies in the hands of whoever becomes your Secret Santa. If by some good fate your Secret Santa is the resident all-around nice person, then good for you. I’m sure you’ll enjoy those DVD’s he/she went through the trouble of compiling and burning for you. If by some common upshot your Secret Santa is the average Joe who you just smile to but never really talk to at work, then I hope you’ll enjoy the impersonal and exceedingly neutral presents you’re about to receive. Overall, not a good gamble since you already have all the face towels you would need. But the possibilities don’t end there. What if by some misfortune, your Secret Santa is that creep who likes to fool around too much? For your P200.00, you get pink panties! But guess what? You’re a man with huge testicles! How are you supposed to tuck your man-balls in an article of clothing not designed for protruding baby-makers? Again, not a good gamble.

Of course, if you’re among those who don’t mind throwing away money, then go ahead. This activity is definitely for you. Just don’t go around whining why, for some unexplainable reason, you’re always short on cash. But for those who prefer putting every single peso to good use, then we’re better off spending that P200.00 to buy for ourselves exactly what we want for that value.

So, unless it’s in the company of good friends, skip Secret Santa this year and for all the years to come. It’s a gamble not worth taking.

My 2010 Candidates

Its already election period and presidentiables and non-presidentiables are already busy campaigning. Though I don't think I would be able to vote come May, I do have my preferred candidates. I'm still undecided though. Here they are:

For President:

1. Manny Villar - Sipag at Tiyaga. Though C-5 extension controversy hurts his resume.
2. Gilbert Teodoro - Brilliant mind. Seems very ambitious to me by not opting to run for lower positions first.

No Noynoy? I think he's just taking advantage of the people's sympathy following his mother's death.

For Vice - President:

1. Mar Roxas - Had he pursued the Presidency, he would have my vote.
2. Loren Legarda - My ideal Pres-VP tandem would be Mar and Loren respectively. Now I'm torn between the two of them.

Feel free to react.

I Wanna Be a Flight Attendant! (But tiny voice in head says "No")

So I was watching View From the Top (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0264150/ )starring Gwyneth Paltrow a while back, and I suddenly remembered that I once had this dream of becoming a flight attendant, just because people used to tell me (back when I was thinner - if those times ever existed) that my height was fit for it. I honestly toyed with the idea, especially since traveling is a frustration/guilty pleasure of mine. I thought, only a few jobs could let you work AND play at the same time right? And then reality hit me. I can't be a flight attendant. I just can't. And the tiny voice in my head (yes, my tiny voice is a nagger) told me why.

1. I got motion sickness.

I actually never had motion sickness during flights (probably because I love the thought of riding planes), but I get a bad case of it especially with cab rides in Manila. I don't know why, but there's something with the way those drivers transition from releasing the clutch and stepping on the gas pedal. I know there's a slight chance that those drivers could be pilots by day, but times are tough and they could be working part-time. I don't wanna take that risk.

2. I have poor balance inside moving vehicles.

A simple elevator ride could send me from one corner to the other just by picking up an object on a floor. Whenever I have the urge to pee on a flight, I try to hold it as much as I could until we land (I know, it's bad) 'cause I have this fear of tripping on the floor if I walked down the aisle. As we know, flight attendants walk a lot the whole time, and a LULIT (native term for a "wuss") cabin crew won't help.

3. My huge hips are not conducive especially for local planes with smaller spaces.

Believe me, I've gone through so much pain and embarrassing moments with these hips. I literally get bruises because of constant bumping on table edges, chairs, and the like. My patients suddenly rouse from their deep sleep just because my hips hit on something solid no matter how consciously I move. Worse, I get stuck on tiny chairs (and this happens a lot), and it takes some squirming (and a few seconds of utter humiliation) before I could free myself from it. Sure, it's perfect for childbearing and all, but it just doesn't fit the job requirement. Unless, of course, I go international. Bigger aisles, less accidents.

And the list goes on.

After giving it much thought (and feeding myself with negativity), I decided to stick to my profession for now. It's a far cry from the glamorous lifestyle of flight attendants (they never had to monitor poop and vomit for 8 hours), but I'd like to think this is where I truly belong.