05 December 2006

shopping horrors

I'm not sure if it's because I've never had a truly horrible shopping experience, or if my mind is just that good at blocking out bad memories--but I can't really think of any personal horror stories of shopping. Nothing major that would make an interesting anecdote, at any rate.

But dressing rooms have been known to make me nauseous, which leads me to think I may have a minor case of claustrophobia. Basically what sometimes happens is this: I overheat and feel like I might faint or get sick. It doesn't happen all the time, just sometimes. Only I can't recall ever feeling like that in a lavatory stall or lift, so I'm not sure what it is. Maybe I subconsciously just don't enjoy trying on clothes.

... My parents did lose me in department stores when I was younger. Well, my mother likes to say I was playing hide and seek in the clothing racks; but I can clearly recall just losing them on one or two occasions. I would turn around for a minute, something catching my attentively deficient and easily distracted gaze, turn back, and they were gone. And I remember being taken to the lost and found station by some worried passer-by, and having a sales associate page my mother or father. That was kind of horrifying. And, in retrospect, it's horrifying to consider how damned dangerous that situation really was (and can be, even more-so, today).

There's nothing holiday-related in those little factoids, though; and that's making this entry seem like a lost prompt.

On a more holiday-relevant note, I keep receiving e-mails regarding the UPS and USPS updates on certain of my packages for friends and family. All seems to be going well, and no terrible kinks in the works yet. *Knock on wood.* Hopefully things will continue to go according to plan.

Expected shopping horrors ahead are more at my own fault, and less at any peculiar metaphorical department-store lightning bolts from on high. I still have yet to decide what to get from my flat-mates, my grandmothers, and three other friends. Of these seven people, only two have wish lists on Amazon.com.

General cluelessness, combined with the character flaw of chronic indecisiveness, will make this final stretch of holiday shopping my own personal nightmare.

At least I have illicit copies of Torchwood episodes to make it all better at the end of the day. Captain Jack Harkness helps me black out the horrors of shopping.

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