I was trying to be thoughtful.

magazine.pngI was trying to be thoughtful. I like to do so with surprises. I purchased him a gift, a subscription to his favorite weekly magazine, just because I knew he liked it and just because I knew he never would subscribe.

One hundred dollars spent just because. Or maybe spent just because I like a man who reads. Or maybe spent just because I like a man who shares his knowledge of the world with me. Or maybe spent just because I like his vast vocabulary, and I like his word choice creativity and spent just because I want to nourish his mind with high brow print.

Social media cheapened my gift, my thoughtfulness, and me with a $6 promotional offer targeted directly to the man at the address I had just subscribed. Why, oh why! Come on, Facebook! Give me a break!

“It’s the thought that counts” are words people often say when good intentions are received imperfectly. My thought was intercepted by the computers; next, my thought’s context interpreted as a cheap opportunity seized instead of as a generous funding of intellect.

The computers came and plundered; they robbed the air of luxury from my gift; they robbed the air of surprise from my thought.


Money and Come Don’t Grow on Trees

Things were starting to happen. And then again. And then again. And then again. I put down a bet, that they’d happen again, and signed up for a Brazilian bikini wax. And then again. And then again. And then again.

I heard about a 12 month subscription waxing deal that offered well over a hundred dollars in saving for a $400 investment. The savings so real…. the commitment so unsteady, like a waddling toddler’s first steps… I plunged forward and signed up, crossing my fingers, holding my breath, that at the 12th month, at expiration, when the clerk lady would ask me to renew, that I would say yes, without an emotional pit of remorse and shame in my stomach for what might be lost, 12 months in the future, for what I had now that I might be mourning then. I committed to waxing; I committed to him.