What bananas don’t want

Commentary

by Adventures of Miss ViVi Gold

There was one thing I was sure of this year: the present I wanted for Christmas. I came up with all the legitimate excuses to console myself that this was the be all and end all of necessary fun, currently absent from my life.

The must-have object, as is always the case, came in a sleek box and cost something in the range of the three digits. Previously decried as the quintessential boy object (make that previously synonymous to the middle ages, mind you), I became possessed with having this perfect little companion on my piece of furniture. To dust off and to show off, surely. Let’s face it girls, calling something “boys only” is so last century. The broiling feminist inside me wanted to win this one out.

So I worked myself up, and hinted lightly at first, throwing in a word or two, followed by a smile. Who me? A present? Don’t be silly! Well if you really want to buy me something so much then sure go ahead and get me a ————. Never serious, but totally so. As Christmas day neared, I followed a more persistent approach: I started browsing accessories to go with said possession, as though I already owned it. Anyone heard of positive thinking? Invented by me, I assure you. Did it work? Hell, yeah! I know this because quite unsuspectingly, without having the thing, I felt like I did already. I even window shopped for it, I acted like I had it and I had it — in my head. And with having, comes overuse, and with overuse comes boredom. And then a new resolute: NOT to own this stupid object. EVER.

As I marked it clearly on my 2011 resolution list, I was thankful for everyone around me who paid me no mind. All the presents under the tree where things I never asked for, and I still have lots of time before boredom sets in.

Happy new year everyone!

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And so this is Christmas

Commentary

The word’s out that:┬áIt’s too hot for Xmas. What tree, what presents, what festive spirit in short-sleeves and a mini skirt? This is not Australia! This is Cyprus, everyone mutters fatalistically. It’s the end of the world as we know it. Ho, ho, ho.

If I hear it one more time, I’m pretty sure I’m going to act out as the panda in the Panda cheese commercial. Can we puh-lease move on to other things we can whine about? I get wrinkles just listening to this pathetic patter!

Let’s focus on the good things, like the Christmas tree competitions around supermarkets and municipalities. This year carols have been replaced by frenzied supermarket ads on TV and radio. My mailbox has no Christmas cards, but dizzyingly colorful leaflets with the best offers on meat and decorations and toilet paper. Everyone’s priorities du saison are quite apparent here, it seems. If I hadn’t done my DIY Chrismas cards with fabric, it would have been tempting to cut them out and reincarnate them on thick cardboard as multi-colored Christmas trees and funky Santas.

And as for the street decorations, why yes, this year we not only have our classic giant condoms-by-day, upside-down Christmas trees by night, but we have some glitter glam too. Just in case you missed them, that is. As you cruise downtown, look up and you’ll see the Christmas sparkle bright enough to give pink eye. I would love to be in the municipality’s Christmas committee, if such thing exists, to discuss more ways of making Larnaca look its most ridiculous and phallic in December.

As I make my way through the end of December, broke and utterly tired, at least I have one thing to be thankful for: Santa. Rumour has it, he’s bringing me an Xbox. You can’t say no to a panda, after all…