Christmas arrives on different dates for different people, really. My American friends and family, for instance, say they can only really think about Christmas after Thanksgiving. I was having a nice cultural conversation with an Irish friend on typical Christmas dishes not long after Halloween (no one besides Brazilians know what a
Chester is and what they are missing - besides cancer). A dear friend confessed on the same occasion she couldn't wait for Halloween to go by so she could carol without sounding too much of a freak. My mom sets the Christmas tree up on early November. She figures that why go through all the trouble of having the tree and not enjoying it for a few months - let me tell you all that the tree stays on the middle of my living room until late March. It might as well be a permanent tree. I tell her time and time again a permanent mistletoe might be a tad more useful.
How is Christmas for me? I am not a religious person. I am a very hypocritical atheist actually. I enjoy the food and the wine and I like carols. I like the holiday. I like the idea of a white Christmas - although a white Christmas in Brasil would be the announcement of the Apocalypse with Santa leading the knights in his sleight. Yes, I am a bit of a romantic.
So I'm usually graced with a nice dinner at my aunt's on a
very warm December night (it's always extra hot on Christmas eve, and nobody can look good for long on a 110F weather besides the turkey - and not long before turning into charcoal). My little cousins and godchildren (notice the inconsistency?) open their
many presents and the adults have a secret Santa. I'm on the later group for some years now and I can tell you I had so much more fun on the kids table all those years and I didn't know it. We stuff ourselves and get things we probably will exchange in a later date in stores packed with people who got things they don't need from the chubby fellow. Yes, he needs to get his mail sorted. So this year I decided to make his life easier for him. It was a genius idea by my youngest and savyest goddaughter. And like all genius ideas, it was conceived in the tranquility of chaos.
We were writing letters to Santa. I had a dog in my lap. Many crayons in my hand. Julia, 3 year-old, was dictating a letter worthy of the March-Hare. I was loving it. I was having such a jolly time that when it came to a conclusion and she sweetly told me it was my turn to write my heart's desire to ol' Santa, I was rather perplexed: I had no idea what to write. Then I sympathized with my poor Secret Santa - he must feel very outta sorts when shopping for me. And then I sympathized with everyone in my family really, for my birthday is a fortnight after Christmas and I must be a dread to shop to. So I'm using this post to put everyone out of theit miseries: let's help my beloved family out - especially now that they can't give me clothes. And let me remind everyone that I'll be going to Asia in January, on the 4th. So my birthday celebration will be postponed to February. By my mom's Christmas tree.
On with my very uninteresting
list:
1) História da Guerra do Peloponeso - Tucídides
2) Histórias - Heródoto
3) Euclides - Elementos
4) Plutarco - Vidas Paralelas
5) Motion of the Heart and Blood - William Harvey (em inglês)
6) Sobre a natureza das coisas - Lucrécio
7) Ilíada - Homero (tradução do Carlos Alberto Nunes)
8) Epicteto - Discursos e Manual
9) Aristófanes - pássaros
10) Modernidades Tucidideanas
11) Iphone 3GS 32Gb preto (yeah, I like that's gonna happen. Not even if I had donated half my liver)
Estou atrás de alguém que comente Aristóteles/Platão. Alguma indicação?
I wanted to finalize this post with an expert of my goddaughter's letter to Santa. She is on the right path, this one: she already knows who TH White is - kinda, she knows Sword in the Stone and knows I have an unhealthy obsession with Merlin (and likes the beard). She dictated to me, after picking the red crayon (very Tarantino of her):
Dear Mr Santa Klaus.
I love you. My house is full of Christmas stuff. The candles are red. I like when you visit me. Kisses on your beard. Julia.
What about you, have you written your letter to Santa yet? What's more, have you been a good person this year? No? Have you given up on Santa then? I wasn't in the Christmas spirit at all. But nothing like a 3-year-old to brighten up your day. Especially if it's not
yours.
Alas, I can't believe it's Christmas already.