Friday thought.

I'm gonna brag about my wife here.
This morning, I wanted some doughnuts, driving back from the grocery store with 6 chocolate long johns in a box, I hear this commercial on the radio. Oh, there's my first mistake listening to morning drive-time radio. On this commercial for a local jeweler, it starts out; "My wife has a September birthday... [Hey, so do I! One in twelve chance of that!] ...and a Sapphire is at the top of her list!" What type of vapid, superficial, bitch wants a damn itsy bitsy rock?
I've never understood the appeal of jewelry. There seems to be a quality to a woman who loves jewlry that sickens me. Now, my wife adores her wedding ring, but it has an emotional, and symbolic attachment. And I'm sure she'd appreciate and accept jewlry being given to her, if we had lumps of money causing us discomfort when we tried to sit down, or more appropriately if we had stacks of it causing the house to be unnavigable. Dear, could you pass the salt? No, I can't even see you or the kitchen table for all the cash we're swimming in, why don't we BURN IT?
She'd like to have jewlry, it's right up there with crown molding and basement flooring.
I'm not going to insinuate that women who want jewlry for holidays are stupid and inane. We gave my grandmother jewlry for virtually every holiday. She was one of those irritating people who immediately bought anything she wanted and her eyesight was bad enough that she could say I was a cute child and she wasn't lying. So books were out of the question.
My wife was giving me hints of ideal gifts... in Best Buy. Not even in the appliance section to misogynistic fans of '50's gender roles, but in the laptop accessory aisle. She'd love a dictaphone, or a HUGE Gift card from Borders. She's practically addicted to books. I'm always trying to find interesting novels on the cheap, since $15-20 for a book for me, seems OK, I'll be reading it until the end of time. She should use the receipt as a bookmark and return it the NEXT DAY when she'd done reading it for her next hit of Gutenbergian crack.
At least she wants things that appeal to her intellect or expand her abilities to communicate or create.
She's the type of woman that makes you hate women. The ones who clatch together in gossip circles, concerned with only the number of bragging points they have over the other members of their gossip circle, who will only crack a book if Oprah tells them too, and obsess endlessly over empty things.