One of my more shameful Christmas traditions is my annual participation in the Christmas Eve Boxing Day sale at futureshop.com. I couldn’t think of anything less appealing to me than to go out on Boxing Day to stand in line to buy things in a seething throng of greedy humanity .. but I am not all that opposed to deals, so I compromise by being online at 5pm sharp Christmas Eve for treasure hunting. I feel kind of dirty doing it, but that doesn’t stop me from browsing through the online flyer with covetous anticipation year after year.

.. except for this year. I did take a half-hearted look through the web-only deals that’ll be available tomorrow night, but nothing remotely gave me even a semi-boner of anticipation. I don’t want or need anything badly enough to sit online with my credit card in hand, so I’m going to skip the sale this year. It helps that for the first time in three years, our iPod car stereo adapter has not been stolen or destroyed (not that there are any on sale even if I needed one), and I finally took the plunge earlier this year and upgraded to a computer that’ll keep me going for years – but I was a little surprised at how much either a) the sales this year suck, or b) I’ve finally amassed enough stuff and I simply don’t need any more.

As noble as it would be to think option B is the reason, I think the real culprit for my consumer apathy is the far more sinister c): I’ve grown up a little.

This stunning realization hit me like a ton of brick last week. We had just dropped off the gifts for our adopted family, and were basking in the afterglow on the way home. The conversation returned to its pre-delivery topic; that of homes and areas of Vancouver .. and I found myself launching into a detailed, informed dialogue about mortgages, refinancing, and interest rates. It was a shockingly adult conversation, but very far removed my usual definition of “adult conversation” – it was like listening to someone else, and it was weird .. but it didn’t feel all that out of place.

One normal conversation doesn’t a grown up make, but there have been other things as well. The whole adopted family experience really opened my eyes – here was a whole family of people who, when prompted to put together a wish list, filled it with things like dishes, PJs, pots and pans, rubber boots. Common items I don’t associate with Christmas at all – but they needed these things; stuff I take for granted on a regular basis. Who am I to ask for extravagant presents when there are people who don’t have warm clothes or food to eat? The differences in our wish lists make me feel like a complete asshat – the mom of our family is the same age. She asked for household items and warm clothes for her children. I asked for an iPod and a book about naked people. You know I’m not at all religious, but I can’t think of a non-denominational equivalent of “there but for the grace of God go I”.

So, yeah. It looks like my priorities have shifted a little bit. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, and I’m not at all confident they won’t shift again the next time I get a bug in my ear about the Latest Awesome Toy I Must Have .. but it’s been eye-opening, seeing what other people ask for as gifts. And, um, refinancing the mortgage. My, that was a lot of paperwork.

This update was far more depressing than I intended it to be. I’m not at all depressed or thinky – quite the opposite, I’m happy and relatively content. I’d like to get outside more, and have more fun adventures .. but that’s a goal for next year: hang out with people and do fun things. It may just be the cabin fever talking, but the thought of sitting on the couch and having a mellow night in front of the TV kind of makes me want to punch things so I think I need to go outside and Have an Adventure and soon before this becomes hazardous for my hair or wardrobe.

My inbox is blissfully quiet, so I think I’ll go wrap some more presents in porn to get myself all festive again.