- Holiday shopping woes:

I went to Indigo books yesterday to pick up a few gifts. I have two cousins aged 10 (Liam) and 8 (Amy), and I decided to pick them up something too. I found this cool book for Liam almost right, and then started hunting around for stuff for Amy. Let me tell you, a lot of books for girls are extremely patronizing in their mindless girliness.

Getting frustrated at the vast expanse of all things fairy and princess-related, and the slew of Bratz books (tips on how to be a major slut? Those things are seriously disturbing), I finally decided I'd give her a Roald Dahl book because they are both cool and appropriate.

So, to the depths of the children's section I went! All the shelves there are lower for the shorties to peruse, so it took some hunching on my part.

A bookstore employee noticed I was hunting around and asked if I needed a hand.

"I'm looking for Roald Dahl," I told him.

The guy stared blankly. "Pardon?"

"Roald Dahl."

Another blank stare. "How do you spell that?"

"D-A-H-L."

"Uh..."

"Oh wait, there they are!" I said, pointing at the books. The clerk, who was about my age, picked one up and frowned at it.

"Wow, Roald. What a weird name! I've never heard that one before."

"Well, thanks anyway," I said, hoping he would just leave before I got snippy. Seriously - who the hell doesn't know who Roald Dahl is? It bothered me. A lot. And this boy works in a bookstore? In the kids' section? I'd like to think you'd have actually cracked open a book as a child to get work there. Evidently, I live in CRAZY IMAGINARY LAND.

Anyway, I bought James and the Giant Peach, in case you were wondering.

Other things I observed while shopping:

1) Eglington Square has the fattest pigeons evar!

2) I met three dogs on my shopping trip. I like dogs. I also enjoy petting random friendly dogs. So that was happy.

3) I hate shopping.