After barely surviving through the devastating blizzard that occurred here in Ames last Friday, I realized that life is too short to continue procrastinating. I have decided to stop waiting until the last minute to get vital things done.

So I am taking care of the highest priority on my “things to do” list. I’m am going to sit down and write my annual letter of requests to Santa. No time like the present, ya know?

Before I actually start writing the official copy, I had better figure out just what I need. I used to fill my list with a lot of worthless trash, which really didn’t serve much of a purpose for me. So this year, I am going to use this season to my advantage to make things at ISU a little bit easier … which hopefully equates to better. After some brainstorming, here are the things I feel I need:

A job. Not just any job, mind you. There is an occupation that I have always dreamed of holding, but there never seems to be any openings in this particular field. I want to answer the phone at a pizza joint.

Can you imagine an easier job, besides writing a column for the Daily? How tough can it be to say “Thank you for calling, can you please hold?” And the kicker is that regardless of the answer, you put the caller on hold. No difficult decision-making skills, you just put ’em on hold.

And then after taking the caller’s order, you get to tell a lie! “That will be there in 30 minutes.” I love deceit.

I figure Santa can knock off one of the current phone personnel, then allow me to use his name as a reference when I apply. How can they refuse me?

A portable parking meter. I have accepted the fact that I will get a parking ticket regardless of where I park. Basically, I have went with the strategy that cutting my losses is the only feasible solution. Seeing as the tickets you receive for an overtime meter violation are only one-third of the “lacking the required permit” fines, you don’t feel quite as crummy about getting the meter fines.

But the problem is that the lot where I do most of my parking has seven meter spots. Not seven rows or seven pairs … just seven. The odds of getting one of these coveted $5 spots is slim to none. And there’s always a $15 spot open, practically taunting me and my unparked car. So I park in that spot.

With the portable meter, I could cut my fines by 66 percent. And if I could somehow rig it to always show that I have time left, I would rid myself of one of my greatest financial burdens.

A passing grade in HIST 386. I may have dug myself an academic hole with this class. When I was looking through the list of courses that meet the multi-cultural requirements, I saw HIST 386: The History of American Women. I naturally assumed the ratio had to be good, if you know what I mean (wink). So I signed up.

True, the males are greatly outnumbered, but I failed to realize that the most important aspect is the subject matter being taught. That, and that alone, is determining my grade. Unfortunately, absorbing the lecture topics has not been a strong point.

I would ask for an “A” in the class, but I feel that would be a little out of Santa’s league. I took that matter up with God. If he doesn’t pull through, maybe Santa can give me a “C.” It can’t hurt to ask.

A new mug shot for my column. I look way too surly in this one.

An easy way to quit smoking. A habit I developed in college, I managed to convince myself that I could quit whenever I felt like it. Not true.

It’s bad enough that I take part in something that’s going to slowly kill me if I continue to do it. But now when I try to do without, it hurts. My stomach gets all knotted up and my head starts to hurt. Ironically, that’s how I felt after smoking a cigarette in the early days. Now I need to puff every so often to avoid those pains. Pretty cool, huh?

Hopefully Santa has something in his bag of toys to help. I don’t know what it could be, however. The warnings and statistics, as grim as they are, haven’t led me to quit yet. I shouldn’t need more than that, should I?

Well, if Santa can’t come through on this, at least I’ll have a New Year’s Resolution to make. And break.

Tube socks. Not the long ones, I prefer the golf-style.

I realize Santa can’t fulfill all of these needs. That’s where you, the reader, come into the picture. Only 41 shopping days left … don’t procrastinate!

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Christopher Clair is a senior in journalism mass communication from Waukon.