My Wishlist for Internet Magic

Or, a list of all the things I’d like the God of the Internet to make for me.

Interweb magic. It just happened. Just minutes ago. I got an email with a coupon for exactly the thing I was craving for lunch.

I bow down to you, oh Internet Talisman. How do you know exactly what I’m thinking when I’m thinking it?

(Hang on a sec. Gotta take a bite.)

This lightening-in-a-bottle moment got me thinking, so here’s a list of all the other magic things I’d like the God of the Internet to make appear for me:

1. A mood ring that actually works.

I don’t technically need it to be a ring. I’ll take any form of jewelry, clothing, app, tattoo or flashing neon sign that Ye Internet Gurus have to offer. I just need it to do this: tell me the truth about the people in my path. My husband woke up considerably more morning-oppositional than usual? Cool, I get that. I just don’t want to have to experience that, if you know what I mean. A blinking red light over his head would be so much more convenient for me. Also, could we attach it to email subject lines, too? Sometimes a woman’s just gotta be prepared for the attitude she’s about to click.

2. A decision conch.

You know, a la Lord of the Flies. Except this conch would require someone to make a decision. Here’s the issue I’m looking to solve: I live in the midwest. (No, Snarky, that’s not the problem. Keep reading). This is the land of painfully polite people. And by “pain,” I mean that your desire to do whatever everyone else feels like doing is giving me a pain in my chest and in about 12 seconds flat we’re gonna have to skip lunch in lieu of a trip to the emergency room. A decision conch, though — that would compel the possessor to take action. It’s like when you hand someone a hot beverage they didn’t ask for. Can they resist taking a sip? No, that would be rude and here in the midwest we call rude “uppity” and uppity people don’t get any more hot beverages. So people here would take the conch, if for no other reason than crippling social fear. (A note to my non-midwest readers: if you ever experience this non-decision phenomena and it’s new to you, just ask the people you’re actively not deciding with where they’re from. Thousand-to-one there’s midwest blood no more than 2 generations back. Serious. Email me.)

3. “I currently hate you” subscriptions.

I’m not a professional hater; more of a casual one. Even so, I cycle through people I’m hating pretty regularly — you know, bad boss, sloppy garbageman, stormy barista. I’m sure you can relate (even though many of you are secretly judging and you know you are). Now, here’s the thing. I’m not a long-term hater and I’m a dash conflict-averse from time to time. So, please, Goddess Electronica, create for me a temporary “I hate you” subscription. I sign up for, say, three months and you, Goddess, email said hated person with a notification. Feel free to edit but the email could read something like, “Gretchen Anthony has just subscribed to hate you for the next three months. This requires no action on your part. You will be notified by us should she decide to alter the terms of her hating of you through either subscription termination or renewal. Have a nice day. — The I Currently Hate You subscription team.”

4. Alice (or Rosie, either one).

The Brady’s had it good. The Jetson’s too. Do you know that I went on to Angie’s list to look up “housekeeper” — you know, just to see how much it would cost to hire myself an Alice — and they don’t even have them. Housecleaners, yes, but I already have cleaners. I need the keeper. I need someone to follow my kids around like the horse poo crew in a parade, all geared up with shovels and wheelbarrows. Yesterday I found eight tee-shirts tossed into various corners throughout my house. Why does this upset me? I have three children. I can only naturally conclude that one of the neighborhood moms is forcing her kids to sneak in and dump their laundry off on me. Rosie would SO put a stop to that.

Are any of these magical treats currently available? Please, please tell me, Friendly Digital Gnomes. My world depends on it.

Gretchen Anthony is a Minnesota-based writer and essayist. Want to be the first to know when she publishes new content? You could text her, but her boys have a tendency to borrow her phone. Sign up for email alerts, instead.