I managed to get (read: wangled my way in) an open seat at Nokia’s The Way We Live Next 3.0 gig this morning, partly to give Rich…! some man-love should the media/blogger attendees not like what he had to say (this of course did not happen – he rocked out), and partly to see what Nokia has in store for the world.

I started writing a recap of the event, but Paul Jacobson beat me to it, and probably did a better job of it anyway. Overall, I’m lank excited about the Nokia Maps Player, and the Nokia Booklet 3G, which is one sexy little piece of equipment.

Read Paul’s post here. Awesome.

That’s my Don-ism for ‘The fear of receiving gifts and not knowing the correct amount of enthusiasm to return to present-giver whilst more than likely looking like an awkward pedo’.

I don’t like receiving gifts. Birthdays, Christmas, it’s awful. And I figured out why: I feel awkward when someone gives me something. The very bizarre thing though, is that I love to give gifts. The look on someone’s face when they figure out what it is. Priceless.

Hypocritical? Of course. A problem? Absolutely.

The reason for this post is because in a few days time I’ll be celebrating my birthday, and as like all birthdays, everyone is asking ‘What would you like for your birthday?’. My immediate response is ‘Nothing, please.’ People don’t really like this answer. I have 2 major problems with present-receiving at birthdays:

1. I suffer from Reactophobia (or Doronophobia perhaps), often feeling a sense of letdown on the present-giver’s face as my subtle non-bounce-around-the-room reaction is, well, just that. Too much enthusiasm looks like you’re acting. There’s such a fine line.

2. Why – just because I happened to be born on a specific day – do I deserve to get rewarded? If anyone should get something, it should be my folks. After all, it was their hard work that got me here in the first place. If I hit 100 years old, now that’s a feat, gimme something for that, preferably in the shape of a little blue pill and a dozen beautiful blondes. Awesome.

So I’ll keep this short and sweet: Please don’t buy me anything for my birthday. You don’t want me to feel awkward do you? And I really don’t deserve it, all I managed to do to get to this point in my life was stay alive. It’s not rocket science.