TODO is one daily thing recommended for you, by us.

It's amazing how Christmas sneaks up on you. Seriously, it was November basically last weekend, and now, Christmas is on Monday. If you're anything like us, you have twenty relatives still left to shop for, little desire to spend money on presents for anyone besides yourself, and a huge unquenchable fondness for shiny, cheap, weird little objects. Solution: Pearl River Mart. This Chinatown superstore isn't exactly a secret — if you've lived in New York for more than a minute, you've probably bought blinds here. But since moving into new digs on Broadway, the store has lost none of its crappy charm and gained many more square feet full of plastic trinkets. We got something there for nearly everyone on our list, and we're going to go ahead and list it all off here in the hopes that doing so will render it tax-deductible.

When we first walk into PRM, we take a moment to just revel in the store's signature aroma of plastic and incense. Mmm! We're then confronted with a bunch of plastic take-out cartons ($1.50) emblazoned with festive patterns. We hate wrapping presents, so after testing the cartons to make sure the lids actually close (always a good thing to do with the plastic junk) we threw a bunch of them in our shopping basket. Genius! The next thing that catches our eye is a bin full of beanie baby style dolls ($3.50) — sleepy-eyed kittycats, in pastel colors, all playing different instruments. Probably. Perhaps the instruments are actually golf clubs? Whatever tiny laborer sewed these didn't put enough time into them, that's for sure! But still, who do we know who doesn't seem like they could use one of these? We throw five of them into the basket.

Next stop: the food department. We pick up two packages of Kasugai gummy candies ($2.75) to help keep our blood sugar up for the rest of the trip, and some packages of loose medicinal herbal teas for our hippie brother ($3.50 - $4.50), plus a tea ball to make it seem like a better present. Later we realize that the teas are all for very specific conditions that our brother is unlikely to have, such as: dysmenhorrea. No matter. The little flower buds are very pretty.

We then venture downstairs, where the incense/plastic smell is even stronger. The reason? This is where they sell the incense. It's also where they sell the Chinese slippers; our shopping companion buys a pair of the men's kind, which she wears out of the store and later over the Williamsburg bridge. They are "very comfortable" and they only cost $5, though they definitely look like hobo shoes. The downstairs also has an array of funny wind-up toys with hilarious Engrish on the packages ("missing a brain? brains are for smarter!"). We get some for our immature cousin. We also get a soap dish shaped like a cat ($3.50) and some chopsticks and a lipstick holder; we'll figure out who these are for later (maybe they're for you!) We also buy one of those greek-style "We are happy to serve you" coffee cups, rendered in permanent ceramicware, because that's awesome. If you felt like going crazy in the china department, there are very nice ceramic plates and bowls and cups to be had here. Unfortunately, they are a little rich for our blood at more than $10/pop, so we bypass them and pick up a bunch of little packets of origami paper. At the checkout, it still turns out that we've spent $110.75, but we consider ourselves to have gotten a bargain. We exit, hair still redolent of nag champra, with visions of Kasugai sugarplums dancing in our tummy.

Earlier: TODO: Kirsty MacColl

Contact information for this author is not available.