my elf name is winterheart coalstocking
Monday, Jan. 10, 2005,
Yesterday's entry was a hurried one, wedged in between getting my housework done and getting ready to go out. So I just went in and corrected some of the more glaring errors resulting from my haste. So untidy of me to post such a mess.
We did, indeed have our "Christmas" get-together with Papa, P, and E yesterday. We met at their house for gift-exchanging, and then we all went to Famous Dave's for lunch, Papa's treat. That is how he does Christmas gifting; he takes us all out to eat. Papa seemed pleased with his new boots and his George Jones CD, and we already knew that Pottery Barn Gift Certificates were E's favorite treat. P seemed pretty interested in his wine fridge thingy as well.
Spouse got a box set of Marx Brothers movies, and some cigars. I got a $50 gift Cert for Midwest Bead. Oooh, yeah, baby. And, of course, my Sister-In-Law performed her annual agenda-shoving routine.
This year, it was festive, snowman-patterned dinnerware. Service for eight. (???)
Does she even know me?
I love this person, who has beautiful taste and good solid M-O-R values and is interesting and funny and beautiful and great to know. But I wouldn't go out and get her something for Christmas that would not suit her. I don't do that. And the funny thing is, except for the whole "blind spot about celebrating Christmas by decorating your house", she doesn't either.
Last year, she got me a piece of Fenton for my collection, which of course put me over the moon. This year, she gave me the GF for the bead store . She knows how to please me. It isn't generic gifter cluelessness. And she is far too sweet for it to be malicious. I guess it just drives me crazy because I can't figure out the motivation. Although I've respected her sensibilities by never coming right out and stating the degree of antipathy I have for the holiday, one would think she'd have caught on by now.
I Don't Like Christmas. Every year I don't have to decorate, I consider it a blessing. Every Holiday Decoration you buy me goes straight into a pile in my basement, never to see daylight again. I purposely plan faraway resort vacations for the week of Christmas. Why do you think that is?
Honestly...the vibe I get is that she thinks I'm desperate to go the whole nine yards with Christmas decoration, and the only thing holding me back is a lack of stuff.
My biggest regret is that my conscience won't let me sell it all.