How can I concentrate on writing meaningful, thought provoking blogs when I have all this damn Christmas shopping to do??? Not only do I have to do my own shopping, but I have been sucked into doing my mother's Christmas shopping for her (meaning I tend to buy my own gift and put her name on the gift tag!). Maybe I put too much thought into this gift giving. But I always want the "WOW" factor when someone opens my gifts. I agonize over just the right gift for everyone on my list. Gift giving to me is not just about spending money. It's an extension of how I feel about a person. I spend weeks listening to my loved ones, trying to figure out something they want. When I used to buy gifts for my students I would start planning right after Halloween. I wanted everything to be special for them. My Santa complex is driving me crazy but deep down inside I love it!
Yes I have received some crappy gifts over the years (if you read this and know my grandmother, please tell her I am too old for neon green underwear with Tweety Bird all over them. Seriously) but nothing will ever top the gift I got in high school. My elitist high school forced us to participate in Secret Santa. We had to give a gift to the name we drew out of the hat every day for a week and each gift had to fall into the chosen theme of the day (food, something pink, etc.). The final gift could be anything under $25. All week I got nothing from my Secret Santa. There was a girl in my class who had to fly home to Brazil earlier than expected so I figured she was my Secret Santa. The last day of the gift exchange arrived and as I gave my Secret Santa a silver frame with a picture of her favorite teacher in it, my homeroom teacher is giving a girl across the room a FedEx package from Brazil. At this point I am thoroughly confused. Someone tosses a Christmas bag on my seat. I open the bag and inside there is a package of Ding Dongs from the vending machine downstairs in the bag. Yeah you read that right. DING DONGS. For the record I don't even eat Ding Dongs - never had, probably never will. My Secret Santa was a girl in my class who had been in school everyday that week. She thought the whole thing was funny. I wanted nothing more than to smush those damn Ding Dongs in her face. And I almost did it too, but I was already in trouble with the Headmistress for getting caught making fun of her outside of her office, skirt up to my chest, glasses sitting on my head and everything. To say that I was hurt by this girl's actions is an understatement. It wasn't the actual gift; it was her lack of consideration that bothered me. I kept asking myself "why would you do that to someone?" I did toss her back the Ding Dongs and told her she looks like she would like them more than me. While on the outside I didn't let it show, it cut me down deep inside.
I guess I've never wanted to give a "ding dong" gift. Even writing this blog stirs up something in me. I know what receiving a "ding dong" gift feels like. Even my grandmother giving me neon green underwear doesn't feel like how I felt that day in high school. As least my grandmother thinks I need underwear (why neon green I will never know!!! LOL) She thought about who she thinks I am (probably 10 years old) and bought accordingly. So while the "wow" I said when I opened my grandmother's gift was not the same "WOW" I said when I opened the digital camera I got from my mother (yeah I went to the store and bought it but it was her money, okay?! LOL), I knew both gifts game from the heart. The same place I give my gifts from.
Okay I gotta go. Making a list and checking it twice is hard work, mannnnn!
Transition train wreck.
14 hours ago
1 comment:
First off, that ding dong story was funny and traumatic at the same time. the double entendre was just icing on the cake. secondly, i need to get on your gift list if you're as meticulous about gift giving as you say. I'd never be disappointed. And I am a lazy gift giver, I can't even lie. I'd be happy giving out cds to everyone, that would contain 25 songs that make me think about them.
Post a Comment