2004-02-06 @ 1:19 p.m.
|So I recently noticed that new Diaryland addition down at the bottom of the page that says, "Give a gift to Awittykitty".
What an absolutely smashing idea! I got really excited when I saw that. Gifts from total strangers. I do have a birthday coming up February 12th. So if anyone is counting, you've got HINT, HINT 6.5 Shopping Days left.
I am so easy to buy for...say, a car built sometime after the Disco era. One that goes forward AND backwards without hemorrhaging metal shrapnel all over the highway.
It's funny, how I almost never get what I want present-wise. I don't want to sound unappreciative or anything, but so many things I get from my mom and family are what I call random gifts. Stuffed pigs. Ceramic Hands of Jesus. Large dangly earrings. An Ab's Pro.
My mom is especially guilty of this. Like at Christmas she bought me a Christmas pin. I don't like Christmas, and I don't like pins. She then bought me the aforementioned huge, dangly earrings. I hate huge, dangly, sparkly earrings. I'm not J'Lo or Nicole Kidman at the Academy Awards for freakin' sake.
Doesn't she notice I have a certain way of dressing. Or that I like certain color clothes? Or that I probably won't be wearing that big bulky sweatshirt with pink kitties and purple balls of yarn on it?
When I shop for a present for someone (and you have to be really special, since I don't have much of a gift giving budget), I really, really sit and think about what that person likes. What that person is about.
Married Guy is really easy. He loves books. He loves The Sopranos. And he loves dogs.
My shrink is easy too, anything to do with movie spies or something handmade. Now we're not talking about a glue-gun project, we're talking about say, a book I wrote and illustrated for his children about 5 years ago. It was a lot of work, but it was so worth the smile it brought to his face.
But you sort of get the idea, right?
What does somebody really like? I sort of feel like people don't really take the time to know me, because if they did, they would know I love books. I love CDs. I love bath salts and fragrant candles. I love art supplies. I would love to be able to pick up some decent clothes, so I wouldn't look like food stamp girl.
But I never get any of these things. Ever. Unappreciative? I suppose. It's not that I want a shitload of presents or anything, I don't, but having something that really spoke to me, personally, would mean so much.
For instance, I was blown away at Christmas when my gay friend in Manhattan sent me a DVD Player. Woo! That WAS awesome. I loved it. Not only did it make me feel special, that he thought enough of me to be so generous, but he also knew that I loved movies, so that made it extra special.
Married Guy, almost always give me a massage for holidays. He's also given me birthday parties. Flowers. And a couple of years ago he bought me a beautiful fruit torte decorated with floral rosettes when I came in for a massage. He did stumble slightly a year ago, when he gave me an oil change for my car. Of course my car needed an oil change and he was just being a practical Capricorn, but still....me like massages.
And of course last year, was the famous birthday card, expressing his feelings. That was sort of a double edge sword, that one. But, it was definitely from the heart and meant alot.
So what made me think of gifts? I think it was when the local news station had a contest for $250 worth of groceries down at the local store last night. You had to be the 33rd caller and then you had to answer a trivia question.
Well, you should have seen me, slam dunking the poor cat to the floor and nearly taking a header into the coffee table, trying to get to the phone. I must have dialed about 20 times. Busy, busy, busy. Fruck!
So what does that have to do with gifts? Nothing really, except that it would be nice if Fate tossed me a little present once in a while...like say free groceries, so I could share them with my mom and not be so broke at the end of the month.
I guess I could always sell my Abs Pro on E-Bay. That would make a great present for someone, right? Just not me.
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty