The psychology of gift giving? Why, yes!

Gift giving is fun, for both the receiver and the giver, because so often the gift says a lot about both people. Does this pet rock mean you do want to date? Is this light-up reindeer sweater what you think of me? (For the record, if anyone actually has one of these please, PLEASE can I have it?) So when people have had a while to get to know you it's pretty entertaining how on-spot they can get with your quirks, obsessions, etc.

Here's a glimpse into my self through four Christmas gifts from this year:

TomTom GPS navigation system.
Have I told you about the first time I ever drove by myself farther than the grocery store? Oh, it was great. I made it to the old mansion to go sledding but the trip home ended with me somehow about thirty minutes away, making frantic calls to my mother and aimlessly driving around just to find a sign so I could have a clue where I was. Unfortunately my sense of direction hasn't improved much since.

Electric griddle.
I went through a weird, picky eater phase for a short while. (Birth until about age thirteen. Not long at all.) During that phase I developed this horrible taste aversion to pancakes which then really just reflected badly on all breakfast foods. It didn't bode well for waffles, bacon and other items. Luckily, however, I got over that aversion and I think my taste buds are making up for lost time because I LOVE PANCAKES. A lot.
And believe you me, making pancakes one at a time on your sad non-stick frying pan is absolutely against the Eighth Amendment (Don't worry about opening that new tab to look it up, that's the one about cruel and unusual punishment).

Have you missed all my complaints about the winter weather we students and residents endure every year? You have? Well, I live in a place where it's winter wasteland about six months out of the year, and I usually wear a skirt or dress at least once a week, so my poor legs need all the help they can get. We're talking, eight degrees as a high temperature. Bless you Urban Outfitters and your tights. Bless you.

This pretty hefty book is a little bit of Heaven. That's all you really need to know. A huge recommendation for anyone you know who might be into fashion/style/whatever you call it. Not the I-totally-love-fashion way or the Hollister-is-like-totally-a-chic-store way, but the I-read-RackedNY-every-day way. And the I-squealed-a-little-when-our-Target-still-had-Rodarte-in-stock way.

What did your gifts say? When is the soonest you can get that sweater in the mail? Did you just get coal? (If the last is a yes, I apologize for bringing up a sensitive subject. Unless of course you're my car- and train-obsessed nephew who was thrilled to hear there was a chance of getting coal in his stocking.)


Funk Master B said...

I'm a witness... to your pancakes.

4 Reale said...

What does it mean if I got a dog bed for Eva?

And a new bed for myself.

Miss B said...

That means you're lucky enough to have a cutie like Eba, and she deserves a new bed.