Yellow men can't wrap...

An announcement: I have survived my holiday shopping.

As is my wont, I hit the mall like a hurricane for a day of hostilities, hypertension and entertainment.

(You may notice, on the Bridgewater Commons page linked above, a picture of a child holding a stuffed monkey not too different from my own! Bonusmunkee!)

And now, with presents for many, many people in hand, I can relax.

I'm too wiped out to do the remaining things on my monkey-do list, but that's sort of par for the course. I've gotten most of what I had to get done, done this weekend, but not most of the things I merely wanted to get done.

None of this is to say I don't like either a) shopping; or b) buying gifts for others. If I may say so without sounding disingenuous, I've reached the point in my life where I actually enjoy buying gifts for others probably more than I enjoy buying things for myself. That's not to say I don't spend plenty of my money on myself. I mean, duh, I'm human. But I do get a genuine joy out of buying something unexpected, and/or something special, for someone I care about.

This year's big gift, I think some of you know about, but I won't detail until after the holidays because, well, the recipient reads this blog and I want it to be a surprise.

But my mall and bookstore misadventures were generally successful and provided all the broad-shouldered shoving one little munkee can take on any given day.

I also got my holiday cards in the mail. In contrast, I rather hate doing those. Not because I don't like to think of the people I'm sending them to - and isn't that really the point? - but just because I lack whatever sort of skills are necessary to make them quality efforts. So it's more a chore to try and make them pleasant and fun, than it is a joy to send them and wish people well for the coming days and year. I wish there were a better way, or a better way I knew of.

On a more positive note, I have acquired every gift I need but one. So I don't have to brave the mall traffic, which this year was shockingly not too bad. Perhaps because I did my shopping late on a Sunday.

Which, on a more negative note, means I have to wrap gifts. Also something for which I, in some infamous words, lack the necessities to be good at. I can't wrap a decent package to save my life. So you can always spot mine in the crowd. It's the ugly one, but hey, it's what's inside that counts, right?

(Except maybe for Dave's kids, who really do like tearing the things apart.)

And really, it's the thought that counts. So, considering my antisocial tendencies, I'd like to think that whether it's taking the time to try to write something witty on a card, or ordering something custom-made in a foreign country...

(Speaking of which, did you know Polo makes its socks in not one, not two, but three different foreign countries? Yes, somebody asked for socks this year. And if you ask for socks, you're getting them!)

... I'd like to think that the people I love and care about know the way I feel, regardless of the lame note in the card, or the utter lack of surprise in the gift that's exactly what they asked for.

And hopefully, the two most important people on my list, my Mom and Dad, enjoy the gifts I carefully chose (or ordered) for them. Because they're the most important people in my life, the people who have done the most for me, and if it truly is the thought that counts, I want their gifts to be the best, and I don't think I could give them enough.

And now we return to our regularly scheduled programming, "JAG" on DVD.