The Tree is up! It is decked out in Vegas lights.

As you may all know, and are very much aware, my fiancée just loves Christmas. It is his time of year, his birthday follows around the corner, but he isn’t as unlucky as my poor brother who has it right during the month of Christmas so he generally gets everything lumped together that is called ‘Christmas’ and is told, “Oh… yeah, the Christmas wrap… that’s for your Birthday too!”  Though, ever since I have gotten a job, whether it has been decent paying, or like my first one, minimum wage, I have spoiled my brother in both categories.

My fiancée is all about the tree. Not the crappy attempt at wrapped presents that I made underneath the tree, not even the ornaments which are pretty and all ‘fancy ornaments’, the ones he likes. No, he likes the Vegas showgirl lights on the tree.

And that he can read his book from the lights on the tree.

While, you know, me, I’d just like the tree to have a few sets but otherwise not go too crazy on it. We were part way into the whole lights thing, and I didn’t even know this, so he asked me how the tree looked. I said, well, dear, I think that it has more than enough lights. To which he gave me a shocked, horrified expression, as if I stepped on a puppy Santa had given me himself, and told me, “We are putting more lights up, I just wanted to know where on the tree it was still dark where it needed to be covered.”

Never mess with a man who is obsessed with lights, we put on like three more strings after that.

It feels nice to have the tree up, and I’m personally more impressed with the spread of presents I have underneath it. There is stuff for my brother (of course, I am like Santa Claus with how much I get him), stuff for my fiancée, and stuff for my co-workers. I know what you may be thinking… Presents for your co-workers? I can’t stand working with the people I work with! I mean, I’m barely able to stand them at work and I try my best to ignore them but they are like the worst! Well, I do love my co-workers quite a bit, especially my little estheticians who spend the most time with me back in the Spa, crack me up, and are part of the reason I have so much fun back there.

Getting gifts for my co-workers is one of my most favorite parts about Christmas. I can be totally creative with them, I can get them whatever I want, yet I know their tastes and what they do/don’t like, and I don’t have to call them up to make sure. My family can be so difficult with what I get them, and my brother is a party pooper with most of his gifts being gift cards.

Even if this year will be the last Christmas with my girls from work because the man’s job will move, I’ve decided this doesn’t mean I can’t spoil them. If I have to move, which it’s looking a lot like I will, I’m going to do everything I want to do for them with no regrets. My spa girls mean a lot to me, they’ve been a sounding board the few times I feel like talking about my life, and they’ve been my help when I’ve been behind. I’ve even gotten gifts for a hair stylist I enjoy talking to, and a nail technician I’ve known since I’ve started working at my work. All of them I’d call my friends, so as a friend of Sarah’s, they get to be spoiled by me.

My gift wrapping is as flawed as I am

You watch me wrap a gift, and I struggle with it, and add more than enough scotch tape to try to fix my mistakes and this can be a good metaphor for myself. I’m flawed, and sometimes I can’t do things perfectly, but I sure will put a hell of a lot of scotch tape on the situation to try to mend it. It won’t be as good as if I did everything with perfection in my touch, yet I think it’ll hold together.

Key word here is: I think it’s going to hold together.

My mother wraps like she’s a professional at it. The man wraps gifts with a mischievous air that shows through when you start to unwrap it. He hides the gifts inside of paper inside of a box that has another box with it. He places scotch tape directly on the present itself so even after you’ve detached the tons of gift wrap you still are picking off the tape with your nail.

Or, in my case, my lack of nail. My little nub nails, I can’t grow them out because of my career. The first time I spent Christmas with him I couldn’t believe the scheming he went through with each gift. You had to basically tear apart the wrapping paper with your teeth and he seemed to use tougher tape that didn’t give up the fight that easily.

You had to sort of ‘win’ your gift through persistence and a whole lot of swearing. As he gleefully watched you and couldn’t keep his laughing at bay when you start screaming out, “Really? Seriously?? What were you thinking gift wrapping this?!” And now I know what he was thinking, he was thinking about my classic reaction to it as I refused help (a.k.a.- a knife or scissors) and used my hands/teeth to get into it. Don’t worry, I’ve gotten back at his mischievous wrapping by getting clever about my own presents.

My mother has actually tried to fix my gift wrapping. I never do it right, and this gift I wrapped would be no different that she’d go, “No, no, no, that’s not right! Let me fix it…” But, with my moving out, she won’t be around to make sure they are extra perfect. They will just have to be imperfect, like me. And I will just put a ton of scotch paper on it to make it ‘work’ even though I’m making it worse.

Since it’s not a gift for the fiancée, I won’t try to make it extra difficult with putting it inside of another thing and putting the scotch tape on the object itself. Though, I still think my gifts aren’t as easy to get into as they should be.