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| S.J. Drum/J.T. Fairfield |
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Because most of us will soon be dodging carts and elbows
during Black Friday shopping, I’ve found myself thinking about gifts. Not just
for Christmas, but any gift giving occasion.
We all remember receiving some sort of majorly disastrous
gift as a child. The things which seemed to lurk under the Christmas tree or appear
on the gift table at a birthday party as if the devil himself put them there
just to ruin our day. Socks. The requisite toothbrush placed in a stocking. The one gift which consisted of a Dollar Store plastic change purse filled with
quarters. WTF am I supposed to do with
this?! My fifteen-year-old mind would rage.
The curious thing is how our views change over the years as
to these previous Debbie Downer gifts. Now, I’m 29 and have two children of my
own.
I ASK for socks on my Christmas list. Know why? ‘Cause I
would never go to the store and pay $20 for the good socks just for myself. I
end up buying a couple packs of the incredibly cheap socks about every two
years. Regretfully, these cheap socks only last six months and they feel like
sandpaper inside tennis shoes. I spend an entire year wearing no socks at all
because I refuse to shell out the money to buy more. So, I ask for socks as
gifts. And to make it real special, I ask for the good ones. Nike, Adidas. The
kind of socks that are so soft and smooth it feels like clouds are giving my
toes a hug.
A change purse full of quarters? Shi-it… I could eat, like,
a week’s worth of meals with that kind of smack. It won’t be healthy, but I can
(and will) do it.
I also totally appreciate the toothbrush in my stocking.
It’s a Spinbrush and now I know they cost like twelve freakin’ bucks and I’ll
never pay that much for one for myself on a regular shopping trip. I’d brush my
teeth with a washcloth and baking soda before spending that kind of cash on a
toothbrush, but da-amn Spinbrushes are sweet.
The one gift I now receive without fail, but never received
as a child because someone would have gone to jail if I had been given one, is
a tattoo. Every Mother’s Day, my husband and my mother pool resources and pay
for whatever new tattoo it is I’m dying to have etched into my flesh. Again,
I’d rather spend my money on things for the kids or the house so body art is a
special occasion occurrence only.
What are some of the gifts you used to hate but now look
forward to? Is there something, like my Mother’s Day tattoos, which you look
forward to all year long?
Speaking of tattoos, check out my new series, The
Sinful South, published through Ellora’s Cave’s PRICKED line featuring
tattooed characters. Sinful
Southern Ink, first in the series, released in July. Sinful Southern Hero,
second in the series, is a full-length novel which should release in the Spring
in paperback and e-book.
I’ve also recently released my very first GLBT Upper YA Dark
Urban Fantasy, CAGED
IN MYTH, under the pen name J.T. Fairfield.
*Warning! This Upper YA title contains cursing, graphic
violence, and references to sex.*
The Bayou Zoo, where magic is real, the beasts are deadly,
and a bad day at work can literally mean the end of the world.
Octavian Julius McKellter— “Jay” to everyone who doesn’t want a punch in the face— struggles with keeping the secrets of his supernatural community and his own secret...he's gay. Throw in a dose of danger, deceit, and Louisiana heat, and you'll find yourself CAGED IN MYTH.
Octavian Julius McKellter— “Jay” to everyone who doesn’t want a punch in the face— struggles with keeping the secrets of his supernatural community and his own secret...he's gay. Throw in a dose of danger, deceit, and Louisiana heat, and you'll find yourself CAGED IN MYTH.
7 comments:
Thanks for having me on today, Ladies!
I never cared much for trinkets when I was growing up, but now I love 'em since, like you, I can't afford to pay x amount for decent jewelry. I also love things like socks and even undies because I detest paying through the nose for the good stuff. My kids keep me drained $ wise as it is, so whenever I consider buying something for myself, major guilt hits and I put the item(s) back, lol.
I have a long list of special gifts. Every year, I drop hints, like bricks on toes. No one could miss them or wonder what I would love for Christmas: new, nice socks, a gift card for the book store, a new pair of jeans. Practical things that never make it onto the household budget list. Every year, my husband scours the city for the perfect gift I never knew I wanted.
Like the year he bought me an antique set of cat-shaped salt and pepper shakers to add to my small collection of really unique cat figurines (some of which I inherited from my grandmother) Or the year he bought me paint pots and stencil kits knowing I was thinking about re-painting some bedrooms. Last year, it was a leather purse from Roots just big enough to fit my i-pad in and so horrendously expensive I never in a million years would have bought it for myself. But it will last me a lifetime, and the paint on the bedroom wall, and those cute little ceramic kittens remind me every time I dust them or look at them how well he knows me, how much he loves me, and how far out of his way he goes to pay attention and get me things I never knew I wanted.
Aw, Jaime, that is so sweet!
Btw, I love getting books for Christmas, but do you know I haven't received a single one as true Christmas gift since I was a teenager? I just don't understand it, LOL!
As a youngster I would never have looked at a pair of basketball shoes as a "gift". Now, at Xmas, I plead for someone to give me a pair of men's size 9 Jordan basketball shoes. I wear them every day of the year and it's like walking on thick carpet all day.
Unfortunately I'd like a pair of LeBron's this year but at $400+ I'm not asking.
I don't even bother hinting to husband - he rarely buys me anything and when he does it's a powertool or a supermarket voucher. Mr. Romantic he is not. But I ask for soap from Daughter. Boring I know but she buys lovely hand made soaps and I'd never buy those for myself.
At this point, I never ask for things around Christmas----when I go to Wal-Mart or the mall with my mom and sisters, I admire something.
Note, when I admire something, I jump around like a little girl and squee over it for like five minutes. I've gotten DJ Hero, an art light-box, and Dragon NaturallySpeaking 11 by squeeing like that.
(Also, one year, I got a hedgehog by being obsessed over a certain blue one since 1991. Sadly, he died shortly after I got him.)
Point being, whenever I see something and squee, I usually forget about it for a few months...and then at Christmas, BOOOOM! It's there in my haul of presents like the Ark of the Covenant.
...Plus, I usually buy what I need around Christmas by myself. A $15 train case of cheapish makeup, a new electric blanket, you get the idea. And SJ, this year, I'm getting a tattoo of Pluto Pendragon from WFAY? on my back. ^_^ Self-bought, of course...my mom would rather buy me canvases and jewelry tools than ink, and it's a present of its own for my tattoo-artist little sister.
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