I love being a Secret Santa, and my victim (what's a better term?) really gave me a challenge with her wishlist.
I thought it was all solved when I saw Monty Python's Life of Brian on there. The definitive Christmas movie! Of course!
Alas, she was requesting the skanky old version, and I couldn't get behind that. (And I can't really afford to give her the Criterion Collection one, the one I will be pulling from my to-be-boxed stack later this week and watching twice before finally boxing. Then twice again with commentary. Mike pretty much dewed up all future Christmases as happy ones with this purchase.)
Maybe she has the nice version and just needed the cheap version for, like, playing in the car or carrying in her purse in case of emergency. But, without knowing the whole situation, I couldn't make a decision.
What to get, what to get?
As a gift-giver, I like to give people stuff where I can imagine them having a good time with it. And if you think I'm talking about just a vague notion of someone's happiness and not an elaborately scripted scenario, you missed my production of "Hamadu" yesterday.
(Okay, see, Mike and I have a theory that all songs, even "Revolution No. 9," can be adapted to hamster imagery. Obviously this includes Olivia Newton-John's "Xanadu." Just thinking of this song led to me listening to it five times in a row and Mike asking me to DCC it to him. Hey, we own the vinyl, it's cool.
So, we started talking about how of course the hamsters would have to be on rollerskates for the video and there would be a mural -- just like in the movie -- and I started describing all of these key scenes and waving my arms while visualizing choreography and answering Mike's repeated "but it would be tasteful" warnings, and in the end I was very depressed that I can't draw and that I uninstalled all of my Flash software. There was even a badger homage in one of my mind-scenes. If you can draw rollerskating hamsters without sniggering, including one holding a microphone and wearing barrettes with ribbons, please apply within. The whole concept is fabulous and a little emotional, I tell you.)
So, I looked at my Secret Santa recipient's wishlist and sorted by priority. I feel bad for my own Secret Santa (HI SECRET SANTA!) because I did not prioritize and it might be very hard for him or her to get excited about my wishlist items as-is, but I promise that the receipt of any one of them will generate equal and true happiness in my heart, and thank you in advance for being such a good Secret Santa and restoring my faith in Santamity by actually participating and not just scoring some free stuff from your own Santa and leaving it at that.
Okay, the 8.2 megapixel digital camera might generate 10^10 more squeals than the Complete Works of Winnie-the-Pooh, but, now now, you shouldn't be thinking about either, what with the "keep it under $15 Secret Santa rule." (Or "keep it under 10-pounds-sterling Secret Santa rule" if you're British, and if you are British, how absurd do you think it would be for an American who has been living in Texas since her late teens to come over to the UK and teach English? That's what I thought, too.)
Except, as a gift-giver, I like to not only give people stuff that I can imagine them liking, but I also insist on giving stuff I can relate to, if possible. So, when I looked at all the "Must Have" priority-1 items on my designee's list, I could have kept it under $15 and been all technical about it, but what I really wanted to give her cost $18... it's the holidays, let's share from the heart and have fun.
And the fact that it came with a free Marauder's Map screensaver for me had nothing to do with it. I don't even use screensavers.
The students might like it, though. Anything I can do to inject them with Satan-lovin' Harry Potter tomfoolery when they're away from their meddling parents and under my hag-like care. (No, no, we should go back to the murder and anarchy in Lord of the Flies, which we all know is just an especially prescient manual for reality television.)
And so, what fun, I've chosen the gift, signed the card, selected Standard Delivery, and now will spend every day hitting reload on this person's blog to see if they've received it yet and if they've guessed what it is and if they're the types to open presents early and if they admit it when they do, so it's a good thing that her site is lively and fun to read anyway. (Again, apologies to my Secret Santa.)
I remember the first time I participated in a Secret Santa. I was in the sixth grade, newly 11, and had just moved to a new school in the exburbs... Er, this post is long enough, let's save this story for another time.
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