pretty things

Mid-sentence during a phone chat today, my friend strayed off track, ooh-ing and ah-ing about something happening at her desk.

Snapping back into our conversation, she said, "Sorry.  I was distracted by pretty things."

We both acknowledged that there was a profound metaphor in that statement, and that blog entries would ensue.  I'm hopeful she will explore that metaphor in the spiritual way it should be addressed, so that I can blog instead superficially, about these pretty things:

I spent the better part of my evening singing along to Christmas tunes and wrapping Christmas gifts.

Gift-wrapping and I have a love-hate relationship:

love:  Investing time to make presents look pretty.

hate:  Backaches resulting from hunching over boxes, ribbons, paper, and tape for hours on end.

love:  Buying fun new wrapping paper each year, to motivate me to endure aforementioned backaches.

hate:  New rolls of gift-wrap that are kept closed with Scotch tape.  There's gotta be a better way.

love:  Keeping all gift-wrapping materials contained and organized in a Rubbermaid storage bin, year-round (making Dad proud).

hate:  The wrapping chaos that occurs in process.

love:  Cutting the gift-wrap to precisely the right size for your box (yes, I have a measuring system).

hate:  Picking that wrapping paper for x gift, unrolling it, watching the cardboard roll appear too soon, and thus knowing that wrapping paper is not, in fact, for x gift.  (And fooling myself into thinking I might be able to use that scrap somewhere down the road.)

love:  A wide, organza ribbon that looks lovely without much effort.

hate:  Curling ribbon that can't stay in line.  Why must you be so difficult?

(conditionally) love:  The gift bag.

As a gift-wrapping purist, gift bags are a little bit of a cop-out.  (Don't be offended, you lovers of gift bags!)  I just like the idea of someone removing a bow and ripping paper off of a gift.  In my head, it sort of heightens the anticipation and the element of surprise.

But I can't tell a lie, after a couple of hours on the floor when my body is screaming, "Please, stop the madness!" a gift bag really is a welcomed relief.  It's just so much less demanding.  A little tissue paper and a quick curled ribbon.  Done and done.

(So, in the spirit of transparency, if you receive a gift bag from me, your gift was probably the last one wrapped in a batch.  Or it was just not going to be pretty if I tried traditionally wrapping it.)

What are your peeves of pretty things?  You know you have 'em.