The whole thing about giving each other gifts during the Holidays started to feel fake to me a long time ago. In some cases I feel I was re-gifted or the sender gave me a gift to unclutter the closet. Sometimes they even smell of mold.

Okay, it is the thought that counts. Fine! There is a good reason to take the time and buy something meaningful. If you don’t have that time, just don’t buy anything and that will be perfectly fine.

Anyway, after a dozen years or so of marriage my husband and I are passed the stage of giving each other cards and presents, but sometimes we do.

This Christmas we were driving to a friend’s house for Santa’s dinner when I realized there was a red envelope sitting on the dashboard. It was not for our hosts because we already had a card for them. Jeez, I forgot to buy him a card!

I opened the card and read the lovely message. It said I was such a bright spot in his life, joy sharing and caring. Oh, I know I am! It had indeed been carefully picked.

On the inside there were two small cards: “Good for a bicycle” and “Good for a new phone”. Because my phone sucks and he thinks I need a new bike to ride along the beach. That’s our way when we do give gifts. We discuss it and then together we take the time to carefully find the right one. We don’t do returns or exchanges!

We had to stop on the way to buy a Christmas cake and that was my great opportunity to get even (did you see what I just wrote? “G-e-t e-v-e-n”! Gosh!).

I knew the parking lot would be full and my husband would have to wait in the car and drive around. I could even take longer and say there was a big line to check out. You know, everybody does last-minute shopping, including us.

I rushed to the card aisle and it looked like a hurricane had passed through. Another lady was trying to dig out something.

We looked at each other and with complicity, said, almost together: “Last minute card, huh?”

“Nothing much left, huh?”, I pointed out.

“And the few ones left are in Spanish”, she complained.

Fortunately I found a nice one. I swear that was what I would have chosen if I had more time.

It was simple and elegant and said on the outside: “For my husband. Life gives beautiful gifts – ”. And on the inside: “It gave me you. Merry Christmas.”

Then I had this brilliant idea: I bought a Powerball ticket and put it inside adding: “If $50 million is not enough you will still have ME!”

Bingo! I rushed back towards the car!

But, wait! I have to buy the cake!

I decided to give him the card after dinner, so he wouldn’t think I had bought the card at the last-minute.

The next day he asked me: “Did you buy the card at the grocery?”

And I knew he knew it…

“It’s okay”, he said. “It’s the thought that counts.”

Please forget what I wrote in the first paragraphs.

The festive season is a complicated one. We really tend to see things through a magnifying glass:

•  Your bucket list seems longer, so does your list of bills to pay;
• Countries still fight each other in meaningless wars, so do you and your spouses;
• You are hopeless because some of your dreams didn’t come true while other dreams will never come true;
• You feel ugly because your wallet got skinnier and your waistline got fatter;
• You feel old because your hairline has receded or you can’t keep up pulling out all the white hair you see in the mirror;
• You are frustrated because you didn’t get a better job or a bigger house or that limited edition Ferrari.

And the list goes on and on…

Then you get a day like yesterday: Thursday, December 27^th.

If you were in Miami and not too busy with your magnifying glass you may have noticed how gorgeous the day was. The sun was shinning, not too cold and not too hot, just nice and warm. The blue sky and the blue water of the bay were even bluer.

The beauty of Thursday transported me back many years ago. It was the holidays, just like now.

I guess back then I was too young to see the sad things in life or I just didn’t have a magnifying glass.

However, the bad things, when you are younger, are of a different nature. It normally involves romantic entanglements.

But I will spare you the details and try to be brief.

The holidays were approaching and out of the blue skies my Prince Charming becomes an ugly toad and makes me feel like a post-Halloween pumpkin.

I had the option of spending the holidays crying and facing friends and family with explanations of the inexplicable. Instead I decided to invest a month’s salary and checked in to the fanciest hotel in town.

After all the pampering available I joined the hotel’s New Year’s party. Among happy strange people, including gorgeous men, I anonymously had one of the most fun times of my life… I will spare you the PG-13 details.

The next day, January 1^st of a new year, I dreaded opening my eyes and facing reality.

But again, when you are young, fighting back also feels easier. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. I had forgotten the shades open. The sun was shining. The blue sky and the blue ocean were even bluer.

How can’t life be good and the future bright when a beautiful day welcomes you?

I used to make New Year’s resolutions…

Just to forget all about them in the first hours of the coming new year.

Maybe even before the New Year started.

I even remember reading articles about SOFTWARE to help you keep track of your resolutions!

Perhaps I’ll invent an iPhone app to manage resolutions.

Well, in the past few years I have narrowed my New Year’s resolutions down to one big resolution: NO MORE NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTIONS!

Instead, I take this time of the year to check on the small changes I’ve made (without planning) to make my life better and easier. Here’s a list of some of my small accomplishments in 2012:

• I went a month without shaving my legs in the peak of summer.
• I cleaned my apartment every two weeks compared to once a week the year before.
• I bought more stuff I Iike as opposed to purchasing stuff on sale.
• I stopped picking up my husband’s underwear from the floor.
• I tried to be a better wife when I felt like it or when my husband deserved it.
• I donated all the clothes and shoes I didn’t wear this year.
• I got rid of a stack of classic books I was keeping for years knowing I’d never read them.
• I “fired” friends who keep telling me they consider themselves my best friends.
• I made new wonderful friends.
• I sorted out junk in the closet instead of in my life.
• I didn’t eat anything healthy if it didn’t taste good.
• I quit drinking many times.
• I resumed drinking many times.
• I ate expired food and I didn’t die.
• I cursed.
• I said nice words.
• I was nice to people.
• I was mean to people.
• I lied.
• I cheated (just on a few small things).
• I didn’t recycle much.
• I didn’t keep all my promises.

However, if you insist on making New Year’s resolution, here’s some advice:

Copy and paste last years’ resolutions!

Happy 2013!!!! Happy 2013!!!! Happy 2013!!!! Happy 2013!!!! Happy 2013!!!! Happy 2013!!!! Happy 2013!!!!

“The world will not end on December 21, 2012, or any day in 2012”, assures the US government in its blog.

Who’s more likely to be right, or wrong? The Mayans or the US government?

Just in case the Mayans are right, I have a mile-long bucket list to cramp in less than two weeks. Impossible task, I know. Maybe I can filter my priorities. I can try to do it in an Excel spreadsheet.

You know what? Let’s make it simple: Who can meet me at sundown on December 20th for a farewell drink?

Filling up on booze doesn’t sound like a bad idea since we don’t know how tough the journey to the “other side” will be.

Where? I’ll choose a venue and send you an e-mail. Please RSVP ASAP!

Oh, gosh! I already know what to expect:

“Sorry, I’ll be attending a seminar about the Mayan calendar.”

“Sorry, doctor said I shouldn’t drink.”

“Oh, it’s my company’s Christmas party.”

“I’ll have jury duty.”

“It’ll be raining.” (or too windy or too cold or too muggy or SNOWING!)

AND THE BEST EXCUSE:

“If you postpone it for AFTER the 21st I’ll be happy to come.”

Honestly… I also have so much work and cleaning and laundry and gift shopping and postcards to send and packages and company’s Secret Santa and blablabla before December 21st that I, myself, probably wouldn’t show up.

Frankly, my dear?

I don’t give a damn if the Mayans are right. Sorry, Rhett Butler…

I love Asian cuisine and lately I have been exploring the culinary tradition of Southeast Asia.

For my meat and potatoes kinda guy husband the weekend peregrinations through exotic eateries can be dreadful to say the least. But, what wouldn’t you do to keep your spouse happy, huh?

So there we were. At this Southeast Asian place enjoying our Sunday lunch. My husband ordered the simplest thing he could find in the menu: some beef on a bed of watercress. According to Wikipedia, watercress is the oldest known leaf vegetables consumed by humans. Oh, yeah! Tell that to my husband.

He ate the meat and left the leaf, as he always does. ‘Greens are for rabbits, and I am not a rabbit’, he always says.

The Asian waiter comes to our table and realizes my husband has finished. He looks at his plate, stares at him, points at the greens and shouts angrily: ‘You Eat That! It’s Very Expensive!’

We are speechless because we feel he is serious.

‘Oh, of course, don’t worry! I will eat that!’, I say apologetically. And I immediately start to munch the bed of greens.

My husband rolls his eyes and I say: ‘Listen, he must be sibling number six of twelve kids, starved, and was probably your age when he first could eat watercress.’

‘Well, we almost have something in common, don’t we?’ – fires Mr. I am not a rabbit.

Do You Know the Way to San Jose

She started sleeping over

And left a toothbrush

Then, she stayed over the weekend

And left a nightgown

Next, she’d stay for the weekend plus Monday

And left some moisturizer

Imposing a situation, she started arriving on Friday evening

And brought a pair of sneakers

Just in case they decided to go for a walk in the morning

After a while, she’d just stay

Bringing the notebook and some clothes

She wanted to talk about the relationship status

And her little romance was over

I was making a coffee this morning and I realized how nice the cup was. I know nothing about china, but the cup belongs to a set that came from a lady I met just once. That was about ten years ago, when my father-in-law was volunteering at a nursing home and invited me to come along. I learned the lady died about a year ago and left the set to my in-laws, who gave it to us. It looks like it has never been used.

That reminded me of two more stories, one real and another one sent by the kind of friend who never has time to write you something personal, but forwards you stories (which may well be real too).

The real one is just a flash that stayed in my memory. There she was, my mother, trying to put on brand new clothes on my brother and me. We were probably 4 and 5 years old. The clothes didn’t fit! She had been saving them for a special occasion and we had outgrown them. All I remember is her face. A mix of sadness, disappointment, regret, anger… I don’t know. I don’t have the words to adequately describe how she looked.

The other one concerned a man burying his young wife who died of a sudden heart attack. Someone commented on how beautiful the gown she was being buried in was. The widower said: ‘It was my gift to her, but she never wore it. She was waiting for a special occasion. I guess this is it.’

And remember the movie ‘Sideways‘? Paul Giamatti’s character was saving that special bottle of 1961 Château Cheval Blanc for a special occasion. Instead he ends up drinking it from the bottle (or was it from a disposable cup?), concealed in a brown bag, seated alone in a fast food restaurant.

… you have to move your shopping items from the time you pick them at the shelves until you place them in the fridge or in the pantry?

Well, let’s count it:

From the shelf to the shopping cart or basket – 1

From the cart to the check-out counter – 2

From the check-out counter to the bag and back to the cart – 3

From the cart to the trunk of your car – 4

From the trunk to the cart of your building if you live in a condo – 5

* Then wait for the elevator and take the cart back before someone complains.

From the cart to the table or counter (or the floor, in some cases) – 6

From the table or counter to the fridge or pantry – 7

Seven times! Depending on the amount you buy or the help you have! (Let me know if I miss any step)

And you haven’t even eaten them yet! Much less prepared them (which deserves another post)!

Isn’t that amazing?

Make sure you don’t let your food spoil or there will be another trip: to the garbage!

PS: Every time you think it’s expensive it is to eat out at restaurants, think about this.

I have seen this old lady in Miami twice.

She seems to be a hoarder on wheels. Every inch of space in her car, or what’s left of, is filled with stuff, except for the driver’s seat.

The first time I saw her I didn’t have the courage to approach. I was angry with myself. She probably had a great history to tell and what were the odds I’d see her again?

Well, I did see her again and I wouldn’t miss the opportunity. I walked towards her and politely asked her to tell me a little bit about herself.

She started saying that someone had taken the money for the sale of her father’s house and she wished some lawyer out there could help her.

I told her I write stories that I post on the Internet and if she minded if I wrote her story. “Yes, I DO mind!”, she replied very angrily.

Then she literally started to dish me out. And all the writing community!

“People who write stories do so because they don’t have anything better to do! Because they don’t have a job!”

That, of course, hit me a nerve. Not the job part, but the storytelling part. How did she dare say that about one of the most beautiful human abilities?

“Well, actually I do have a job. A very good one”, I replied.

She softened up. “Oh, what do you do?”

“I write and translate entertainment content for a media conglomerate.”

“I met some interpreters in court! You are all crooks.”

“And I also write stories”, I insisted. “If I write about you maybe someone out there will come forward and help.”

“No! Nobody will help me! Nobody cares! You know nothing! Bla bla bla!”

But I didn’t give up.

“But you said you wish some lawyer could help you. If I write your story…”

“Don’t you have anything better to do than writing stories?”

Well, she went on and on, pretty much humiliating me at every turn.

Sometimes you just have to give up a good history… If indeed there was one.

Bitterness is the worst thing that can happen to a human’s soul.