Submitted by The Bargainist on December 12th, 2008

One Christmas, a guy I was just beginning  to see invited me to a Christmas party at his colleague’s place. Before we left for the shindig, he surprised me with a festive gift bag containing a perfume brand I’d never worn before. He insisted I try it out right away so I could wear it to the dinner party.

The whole car ride there I was trying to breathe as shallow as I possibly could; the stench was awful. It smelled rancid, like overcooked carrots and parsley, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by it. All night I was busy meeting new people, sitting next to new acquaintances, or engaging in intimate circles of gossip, and I swear I saw more than a few noses wrinkled in olfactory displeasure.

Not wanting to hurt my new boyfriend’s feelings, but knowing I could never wear the perfume again, I went to the kitchen and rubbed a cut lemon on my wrists and neck, a fruit I’m quite allergic to. Once I broke out in a rash, I showed my boyfriend and sadly told him I must be allergic to the fragrance he’d given me. He apologized profusely and took me shopping to choose my own fragrance a few days later.

by Bianca Bartz

photo by joannenah

Submitted by The Bargainist on December 8th, 2008

One in three people say they feel stressed out during the holidays, according to Gallup. My theory is that the Christmas stress comes from finding the perfect gift. There’s a lot of pressure in gift giving. Will they like it? Will they hate it? Will they return it? Will they treasure it? You see, being a good gift giver says a lot about you as a person. It says that you listen well, are thoughtful, understanding, and caring.

Think about when you get a really great gift—it makes you feel good, right? Now think about when you get a gift that makes no sense. Not only do you have to fake liking it, but you have a resonating feeling of how little this person actually knows you. Shouldn’t your mom know what size sweater you wear? Shouldn’t your grandma know that you are allergic to wool? Shouldn’t your granddaughter know you hate frogs?

Yes, she should.

In my defense my grandmother and I have never lived in the same town. Miles always separated us. I’m sorry to say months have passed without any communication between us. But I always felt Christmas was my chance to shine. It was my opportunity to be a good granddaughter—my chance to show how thoughtful, understanding and caring I was.

Years ago my sister and I discussed what to get Grandma for Christmas. My recollection tells me it was my sister’s suggestion to add to Grandma’s frog collection. So frogs became our annual holiday gift theme. Frog socks, frog figurines, frog candles, frog pajamas, frog mugs, frog slippers, frog pens—if this woman liked frogs than darn-it, she would be surrounded by them 24-7. READ THE REST…

Submitted by The Bargainist on December 4th, 2008

It’s my favorite Christmas tradition. Every year a group of friends and I “adopt” residents in our community who are overcoming drug and alcohol addictions. They are chronically homeless people who now—after many tough years—have their own apartments. It’s a unique program aimed at breaking the cycle of homelessness in our city by giving people apartments rent-free as long as they stay off drugs and earn an income.

To show our support of these men and women, we each select a name and fulfill the items on their Christmas wish list. They don’t ask for iPods or cashmere sweaters. They ask for cleaning supplies and socks. We try hard to give them what they want since our presents may be the only ones they receive. But sometimes we miss the mark. READ THE REST…