I posted earlier today about my little gift list and my penchant for finding appropriate gifts as close to perfect as possible. It got me thinking about this musical figurine my daughter’s paternal grandmother had given her and how much I liked it and missed having it around now that it got divided out to go with my ex’s things.

I found the figurine on a collectables site. Here’s a picture. It’s a child angel and an older angel and it says “My Granddaughter, My Joy” and plays “The Wind Beneath My Wings”. Well, they also have versions for mothers. It plays the same tune and, predictably, it says “My Daughter, My Joy.” Gigi will be five at the beginning of next year. She is intrigued with delicate figurines and I have bought her precious few thus far. I think this could be a good heirloom gift. I still have to take into consideration, though, that she will be much more impressed with a Barbie Castle, new clothes for Baby Chou Chou, or a little makeup kit. If I buy her a collectable item this year, it would actually be more for me than for her

I clicked on the Christmas Gifts for Sisterslink and saw that the same figurine series has one for sisters and when it comes down to it, I find my sister one of the most difficult people to buy for each year. She is not a packrat, nor does she leave a lot of pretties sitting around. She is all about economy of space and tidiness. Still, she has a small cabinet she puts her Precious Moments figures into and the few other special items people give her. I think there would be room for one more special figure.

Of course, I still need to address the little rumor that has been going around in our family that we are going to totally forego gifts this year. That would change things considerably. Gigi will still make out like a bandit, though

It’s that time of the television season. I started off recording and watching a hefty number of new and returning shows. A couple of the shows fell off my schedule with in the first week, with more following in the weeks following. So far I have given up on Kitchen Disasters (predictable and kind of stomach turning), Private Practice (boring and sad), Carpoolers (a huge disappointment considering it is written and produced by one of my all-time favorite people Bruce McCullough), and Moonlight (I barely got through the fist laughable episode).

Some of the shows that made the cut have surprised me. I absolutely adore The Big Bang Theory and Reaper. Monday is a POWER night for NBC. I already knew I loved Heroes, but who would have thought that both Chuck and Journeyman would rock they way they do? Pushing Daisies is actually even BETTER than the hype.

Some shows are on middling ground with me. Kid Nation is holding my attention, but I wouldn’t be upset if I came home to find a lightening storm had caused the DVD to skip recording it.

On another note, thinking about Bruce McCullough made me remember how sad I was to see the Kids in the Hall reunion this past summer. *sigh*

I’m very interesting in playing around a little bit in the stock market. The drawback for me is that I don’t understand it very well. I’ve subscribed to a couple of magazines on the subject, but either I just don’t have enough time to figure out how to master the strategies myself or my mind just isn’t inclined in that particular direction.

My brother-in-law and the husband of one of my best friends both dabble successfully in stocks and from time to time they have thrown me some great input. Sometimes I think getting advice on the stock market from friends and family is more trustworthy than getting it from a professional.

There is actually a social networking site called MyWallSt.net that is based on the whole interest area of stocks. You can hook up with other people who are on your same learning level and trade information. If you look around enough and make the right contacts, you can get some phenomenal advice. And, the best part in my opinion is you can trade in real time in a fantasy-based manner so your real money is not at risk. You can make a game of it, use it for practice, or use to get you courage up to trade in the real markets.

Jenn posted a comment on my last post requesting that I put of a picture of the print I bought for Harvey. Here it is. If you click on the small image, you will see a larger version.

I went, like a fool, to my local Michael’s Craft store to see about just buying a standard size frame and having them cut the matting down to fit. The artist matted the print using a larger than needed piece of matting board, so you could indeed cut it to fit various sizes. Turns out Michael’s has a policy against cutting things. Period. The chick behind the framing counter was rude and condescending on the issue.

My theory is that Michael’s wants to force you into buying their way overprices custom framing services. You know that frame shop I mentioned I liked? I found it because I walked into a Michael’s in south county and the gal there told me they were too expensive and I should go see her friend who used to work there with her, but who had opened up her own little framing shop. Kudos to truthful employees.

Anyway, here’s that print:

Speaking of gifts, I have this very expensive, very cool print I bought about a year and a half ago at an art show. It was intended to be a gift for my daughter’s godfather, Harvey. Somehow, in the confusion of my ex-husband imploding about two weeks after we bought the print, I never had it framed. And now, the godparents are coming for a visit and will be here Monday! I have to go out today anyway to find a new brass door knocker and some other door furniture, so I should really get that print out and see if I can find someone willing to frame it within the next couple of days.

I love errands, but when I start to have to operate under a deadline I lose that joy. My mind is racing. I have a frame shop I loved to use back before I was married, but that was a long time ago and considerably further south in the county. I suppose I could look online and see if they are still in business.

Do you want to know what makes it worse? I cannot find the information on the artist and I cannot make out the signature well enough to guess. It was an expensive print and think the gift would be more special if I could provide a bio of the artist. The subject matter deals with Hebrew removals to the ghetto communities and there is a lot of history I need a little assistance explaining.

OK, I’m getting way off topic here and it might just be better to go get this thing framed now.

Since I can barely stand to be close to a television anymore when American Idol is on, I went ahead and made a decision last night to not watch Fox ’s “The Next Great American Band”. I admit I enjoyed the first three or four season of American Idol, but after seeing the show “Rock Star” and realizing that every single contestant on Rock Star was more talented than any of the Top 10 American Idol has ever produced in any of their seasons, I became disenchanted.

But, I digress. Apparently, one of the 12 bands on “The Next Great American Band” is from right here in Clearwater. “Tres Bien,” is a group of recent Clearwater High graduates now vying for a chance to win a recording contract with “19 Recordings” label.

I still might not watch, but I’m absolutely cheering for these former Tornadoes. While the music scene in the Tampa Bay area is absolutely NOT stagnant, it’s still refreshing to see a young band get a bigger opportunity.

I keep a short list of gifts I know each person who is important to me would love to receive. I add to the list when I hear one of my loved ones mention in an off hand way that they would like to have this or that. I also add to it when a truly inspired idea comes to mind. Granted, some of the items are a little more pie in the sky than others: world series tickets, a trip to Israel, a new SeaDoo, and an overnight stay in Cinderella’s Castle in Disney World. On the other hand, it’s helpful to be able to look at my list and see things like a bottle of Red Door or suede Birkenstock clogs and if I happen to see them on sale I can just pick them up and tuck them away in my gift closet.

I will admit that I still do some last minute scrambling around birthdays. The family grapevine will start buzzing and I will realize that what someone actually wants wasn’t an item I actually thought to put on my list. This year I bought my sister a mint condition Happy Baby doll from the early 70s and ended up giving it to her quite late; because I did not find out she had wanted one until right before her birthday. Bad timing aside, it sure was cool to see her face when I handed her the doll.

Sometimes I want to be that person who just hands out gift certificates for every holiday and special occasion. So far, I have been able to ward off that temptation. Gift giving is something I enjoy as much as the receiving part. In fact, I probably enjoy giving more. Until I am too ill to leave my bed, I want to take the time to buy and make special gifts. I have no issue with gift cards in general and I actually really like getting them, but when it comes to being a gift giver I still enjoy the process enough that giving certificates would mean I was missing out on my favorite part of the process.

If you don’t count everything that I have in my storage unit (which is almost everything), then I just now unpacked the last box from my move. Everything that I am keeping out to live with is now out and put away for the purpose of getting on with my life. It feels good. I have to admit, though, that all this time I kept hoping I would come across some small box or bag or envelope that had my diamond rings in it. I want to think the best of people, and it still eats me up inside to know the movers took my wedding set. We never got any help from the moving company, so now some trashy chick in Ohio is probably sporting one outrageously expensive set of diamonds.

The reason I wish I could find them is so we could sell them and put the money in an account for Gigi. If anyone deserves to benefit from the things, it’s my daughter. She has probably developed even more scars than me through this whole divorce. I was in college when my parents split, so although it was tough, it was also slightly surreal and removed. Gigi was three days away from her third birthday when her father pulled his dramatic walking-out extravaganza. The poor kid was the one to come upstairs and find me crying in the bed to tell me her father was making loud animal sounds and laying on the floor. The guy had quite literally gone fetal and was wailing like a cow with a broken leg — and all of this in FRONT of my daughter. It has never left her poor little mind.

Yep, she deserves those rings, in the very least.

I was caught up in laundry and fixing some soup and it gave me a second wind tonight, so I decided to turn on the TV and see what might be on. Apparently, the Travel Channel is doing a 7-hour Most Haunted Live at the Winchester House in San Jose, CA. I thought it might be fun to watch for a bit.

Why in the world is it so flipping compelling to watch a bunch of adult s walking around in the dark with night-vision camera jittering and jumping at every single creak and pop they hear? All houses make little noises. My house is at least 100 years newer than the Winchester and it creaks. Come on, people.

Nonetheless, I watched. In fact, it is still on in the other room. Seven hours of absolutely nothing. What odd TV programming we have these days.