I love to give gifts. Not just any gift. For me one of the joys of getting to know a person is discovering things they dig, then matching gifts to that person. I’m really good at it. I will usually spend more than is reasonable to get the perfect present. It upsets my mother, but I didn’t see her complaining too hard the year she got earrings from Tiffany. One year, my friend Mike mentioned that he was reading some short stories of his great –great-great something or other grandfather, the 1933 Nobel Prize in Literature winner Ivan Bunin. I found a English first edition of one of his books for Mike’s Christmas present. Another year, Joe mentioned that he was looking for a bag- something that he could easily fit books and scripts into. I found the perfect one. Dan loves Gabriel Garcia Marquez so I found an English 1st Edition of Love in the Time of Cholera. (I think the first line of Cholera is even more amazing than Solitude. “It was inevitable: the scent of bitter almonds always reminded him of the fate of unrequited love.” Ah, it kills me every time I read it.) Yes, we are book people. Stuart likes to give gifts too and is also fantastic at it. This one day in London he told me to meet him in the stairwell at work and he gave me a lovely bracelet that sets off metal detectors when I fly. It makes a little tinkling sound when I move my wrist and it makes me think of him. The problem is. . . he hates receiving gifts. He had told me this before but I didn’t think he was serious. I figured when he witnessed my gift giving kung-fu, he would be fine. Yesterday I was shopping online for Stuart’s wedding present. He likes antiquities and I found a great Web site that sells them www.medusa-art.com. I found a Late Ptomaic Period 664-30 BC stone frog that represents the goddess Heket. I thought, “perfecto!” I love frogs. He likes really really old shit. Wedding present that is both these things. Kismet. I was up late last night and when he came on IM I first teased him by telling him that I was going to drag him to Disneyland when he flies here for the wedding. (I wouldn't really do that to him.) That didn't go over so well. Then I teased him with the knowledge that I had bought his present. Cut To: He really doesn’t like getting gifts. Really. He hates gifts. There must be a word for this. And there must also be a word for the frustration of the person that loves to give gifts that can’t because the object of their gift giving hates gifts. We had a rather heated IM exchange—not helped by the fact that I had a bottle of wine for dinner. (I got home at 9:30 and had intended to have a steak, salad and a one glass of wine for dinner, but a friend called needing to chat and after being on the phone for over an hour it was too late to eat so it seemed a reasonable decision at the time to drink the entire bottle.) I must say that Stu didn’t get angry with me, just frustrated. I didn’t get to bed until after 3:00 AM. The alarm this morning at 6:30-7 came rather early. Condos could be built in the bags under my eyes. I look like a chubby Ileana Douglas. I am going to keep the frog. But in my mind it is a wedding gift. He can call it what he wants. I am going to try and respect his anti-gift wishes. Part of loving someone is putting up the things that make you want to murder them. I told him I am going to put, "We loved him even though he was a incredible pain in the ass" on his headstone. And once in a while I am going to do it anyway. A gift will be purchased. It will be wrapped. It will be given with love. If he can't handle that part of me that incites murderous thoughts? Well. . .He can murder me.