Merry Christmas!

I say that because on Tuesday, I finally received my present from Doug. It�s fabulous and I love it, and might have to dump him for it because my affection is so potent, but we�ll get to its identity in a second.

Doug ordered my present before Christmas � about ten days before, to be exact, aware it might not get there in time, but unconcerned because I�d be spending that time in Florida anyway and wouldn�t be in L.A. to rip it open and squeal. You see, I love presents. Love getting them. Don�t get me wrong, I love giving presents, too, but you just try and deny how fun it is to receive a present and tear off the paper and exclaim over what�s underneath it. I expect I'm shallow in that regard, but it's okay, because I assume there's a silent majority that feels the same way but doesn't want to admit it, because it sounds so materialistic and it isn't cool to Want Things. But it's not like I demand presents at all times, nor am I angry when I don't get them; it's just that when I do happen to receive one, I absolutely love it. Mmmkay? Yay. But I'm digressing.

When I returned from Florida, my present hadn�t arrived. When I returned from Las Vegas on Dec. 30, it still hadn�t arrived. Doug found out it had been back-ordered, but would end up arriving in mid-January. Not much longer to wait, I could handle that. But when Doug left Los Angeles for San Diego � the second time -- it wasn�t here, and when he returned it was MIA. Finally, he found out it the order had been cancelled because apparently, it confuses people when the delivery address and the credit-card billing address don�t match. Companies don�t understand the concept of "presents." Companies, it seems, don�t enjoy getting presents as much as I do.

So Doug re-ordered the gift, this time from Amazon.com, and promised it would arrive for me imminently. I was getting impatient, like a five-year old. Present! Me! Soon! It wasn�t Doug�s fault. I wasn�t mad. I was just childish, because getting new things is a total kick -- when I get presents, I immediately mentally use them as barometers for what to bestow upon that person when it�s my turn to dish the booty.

UPS finally tried to deliver it on a Friday. Because I, like much of America, works during optimal delivery hours, nobody was there to sign for my present. And UPS decided it wouldn�t be delivering it on Saturday, so my present sat on the truck all weekend. I vowed to sign the delivery slip, authorizing UPS to leave me the package on Monday.

But I forgot. So I left work at 1 p.m., went home, signed the slip, stuck it to my front door and left, passing the UPS truck on a nearby street. My excitement mounted.

But I�d failed to ask my roommate where she had found the delivery slip on Friday. Turns out UPS put it not on my actual front door, but on my building�s front door, meaning that when Lauren arrived home from work, she saw the yellow "SECOND ATTEMPT!!!!!" slip on the glass, looked through it, and saw my little authorization ticket swinging peacefully, cruelly, tantalizingly, in the breeze on our apartment door.

@#@%&^%^&&!%@#&^$$%!.

And, &*@#^%!@.

Lauren ended up getting food poisoning that night, so she was home the next day to sign for my package (I do not, however, view that as a happy ending, as I don�t wish vomit upon people I actually like). But it came! It finally came!

It was a Sony TiVo, a digital video recorder, an intelligent device designed to take the stress away from taping my shows. It will learn what shows I like, it will remember what I want it to tape without me reminding it weekly, and it will let me tape things I�m not also watching � which, with digital cable, has been impossible until now. TiVo will be my best friend. Everyone I know from Television Without Pity (formerly Mighty Big TV) that owns one swears it is the sweetest device since � the last really cool, functional and time-saving device someone invented. They love it. I love it.

Or, I wanted to.

The damn thing didn�t work. DID NOT WORK.

After half an hour on the phone with Sony the next morning, Kevin, my customer-service agent, cheerfully told me to box up the TiVo and send it back to Sony for repairs.

I would be so angry, had I not already heard of this happening to other people, and had their stories not ended so very happily. So I�m still waiting for my present, still holding my breath, but this time Doug benefits because he will receive many hugs and lots of love. Because he got me the best present EVER.

Of course, he later told me it�s a self-serving gift, because now I can tape things without subjecting him to them. Hey, baby? You have NO idea what other shows I need to start watching. There�s a long line.

But, nice try.

reading "about a boy" by nick hornsby transcribing my interview with judd apatow, to be printed soon on "television without pity" hating Dan�s recent entry, only because it makes me worried about him what it all means sometimes, I�m just too far away from people