The holiday season is upon us, and the fact of the matter is I am

getting “Grinchy.” Not that I do not like to

get together with family and friends. I do. I certainly like getting and giving

gifts as much as the next guy. What I cannot stand is shopping. Holiday

shopping. Every year I make the stupid assumption that I have to go out of

the Valley to Christmas shop. Every time I venture out into the cold, cruel

world of the greater Eastside, I am reminded that I moved out of that mess for

good reason.

I am entirely capable of navigating gravel logging roads for miles

in order to find the perfect blackberry patch. But for the life of me, I

cannot figure out shopping center parking lots. Who designs those things?

Someone whose hobby is maze design? I cannot get a handle on what the

design guidelines were. To make it impossible to actually get in and out of

a shopping center? They got that one down pat. Maybe the goal was to

make the shopper completely dizzy. Gold star for the day.

I don’t understand. If a shopping center is oriented from north to

south, why is the parking lot in the shape of a snail eating a mouse? I am sure

the design looked great on paper. Very pretty. Useful no, but pretty yes.

And would someone please explain to me why there are NEVER exit signs? It

is not like parking lots are laid out in a grid. As far as I can tell, only one

in ten aisles goes anywhere. I never guess right on which is the through-aisle.

I just keep roaming around in circles. Maybe that is why those big SUVs

are so popular. It is not for snow, it is so you can put them in four wheel

drive and go right over those planters. I can guarantee if your goal is

straight ahead, you need to go right five rows, then left two and left again three,

then right, then left and there you are! Right where you started.

It doesn’t get any better when you get inside the stores. What with

mirrored walls and floor-to-ceiling displays, I am lost in under two

minutes. All this pain and confusion for what? Who in the world would want a

solid brass business card holder shaped like a herring? How many ugly

sweaters can America own? What is the deal with all the fuzzy stuff? On

what planet are electric pink fuzzy lamp shades a gift and not a cruel joke?

Inflatable furniture, I am speechless.

Don’t get me started on buying clothes. It is unendingly cruel

trying anything on. In the first place, no major retailer today is willing to

provide adequate staffing; therefore, all of the fitting rooms are locked. It

really doesn’t help even if they are unlocked.

I see myself everyday in the mirror when I get out of the shower,

and there is no arguing the fact. I do not look pretty naked. I can live with

that. What I cannot live with is being shoved into a box the size of a

phone booth with a floor to ceiling mirror to try on clothing. All I have to do is

take off my shirt that close to a mirror and my brain starts screaming:

“GET OUT! RUN FOR YOU LIFE.” And I do.

Luckily I live in the Snoqualmie Valley and do not have to venture

out into the cold, cruel world. The people I love are getting the things that I

love. You can get inexpensive baskets at Saint Vincent DePaul’s in

Carnation. Fill them with smoked cheeses and meats from Trims or awesome

muffins, cookies and cakes from the Little Country Bakery, both in Duvall.

One of the best gifts I ever gave was a basket with a bottle of

bubble bath, a bottle of champagne and a glass. I topped it off with a trashy

romance novel, chosen for its seductive photo of Fabio on the cover, that I

got at Duvall Used Books. Wrap the whole shebang in cellophane and it is

the perfect way for every woman I know to spend the afternoon.

I think I will get one for myself. I could use it after all that shopping.

Kate Russell lives between Carnation and Duvall. You can reach

her at Katemo1@email.msn.com.