It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas *shudder*

Vintage Holiday Ornaments … oh dear.

Christmas, in some ways, is my worst nightmare.

It's the shopping. I'm not great at shopping. It takes me forEVER to make a decision and I'm picky. Constant refrains at the mall include, but are not limited to:

• "It's too itchy."

• "I'll think about it."

• "I'll come back for it."

• "It's on the list."

• "Maybe."

• "Line is too long."

• "Can someone pah-lease make a sweater without wool?!"

• "Meh."

• "Bulges in all the wrong places."

• "Hate with the white hot heat of a thousand burning suns."

• "Pas mal."

• "Who thought these colours would be a good idea? Isn't there any grey or black?"

• "Got something with a little bling?"

• "Too much bling."

• And more often then not..."Get this thing OFF ME... I'm getting HIVES!"

Wool: Worst nightmare #2.

So at Christmas, this whole picky shopper thing is compounded with buying for other people, plus decorating my own Parisian apartment with a few decorations so that, as *some people* in my *family* MIGHT say, "We don't look like Jehovah's Witness."

Since I lived out of a suitcase for a long time, I have zero Christmas tree decorations. ZERO. I'm starting from SCRATCH, which means there are even more choices than usual. Do I go with the traditional multicoloured festive tree? The modern white and silver? Vintage blues and pinks? Choices, choices, choices.

Plus, I still have the One Suitcase habit, which means everything is scrutinized by size, weight and fragility in addition to the usual scrutiny of cost and aesthetic.

It's a nightmare being in my head sometimes.

I still look at my cast iron cookware not as the marvel of culinary magic that it is, but as something very heavy I'll likely have to schlep somewhere someday.

The result of my holiday decor shopping is likely going to result in a pack of bulbs from the Parisian version of the dollar store and me gazing woefully at the Christmas tree from my heavy couch feeling cheap, fatigued, defeated and remorseful of my choices.

Oh how I yearn for a time when I was too young to buy holiday ornaments. They were just there on the tree being blissful holiday bling.