All I want for Christmas is...please just tell me

Christmas shopping is a stressful task. I view it not only as buying people presents but also as discovering how well you actually know your family and friends. Can you pick them out something that they will like or use or not just throw in the closet until they re-gift it to someone else? Do you have the faintest clue about your loved ones' likes/dislikes, hobbie/obsessions, needs/base desires? How I fared this year:

Mom - last year, I just asked her husband what I should get her - which were flannel pajamas - which I never would have thought to buy on my own. This year, I attempted to pick the perfect gift all by myself. My mom doesn't like perfume, doesn't wear jewelry, is picky about clothing, and already has a house packed full of everything she needs. She does, however, occasionally wear barretts, so I got her a nice lacquer one from the Black Cat.

Dad - has an extreme aversion to gifts. To the point where he made his girlfriend agree not to exchange presents this year. I try to get around this by either giving him food or alcohol. At Dibruno Brothers, I bought him apricot jam and plum preserves and some imported cheeses. I'm pretty sure he was kind of peeved at me for buying him anything.

Brother and Brother's Wife - They have a 3-bedroom house, three cars, and a large flat-screen TV, so I feel like anything I buy them will be puny in comparison to what they already own. Therefore, I bought them presents for their cat and two dogs, including an argyle dog sweater.

Stepfather - I gave up on this one and just asked my mom. Last year, she told me to get a long-sleeved button-down shirt in "subdued red" color. This year, it was a long-sleeved button-down shirt in a "muted green" color. They don't have cable, but they seem to have picked up the nuances of subtle shades of color from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy telepathically.

Dad's Girlfriend - I picked out a pair of glass earrings, handcrafted by a Philadelphia artist. I'm kind of interested to see whether she is as disinterested in gifts as my dad claims. I'm pretty sure my dad will be kind of peeved at me.

Cousin #1 - loves reading, especially Harry Potter. I got her a Philippa Gregory book and a box of Bert's Every Flavor Beans. Mmmmm...vomit-flavored jelly beans.
Cousin #2 - never met. She just moved to the US from Vietnam about 4 days ago. I got her gloves and cash.

Best Friend (BFF) - I bought gks an incense holder shaped like Cat Buddha. He bought me The Underachiever's Manifesto. We are soul mates.

My family doesn't really like talking, Part III

My sophomore year of college I came home one weekend to find my dad standing in the kitchen. We had this conversation:

Dad: Your mother's moving out this weekend into her own apartment.
Me: [stunned silence then manage to recover enough to give my dad an awkward side hug]
Dad: I guess you knew we've been having problems for a long time.
Me: [outloud] No. [to myself] absolutely no fucking clue.
Dad: Are you ok?
Me: Yeah.

Then I went to my room and cried on the phone to my best friend, which I can never seem to do in front of my family. Later that night:

Me: [curled up on the basement sofa staring blankly at the TV]
Mom: I wanted to check on you. Are you ok?
Me: Yeah.
Mom: Ok.

I went back to school and, after about a week passed, I started to wonder if my brother knew. So I did what any emotionally-repressed little sister would do: I got on AOL instant messenger.

Me72: You heard from Dad lately?
B_rother: No
Me72: He didn't call you? And tell you Mom moved out?
B_rother: Are you serious?
Me72: He didn't tell you?
B_rother: No.
Me72: Did you have any idea they had problems?
B_rother: Not really.

I know it sounds horrible, but I think both of us sort of preferred having this conversation on IM. We both absolutely loathe talking on the phone. I have a hard time getting him to call me back. In fact, I don't think he has ever called me back in the 25 years I have known him. My family has problems, I know.

My family doesn't really like talking, Part II

My now-stepfather and I got off to a rocky start. I first met him at Thanksgiving five years ago. He wore a bolo tie and then told us he was from New Hampshire. I held it against him for about a year. At Christmas break during my senior year of college, he and my mom picked me up from school. During the car ride back to my mom's house, we had this conversation:

Now-stepfather: So, your mom and I just wanted to let you know that I've pretty much been living with her.
Mom: He's putting his house on the market. Do you feel okay about this?
Me: [outloud] Um, yeah, great. [to myself] Why do my parents like telling me these things at the absolute last moment possible?

But he's a great guy, amazingly patient and good natured, and they got married last year. He makes my mom really happy, happier than I think I've ever seen her.

My family doesn't really like talking, Part I

My junior year of college my dad decided to take a sabbatical working for NASA starting after the holidays. It meant he would have to move to DC for the year. At Thanksgiving, he told us a friend of his was going to live in our house, take care of the place, and pay some rent. When my brother and I showed up at Christmas, his friend had already moved in. She had brought a lot of furniture with her - including a lifesize ceramic pig. It was a little unsettling to see someone else living in our home. It was more unsettling when, later that night, I realized my dad and his "friend" were staying in the same bedroom, the bedroom he had shared with my mom until their separation the year before.

During the week I was home, I didn't say anything to my dad about it. I generally try to avoid any situation that might involve talking about my feelings. After my brother went back to college, my dad sat me down one morning and asked if anything was wrong. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Are you and your friend dating?
Dad: Yes
Me: Why didn't you tell me?
Dad: I find it hard to talk to you. I'm sorry.
Me: [simmering anger]

Awkward silence for 2 straight minutes.

Then I left the house, drove to the movie theater where I watched "The Two Towers," and didn't come back home until that night. I stayed with them about a week more, not saying anything about what had happened. My dad and I have never talked about this incident since then.

Happy Birthday Dad!

My dad is violently opposed to getting presents or cards on any occasion. For Christmas, I have to give him things he absolutely loves and can't refuse, like a nice bottle of wine, passionfruit jelly, or the BeeGees Live in Concert album. Today is his birthday, so I sent him an ecard, figuring I wasn't actually giving him anything real. I could tell he appreciated it because he sent me one back 5 minutes later. He wrote the message on the card like he thought using Yahoo Greetings! was the equivalent of sending a telegram in 1885:

Thanks a bunch Julia STOP As you can see PAUSE I came back from Miami refreshed and tanned STOP Love Dad END

The card was an animation of monkeys with bananas dancing and singing "daylight come and you wanna go home." Just to be clear: by tanned he meant covered in monkey fur.

First post, whew, I'm tired.