Curse you, Special Events!

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As wonderful as working at Special Events can be, the experience has ruined me. And this is because I have now seen so many beautiful meals, floral arrangements and decor installations that I firmly believe life is so, so much better if it is art-directed.

In my old, "amateur" days, my Christmas presents were a merry jumble of colorful ribbons and wrapping paper in clashing patterns. But no more.

Now, all my presents are always wrapped in one beautiful paper--this year, dark blue with gold snowflakes--and three varieties of gold ribbon. The result is striking enough for a magazine cover---but only after I hide the "nonstandard" presents, wrapped by those unfortunate enough to be my friends and relatives, beneath some hefty branches.

I am ashamed that I am failing the test of true Christmas spirit, but alas, it's too late.

I'm a little like post-apple Eve--wiser about all that is available in the world but bereft of my innocent, "before" life, when I simply enjoyed what I had without yearning for some "wow" effect.

Of course, I blame this all on you, my talented readers. You are always looking at what is in front of you—a blah ballroom, a ho-hum house—and imagining what it could be with some brilliant design and crafty engineering. In your mind's eye, you are already painting the building façade in projection mapping and draping the Brooklyn Bridge in tulle.

So, I'm thinking about Christmas 2013. Wouldn't it be wonderful if ….

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