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I live in -- and generally love -- Alamance County. Mebane, to be precise, where my husband and I bought a house over the summer after living there for several years in rental places. I occasionally carpool with another page designer to get to Greensboro, saving the earth and some cash.

Last week, as my coworker and I headed toward I-40, we passed a new road sign on Trollingwood Road, just before a big industrial complex. The sign says:

INDUSTIAL ENTRANCE

Consider: There are signs on 40 touting Alamance as "your link to the future," and we can't spell "industrial" right?

I may feel my first act of vandalism coming on. I don't think it should count as a criminal act if you're putting on a copy-editing symbol and an R, should it?

I was in Target earlier today, poring over which "Star Wars"-themed LEGO set to get for my 60-year-old father for Christmas. (The plan is for my taking-one-for-the-team husband to spend some time putting together said LEGO set, thus, we hope, thwarting the usual fights my father and I get into whenever we're around each other.)

I had just decided on one when a boy of 8 or so and his mother came up the aisle. The boy saw me put the rather sizable box in my basket and immediately said to his mom, "I want a LEGO, too, Mommy! I want a LEGO box, too!"

I, mercifully child-free, scurried away to continue shopping, the little boy's pleas ringing in my ears. And I thought, Yoda was right. Fear, anger, aggression ... these lead to the dark side.

So, apparently, does seeing someone else getting a really cool-looking "Star Wars" LEGO set.

Anyone who knows me at all will tell you I love presents. Big or small, cheap or pricey, for occasions or no reason at all, I don't care; I just love presents. I often feel greedy about this, and as a seminarian, I feel like greed is a less-than-ministerial quality I should try to rid from my life as much as possible. (Greed is, after all, no. 3 on ye olde list of seven deadly sins.)

Before I lay eyes on a gift, I grill the giver: Bigger than a breadbox? Smaller? Is it alive? Have I shown it to you in a store? When I invariably get nowhere with my questioning, I examine the wrapped presents. I turn them over carefully, shake them to hear if anything moves, sniff them to see if there's a telltale odor. Again, I always strike out. But that's fun: To me, it isn't about greed, about having that one more thing; It's about the fun of anticipation, wondering what will be there when I tear off that paper.

The other day as I was wrapping presents, and again today as I was doing more shopping, I was reminded of something important: I don't just love getting presents; I love giving them, too, almost as much as I love getting them.

Giving presents is great because you pick out something special for someone you care about, and you get to anticipate their delight at receiving it; that's why I rail against the pervasiveness of registries for every bloody occasion these days. If you're buying for charity, you wrap the gift knowing that you're providing a present to someone who might not have many -- or any -- others.

For me, there's something fun about simply wrapping gifts, whether in the comics section (save the planet!) or by reusing a froofy gift bag I've gotten something in previously. And, of course, there's the joy of what my husband's family refers to as "rip-and-shred": the Christmas-morning orgy of present-opening to reveal what lies beneath the pretty paper and bows.

So, next time you're standing in line to check out and everyone around you is grumpy, and you aren't in such great emotional shape, either, I say stop feeling crabby about spending money and instead think of the joy that getting gifts brings -- and know that you give the gift of joy with every present you buy.

I spent January in Chicago (not something I recommend, weather-wise), nestled happily in Hyde Park where my seminary is, and I heard more emergency sirens than I have in my previous two January stays. It seemed like every day I strained to hear my classmates over the roar of an ambulance or firetruck.

I got home a week ago, and it took me a few days to realize it, but I didn't hear a siren until about two days ago. I love Mebane; I love the Triad, where the screech of emergency vehicles isn't a constant.

You just don't realize what you have until it's gone, I guess. And in this case, I'm glad of it!

My mother was in town until yesterday evening, and in the week she was here, we did more fun things in Greensboro than in all the years I've lived here, practically. To wit: Last Thursday we saw "Rent" at the coliseum. Sunday afternoon we attended Nikki Giovanni's free poetry reading at the Carolina Theatre, and a few hours later we saw Polecat Creek's free concert at Center City Park. So next time you're sitting around bored, thinking there's nothing to do, or that you can't afford to do it, pick up Go Triad or go online and find something: There are lots of fun, free events all the time, but especially with the bicentennial happening. I tend to be a homebody, but I can honestly say I am so glad we went to everything we did. We were exhausted, but better off for it!