This week I stumbled across an archaic 12-year-old blog I wrote.

The subject?

How to properly shop for me for Christmas.

At the top of the list was—shocker!—several bottles of Chardonnay—um, and a bottle of incredibly pricey cologne I wore for about ten minutes in 2009.

The blog was a selfish little time capsule into my life back then. Fast-forward a dozen years and several things have changed. For one, I’m sober now—seven years and counting. Oh, and I’ve (mercifully) given up cologne and switched to wearing essential oils.

But I had to giggle about my holiday gift demands. Instead of telling both of my readers what I coveted, I painstakingly went out of my way to tell people what I didn’t want. 26 different items, to be specific.

Man, I was an asshole.

Now, I’m a little older and little wiser—and I know the importance of humbly accepting any gift that crosses my path. Sure, I might internally roll my eyes when my great aunt gives me another size medium (!!!) beige sweater on Christmas Eve, but I accept it with grace. (Keep in mind, I haven’t worn a size M sweater since, like, 4th grade. Bless.)

Moving forward, I’ve officially narrowed down my gift brigade to a mere four things:

B-52s memorabilia. (Uh, the band. Not the plane, kids.)
Starbucks gift cards.
A booklet of car wash/car detailing coupons.
Certificates to TanFastic Mobile. (Gurl, I do still love my spray tans.)

I figure any other present that lands at my doorstep is just a bonus. Like the year a quirky neighbor gave me a gigantic bird seed wreath that I hung outside said doorstep. It brought me an infinite amount of joy watching birds flock to it all winter long.

And because it’s better to give than receive, I think a bigger (and better) question is: What do you want for Christmas?

To be honest, I’m eager to know what’s on your wishlist.