For the wrapping-impaired, the holiday season is a time of great loneliness and frustration.

The wrapping-impaired are those of us - yes, I have suffered with the affliction for years - who want to wrap presents neatly and attractively, who yearn to make the flaps and creases and bows turn out just so, but who, for various reasons, cannot make their fat little fingers comply.

No matter how much effort we put into wrapping a gift, what results is a horrible, misshapen lump of torn paper and wilted ribbon affixed with wads and wads of Scotch tape.

Little wonder, then, that our cheeks burn with embarrassment when someone holds up a gift we've labored over with scissors and paper for hours and says, to much laughter: "Who wrapped this, a cornea donor?"

Unfortunately, there are few places to which the wrapping-impaired can turn for help.

No support groups exist for us; you won't find us sitting in folding chairs in drafty church basements as one sufferer after another rises to tell his story to encouraging murmurs of: "Be strong, brother."

Nor are there any national telethons where weepy hosts in tuxedos, their bow ties jauntily loosened, collapse in triumph and exhaustion after raising $60 million over three days for the fumble-fingered.

So we suffer silently.

Or we turn to people like Jodi Ceglia.

Ceglia, 28, of Ellicott City, is, by all accounts, an ace gift-wrapper whose creativity amazes her family and friends, and who was profiled in The Sun last month. So I called her yesterday for some tips, for a quick Idiot's Guide to Wrapping, if you will.

Ceglia is such a good wrapper, in fact, that in late November she competed in something called the Scotch Brand Most Gifted Wrapper Contest in New York City.

As you might imagine of a competition showcasing the best wrappers in the country, the eight contestants were not exactly asked to wrap ordinary, everyday gifts.

In the first round, for instance, each contestant was required to wrap a pair of boxing gloves.

In the second round, they had to wrap a large telescope. And the two finalists went on to wrap - get this - a child's jungle gym.

(This, of course, would cause a nervous breakdown in someone who is wrapping-impaired. I once spent two hours on Christmas Eve wrapping a Barbie doll house and have never been the same since.)

Ceglia didn't win the $10,000 grand prize, but she made it into the second round and took home $2,500, which, of course, makes her a goddess to those of us who can barely wrap a shirt from Eddie Bauer.

Anyway, before getting to the tips, I felt compelled to ask Ceglia about the gender issue in wrapping, the fact that the vast majority of the wrapping-impaired are, well, men.

"Oh, yeah," said Ceglia, who is the graphics design manager for the Community College of Baltimore County. "Although there were actually several males in the contest."

Then she went on to tell me about her husband Bill's wrapping abilities, which seemed to eerily parallel my own.

"Oh, he's horrible," Ceglia said. "There's tape everywhere. It looks like the scissors just went haphazardly [off] on their own. There's no ribbon, no bow, just a sticker."

Listening to this, I have to admit I got a bit teary-eyed. Here I didn't even know this guy and already I wanted to take the big lug out for beers.

Then it was time to get down to Jodi Ceglia's tips for gift-wrapping, which she imparted in the crisp, practiced tones of a football coach.

"The absolute first thing," she said, "is to be in the right frame of mind. You want to pick a time when you're not rushed."

Let's see, I figure the next time I won't be rushed is ... OK, when I'm dead. But can you wrap presents when you're dead?

"Then," Ceglia continued, "you want to pick an area where you have room," such as the kitchen or dining room table.

Also, she said, "you don't want a place where the dog's jumping up on the table and the kids are coming in and out."

Got it. No dogs, no kids ... that'll only happen when I'm dead, too.

The third thing, Ceglia said, "is to always have good supplies."

She mentioned a good pair of scissors. And since so many of the wrapping-impaired have trouble with tape - is there anything more heart-rending than watching a grown man claw frantically for the end of the tape with his stubby little fingers? - she suggested using pre-cut tape strips.

I guess all this was helpful, and I thanked Ceglia and wished her happy holidays.

But in the end, we in the wrapping-impaired community must look into our souls and acknowledge that all the time in the world and all the space to wrap and all the best wrapping supplies can't make up for the one basic flaw that has held us back all these years: a complete and utter lack of talent.

Admitting that is the first step toward healing.