For some of us, red envelopes will take on a special significance next week. Likely, for those giving rather than receiving, it will take on an unpleasant financial significance. This may be another reason why some folks start avoiding their single friends once they're married. For a few of us, red envelopes are significant all year around, especially the ones measuring eight inches by six inches and containing loads of cash DVDs.

Whenever a red envelope appears in my mailbox, I do a little dance of joy. Whenever two arrive, I bust out some John Travolta. Goodness knows what moves I'd attempt if three were to show up simultaneously. I can only hope they would make Ellen DeGeneres proud.

There's nothing like the excitement of opening a red envelope. It has become one of my favorite rituals, on par with eating Skittles in the proper color sequence (yellow, green, purple, orange and red). I tear along one perforated edge and then along the perforated flap, careful not to rip it since it happens to be part of the return envelope (ingenious!). I gently peel back the round sticker to detach the "Tell a Friend!" slip, but never tell any friends.

Then comes the big moment, the moment that answers the question, "What film is inside?" There is a dramatic pause and a silent drum roll. The tension mounts. It's like waiting for Harrison Ford to announce the Oscar for Best Picture. With a rush of exhilaration, I tug the DVD jacket from the pocket and read the title, which often comes as a surprise, a result of queuing films months in advance.

Watching the movie is usually quite entertaining, but passive and boring by comparison. The thrill happens in front of the mailbox, not the television. Anticipation only begins to rebuild as the credit sequence rolls. I place the DVD back in its sleeve, which I insert upright into the return envelope. With everything sealed, I send it off, knowing that another red envelope of happiness will soon be on its way.