A retrospective, in receipts

The problem with doing my taxes so early is that I'm not quite ready to face the cold hard truth about my year as reviewed through my expenditures.

Since I'm not really great at keeping my calendar/log/journal, my receipts are the only real marker for how I spent my time as well as my money. This Quicken thing is a killer. Categorizing is kind of my worst nightmare and I'm pretty sure I'm not even doing it right. I can't imagine what my retrospective would look like if I actually used this software to its fullest potential. Basically I think it is genius to be able to download all my transactions from various financial institutions so I'm not typing everything into a spreadsheet. I am aware that it is like buying a fancy computer and then just using Word. I know I should learn to really use Quicken. Learning about finances did move up to #2 on my list this year. I've also heard there is a 2010 version of Quicken for mac coming out soon. I do love new stuff. So perhaps this will be the year.

I do know how to run a report to get my category totals. So yes, I am awesome. I flirt with the button that says it will show me my finances in graphs and pie charts but I never actually do it. Which is weird because I love pie. Truth be told I am terribly frightened of seeing a giant pie that says "clothing - kl" with just a tiny sliver of important stuff like "retirement." Again, I am awesome.

The retrospective usually goes something like this:

"huh, did I ever wear that shirt?"
"what the heck did I buy there?"
"Oh, I love that dress, why don't I wear that more often?"
"Ok, enough hair products. That budget is getting cut this year...that reminds me I'm low on pomade."
"That's right, I haven't worn that because I never did find the right top for it. Keep looking."
"Yeah, I never could get out of the house in that."
"This sucks. I could be watching Grey's Anatomy."
"Why don't I sell some of this shit on ebay?"
"If I just did my shopping by deductible category, this would be so much easier."
"I really didn't go enough places this year to wear all this."
"Yes, that outfit only had one outing but I still think it is classic."
"No, really. What was I thinking?"
"Gosh these pugs cost a lot of money. Well, the bee costume was a necessity."
"Oh fun. I painted the apartment last year. I really should finish those shelves."
"Why haven't I collaged that table yet?"
"Holy crap on the craft supply hemorrhage! I cannot buy another thing until I use up every last thing I have."
"All in all I have very little to show for my year."

I really do need to keep a more lively journal because this shit is depressing.

A wrinkle in time (and wrinkles are never good).

The beginning of November is usually a time of hope and optimism for me. At this time of year I plan on getting all my holiday shopping done early, all of my loose ends tied up, my finances in order, my house cleaned and organized and everything in my life exactly as it should be (whatever the flip that means). It is as if I believe that every December 31st, I will expire and I must be ready (for what I am not sure).

I never ever actually get even close to meeting these lofty goals and they are therefore transferred to my New Year's resolution/to do list. Every year I think I am being proactive and on top of things and then suddenly it is Christmas and I haven't really gotten anything done.
I am always so surprised.

This time of year seems proof that time isn't linear but bends in the most obnoxious way. It can't possibly be my fault.

I'm aware of the pattern and yet every year I can't help but think "this year it will be different." So here I am, thinking about the gifts I will or will not be able to afford to give and how I might make personal and unique gifts as a way to make up for their inherent frugality.

If I do actually buy gifts way ahead of time, I usually forget that I've gotten them only to find them way after the fact. However, if I do think of a really special homemade gift, it is usually far too late in the game to make it a reality.

Because I have to mail all my gifts it would really behoove me to get it done early (and I know this) but I usually end up spending as much for shipping as I spent on the gift itself because I am apparently a hopeless procrastinator.

You would think that all this knowing and planning would help. But it doesn't.

I should probably just accept the fact that it will be the same this year.

But I won't.

This charade is clearly a nice, warm, familiar blanket.

How will I know it is Christmas without it?

The sole that sunk a thousand ships full of shoes

I may have said this before. It is hard to keep track and let's face it, I've admitted to having recurring/repeat thoughts.

I don't understand people who "don't like" to shop. I'm married to one and I still can't get over how weird it is. Newshead's idea of shopping is going in, getting exactly what you were looking for and walking out. Bizarre.

I bring things home for him because if I had to wait for him to go shopping for clothes, he would look like a homeless person after awhile. If you are having any doubts, this is a person who says "but I have a pair of brown shoes" and until they fall off his feet he doesn't see the need for another pair. First of all, just because they are brown doesn't mean they are the same. Secondly, I don't believe in a universal, uber shoe. Doesn't exist. Shoes have a great deal of personality and they have quite a bit to say. They can change a blah outfit into something special. The right shoes have the power to elevate your entire look. It is all about the details and shoes are a very important detail, please don't neglect them.

Not only does Newshead dislike shopping, he is actually suspicious of stores. Buying him things is like navigating a land mine, one wrong move and that's it. I finally got him to wear a new pair of brown shoes to work and an hour later he emailed me to say that the sole was coming off. Then he said we better return all the shoes because the store was obviously trying to sell us crap. One pair of faulty shoes on a clearance rack and the entire industry just crumbled. It is lunacy and I'm not quite sure how to combat such faulty logic. Talk about throwing out the baby with the bathwater. It is enough to drive a style therapist to madness.

There are a lot of people out there like Newshead.

I have got my work cut out for me.

Marketing people must love me to death

So I am a HUGE fan of Project Runway as I have stated. Tonight I stumbled upon an infomercial for Heidi Klum's product "In an Instant." It apparently softens your wrinkles ummm instantly. I watched it for only about 5 min and they weren't telling me where I can get it and how many billions of dollars it is going to be. So I went online to check it out. It is $39.99 (why is it always something .99?)

Anyway, I caught myself mid purchase and realized I didn't really know what I was doing. All I know is I have wrinkles, I love Heidi Klum and she is telling me it works and I believe her. How long has Heidi been moonlighting like this?

Now I'm confused. I still really want it but I feel I owe it to myself and my pocketbook to pause a moment and really look into this product instead of thinking "if I hate it, I can get my money back." I LOVE trying new things. As I have also stated, I love believing in magic. I am not gullible, I'm full of hope. HUGE difference and to prove my point, tomorrow I will tell you about something I'm not getting sucked into.

So I am going to wait a few days and see if I'm still thinking about it. Or maybe I'll get it when the brand new wrinkle helper I just bought runs out.

This is my new thing. I pause. Most of the time I end up getting whatever it is but sometimes I don't.

For me that is progress.

Just when I was feeling ordinary...

So apparently I am now a "V.I.B"

Don't know what that is? Well let me tell you, it is a "very important beauty insider." Sephora has bestowed this honor on me and I have to say, I am honored. It isn't everyday you get an email like that.

What does that mean, you ask? It means that I have spent so much money (that I don't have) at Sephora that I am invited to spend even more. There are even more enticing deals to bring me to makeup and skin care central with more reasons to spend money. Why yes, I DO get a holiday bonus (it sounds a little like a job, actually) and guess what, the more I spend, the more my bonus is. I freakin' love this place.

And let me tell you why.

Everyone likes a reward card that costs no money and brings you treats and special status for buying the things you love. They really know how to make a girl feel special. Tops in my book. I'm not a fan of any reward program that costs money on top of the money you already spend there.

The Sephora Spectacular houses under one roof, a veritable plethora of beauty products. It has so many different lines of makeup and skin care that you could really spend days and days and not see it all. I've spent an entire afternoon drawing on my hand with the urban decay eyeliners trying to decide which shade of purple to get.

As soon as I found out about my new status, I went right over. I was dying to see if things looked different as a V.I.B. I wasn't ready to spend my inaugural, "welcome to the special club of spendy spenders" discount but I did want to scope out the place.

Right now, Dior has the most amazing shade of red nail polish. It is like a cranberry crossed with candy apple. It is divine. I used the tester to paint two of my nails and it is beautiful. It is fascinating that they only have one shade of nail polish. Brilliant marketing. It makes one feel like that is the uber color for fall. There is only one and this is IT. It is also expensive which makes you feel like it is an indulgence. I'm still thinking about it. These people are geniuses!

Here's something else I've discovered during operation recon at the Sephora, they are doing something called "Express Services." Each one has a different focus but the jist is, that one of their experts will give you a mini lesson on a different aspect of makeup application. The one coming up is called "Candy eye." Phenomenal. The beauty expert who was dressed in all black with her official black, expert smock, was wearing blue, white and pink eyeshadow with a glittery eyeliner and it looked amazingly neat. I was super impressed.

Candy eye!

Newshead sees the world in conspiracies. I, on the other hand am full of admiration for marketing ploys. Let them conspire to take my money by offering me a gift and an elite status that no one knows about.

Joke's on them. I was gonna shop there anyway.

A Whole me at the Whole Foods

What is it about the Whole Foods that is so completely amazing? Is it the beautifully colored and stacked produce? Is it the brown rice sushi? Is it really high prices?

Something about just being there makes you feel like you are a healthier human being. It is gourmet combined with organic/environmentally consciousness. It is like nutty, crunchy, tree hugging fanciness. Who could ask for anything more?

I went in to find some dandelion tea that I read about online (I will plan to drink it two times a day and that will last about 1 day). But still. My intentions are fantastic and I wandered around the whole store for over an hour so all that healthy goodness must have sunk in just a little bit, right?

It isn't just food but their herbs, vitamins, and products are a vortex of "this will make me such a better person" spendiness.

Their prices are ridiculous. But even that makes them this unattainable, quarterback of the football team, "I'll be happy if he just says 'hi,'" I love you anyway fantasy that you can be very close to. You can buy some dandelion tea and pretend you spend all your time there.

It is a really satisfying place to be. That is all I'm trying to say.

Is it just me or are you crazy?

So, I was sharing the size 7 clearance aisle at DSW with a woman and her, no more than 9 month old, son. Oh, and their giant stroller. You know what. Mom's need to shop. I get it. However, I didn't appreciate having to hear their really loud, I mean LOUD, one sided (for obvious reasons) conversation. It was non stop talking in that fake, high pitched, sing songy tone. All the while being completely in my way.

"I know. Those are cute aren't they? You're cute too. Yes, you are. Oh look at these." "You ruined mommy's figure and her feet. Didn't you? Didn't you? Oh well, you're worth it." "Oh, what's wrong. You can't let mommy shop. I know. I know. What? What? These look nice."

What the fuck? Is she kidding me with this? It is as if she were having the conversation for my benefit. Well here's a tip: DON'T. If you want to talk to me, talk to me. If not, why don't you try using your 'inside voice'.

"What? What? These aren't for mommy now. Back in the day maybe." "what do you think of these. Huh? You like them? Do you? Come on what? Sparkly huh?" "I know. I know what you want. Hold on. Ok, but just wait. Here you go"

At this point she sits on the floor in the aisle and starts breast feeding. And the chit chat continued. Great. I'm out. I can't shop for shoes now. This is ridiculous. The stroller in the way, them in the way, and the constant fucking inane chatter!

"YOU ARE RUINING THE CLEARACE AISLE FOR ME!"

I didn't scream out loud. Only in my head.

Seriously, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say the minimum age of someone to solicit fashion advice from is 5 years old.

I'm gonna hold firm on that.

The ancient art of shopping

Tomorrow is a shopping day. Rose is still on the hunt for silver pumps and Tracy and I are only too happy to oblige. Serious, mission oriented shopping is nothing to sneeze at and there many important considerations. Shopping outfits for one. Comfort and simplicity are of the utmost importance. Comfort because I'm likely to be out for the length of an entire work day and simplicity because trying things on shouldn't be a complicated affair. Shoes with lots of buckles would be cumbersome and any outfit that is difficult to reassemble in a tiny dressing room would just be an unnecessary hassle. The opposite is true if you are actually trying not to fall in love with anything. Then by all means make it as difficult as possible. In certain situations you need to be prepared to try things on over your clothes so I try not to wear anything too bulky. One of the hardest outfits to put together is the perfect shopping outfit. It requires a certain amount of endurance and yet must retain the proper level of happy making cuteness. Also don't forget to bring a sweater for later in the evening and a comfortable purse is a MUST.

Oh I have more tips. Read on.

The proper level of hydration is an important consideration. If shopping in an area where bathrooms are a rarity, you must go before you leave and stop drinking as soon as you do. This is the one time I will say leave that water bottle at home. You should strategically find some water when you are out (about 30 minutes before you anticipate finding a restroom). If you have dips in energy that will prove a liability or will thwart your mission, you MUST bring a snack. Or take some drugs. Almonds, string cheese, caffeine, whatever. I don't suggest candy. Trust me when I say, a Mike and Ike sugar crash is not what you need when you are thinking about making a purchase. That never ends well.

It is key to remember that there are a lot of annoying people out there in the shopping world. You must not let them get to you. Use affirmations or deep breathing or whatever works for you. Don't engage in their crabbiness or their weird competitive shopping rituals. Remember shopping is a sport but it isn't a competitive one. There is always going to be more stuff and more deals and nothing is worth ruining a pleasant day.

When Love Hurts

I was wearing some great shoes today. I love them. I had a plan to elevate my simple jeans and t-shirt thing with an interesting shoe choice. It made me happy.

Until they started to hurt. I was off in my calculations (how hot it is going to be x how much walking x how long I'm going to be out). It was too hot and therefore blisterville came earlier than I expected.

Luckily my last stop was the shoe store. I was on a mission for others today (yes I do shop for other people as well as myself). Kim needed to replace a brand new pair of yellow patent leather t-strap cuties that the neighbor's dog chewed (ouch!) and Rose is on the lookout for silver pumps. So, if the pain got to be too much, I was in the perfect place to remedy my situation.

I hobbled my way into the store (I never realized how long that walk was from the parking lot to the door). I immediately took my own shoes off. Which is weird when you aren't actually trying anything on yet but what are they going to say?

"No shoes. No service"

That wouldn't make any sense.

I made my way to the clearance section to see if any magic was going to happen. There really is nothing better than finding an expensive, beautiful, perfect pair of shoes that match the exact mood you are in with a 70% off sticker on them. Or finding a needle in a haystack as is the case with Kim's shoes.

Unfortunately today wasn't a magical day of gasps, sparkles and unicorns. In fact, there wasn't anything that made my heart skip a beat.

I began to look for an inexpensive but cute pair of flip flops to wear home and wouldn't you know it, there wasn't anything under $25.00.

Now, I love shoes. I love lots of things but I don't take any of it lightly. When I was little I loved my new shoes so much I would wear them to bed. I am of the mind that I simply cannot spend money on anything that doesn't make me feel like that. If I don't REALLY love it, if I wouldn't wear it or take it to bed, then I can't get it. No matter how much it is. And today's situation was especially stressful because I needed to be so sure about my choice that I would wear it out of the store, hence rendering it unreturnable. No room for doubt.

This poses a problem when you are standing in a sea of shoes with blistered feet and you can't find anything that fits that criteria. I couldn't spend $25.00 on a pair of flip flops when really all I needed was a bandaid.

After going around the store for a third time (I couldn't quite comprehend the fact that in this huge store there wasn't one pair I would take to bed with me), I came upon a pair of flats that looked eco-friendly (you know the style) and great for fall. They were super comfortable and I kind of loved them. I got excited but then as I was walking up to the register I started second guessing my motives. Was I talking myself into this choice out of necessity and pain or did I really love them? I became paralyzed for a moment. I started to wonder if I would just stay in the store forever, trapped by my own cluster fuck of indecision, self doubt and my inability to walk.

Eventually I started to get exasperated and annoyed with myself.

The only way to know if I love the shoes is to wait until I am out of desperation's clawing grip. I could

a) leave them there and hobble home
or
b) buy them and hobble home.

I'm staring at them right now. I can't wait to see how we feel about each other in the morning.

It's sick really

I went to the doctor to have a mole type thing removed from my practically transparent, cancer magnet of an epidermis. (Oh for some beautiful, protective pigment). I don't actually have the c word yet but I'm pretty sure it's lurking so I constantly go to the dermatologist and point to things on my body that I'm concerned about. I don't like going to the doctor at all and I'm not a hypochondriac. I am really trying to see if I can get some microdermabrasion or some other fabulous facial type service and have it only cost me a co-pay. The upside of the HMO is that I can go to the doctor whenever I want without worrying about spending too much. The downside is they're not into microdermabrasion or anything fancy. So the doctor removed the mole type thing and said I could go down to the pharmacy and get this antibiotic ointment stuff. Which I assumed was like neosporin which I have at home. I was about to leave when I started thinking

"well maybe it isn't like neosporin. Maybe it is better than neosporin. I like neosporin a lot, I think it is miraculous but maybe I want something new. I'll just go down to the ghetto pharmacy in the building and check it out. I mean, if I don't need it I won't get it. This place is so dingy. Hmmm what are those? pill boxes. I could use a pill box. These aren't bad. I would buy that. Ok, if I'm getting the ointment, I'll get that hand lotion too. Maybe I should get this chapstick. I don't really need it but I'll get it since I'm here. They don't really have much and all these boxes look dusty. Oh, here's the ointment. It isn't even prescription. It is exactly like neosporin. Should I get it anyway? No. Jesus. Get it together! You don't need anything. Krista, put everything down and walk out of the gross pharmacy NOW!"

This just proves that I could find something to buy anywhere. I do have a sickness.

The secret art of attracting repellent

Kim is in town and we have all sorts of goals during our time together. She was on the hunt for an "Off Fan" thing that you clip to yourself and it apparently emits bug spray without you having to wear any. It sounds like it creates a bug repellent aura around you. Neat. Apparently they flew off the shelves in Illinois. So it became a quest for her to find it. It isn't even for her but for someone else. I, of course, completely understand that nagging "I have to find this" feeling and the sense of personal challenge it can bring. I was recently challenged to find a discontinued shade of OPI (actually for Kim) and I scoured the city and then online to find it. That feeling of satisfaction when you accomplish a shopping mission is unparalleled.

We found the Off Fan at the first place we looked. It was the last one on the shelf, which made the victory even sweeter. It was an exciting moment in the Rite Aid for her. I was also elated because I love nothing more than being a part of the moment of success. Contrary to popular belief, shopping is, in fact, a team sport and I get points for the assist.

That being said, I'm extremely wary of the fashion choice of clipping a (not so small) fan to your outfit. I can see sitting next to it at a bbq, but clipping it to yourself? Ummmm, no. Now I will admit that zillions of people must disagree since this item is so hard to find. However, I will say in support of my case, I have never seen anyone actually wearing the fan. You would think that a hard to find item would mean that you are seeing people all over the place wearing their battery operated, personal fans.

"OMG where did you find that? I can't get one anywhere. Not even on Ebay."
"you know I got lucky. A friend of a friend works at a place that had some accidentally delivered there and she held one for me."
"I got mine on the black market and I paid wayyyyy to much for it. But totally worth it."
"Listen, I got in on the ground floor. I've always been ahead of my time when it comes to bug repellent and fashion fans."

Well, it looks like I missed out and will have to stick to the old fashion sprays. My picks: Skin So Soft (for you and your dog) or Flea the Scene (insect repellent and sunscreen for the pup).

He said it, I said it and we were all thinking it so what's the big deal?

There is a lot to be said about the mall. Especially a mall next to a mall. I can't say enough good things about being able to run from store to store for hours on end looking for a needle in a haystack. It is very satisfying.

Today I was on a shopping mission. I went alone as my time was short and my goals large. I normally love shopping with others, but today I didn't have time to entertain anyone else's agenda so I had to fly solo.

I was looking for a lightweight cargo type pant. Seems a simple enough task. Not so. I mistakenly thought that the cargo was seasonless and always in style.

However, I could not find what I was looking for anywhere. I don't give up or tire easily. I wasn't being lazy about it. I simply couldn't find them.

Come on. In my mind I was thinking I would have to sift through the billions of different kinds of cargo pants to find the perfect ones for me (and by that I do mean my special needs thighs).

No no, I'm not being mean to myself, I am being factual. I'm not really emotional about it (anymore). My thighs are disproportionately large. They are muscular, a thought I used to try and comfort myself with in school. Hmmmm.

My thighs have been this way since about the third grade. I distinctly remember sitting in the second row from the left in Mrs. McCabe's class wearing thick Lee jeans on one of the hottest days of the year. (Nancy wouldn't let us wear shorts to school. Cardboard wings and a crown were fine, but shorts were apparently hideously offensive and inappropriate). I looked down at my legs which I was sure I would find to be on fire when I noticed that my thighs "spread out" on the chair more than most everyone else's did. This was the beginning of a life long obsessive hate/hate relationship with my thighs. Additionally, it was about this time that I began to appreciate the "no shorts" rule.

I would like to present to the unbelievers, exhibit A:

In the 7th grade Tony soandso called me "tree trunk legs." I was mortified. Mostly because it confirmed the conversation I had been having in my head for years. I said it. He said it. And now it was out there.

My thighs became an individual that seemed separate from myself. I talked to them and about them constantly. It wasn't just about their size either. Their length came under fire, their pasty plucked chicken skin appearance elevated them to freak show level in my mind.

Anyway, because of my limbs, buying pants has always been a challenge. Jeans especially. I need a wide leg for my wide leg.

I love when I actually find a pair of pants that is "thigh minimizing." I usually by two. In every color. That is why I was looking forward to my cargo pant hunt. The chances of there being a baggy but flattering pair with the pockets in all the right places seemed good. However, much to my chagrin, the linen pant seems to have replaced the cargo for the time being.

I may have come up empty today but I am like a dog with a bone when I get a fashion "want" in my head. Cargo pants now have a holy grail quality about them and I will continue my quest in other cities and on the web and to lands far beyond if necessary.

Thunder thighs may have won this round but I have many cards yet to play. What am I, an amateur?

It is better to have loved and lost...

So I've been in a long distance relationship with this couch for quite awhile now. The flirtation began when I got my Cb2 catalog in the mail last year which then lead me to the website. I guess I will have to admit that this started as an online relationship, of which I am not ashamed, anyone who is anyone uses modern technology to date. I really fell hard for the look of the piazza sofa. Really inviting, a handsome photo and an intriguing profile. Hmmm. Wait, I already have a couch. Moving on.

At the time the only Cb2 on the west coast was in San Francisco so it was safe to say that we'd just have to see how this long distance thing would work. I was sure it was doomed.

However, back in October, I had a freelance job that took me to San Francisco and the most exciting part of visiting there for the first time was the opportunity to see the Cb2 and the beautiful piazza sofa.

Yes, I'm aware there is other stuff but I am really focused people.

I found my way there the first day. Leigh Anne, one of my top shoppingmates, was with me. (She is an uberpractical girl who somehow manages to maintain a savings acount AND be really fashionable. It is admirable). We took a turn around the coveted Cb2 and all its super hip cuteness when there it was: The piazza sofa with its irresistable "come hither" cushiness. After all this time of online coquetry we were finally face to face.

Let me tell you, it did not disappoint. I am not kidding when I say this is the most comfortable couch I have had the pleasure to sit on. It is the kind of couch that you can fantasize doing everything with. I know it is against the "rules" but I could see our whole life together.

I had no intention of cheating on my couch but these things happen. I am really glad I wasn't alone or I would have bought it on the spot and had it shipped home creating an Agamemnon, Cassandra, Clytaemnestra type scene that would have been ugly. Not to mention a $1300 impulse buy would have been a record breaker. It took all my strength but I finally decided I was going to have to let it go.

We saw each other every day until I sadly took my leave. When I got home I couldn't stop thinking about the piazza. It was a wistful, bittersweet, Bridges of Madison County thing.

So imagine my surprise when I learned the piazza was coming to LA! I haven't seen it yet. I am so nervous that it will just be too painful. There is still so much that keeps us apart (like $1300.00 to be specific). I'm going to go eventually. It will be good for me. Maybe I'll find out it isn't everything I remember. Maybe. There is a bamboo bathmat that I am determined to purchase. It is like $20.00.

I know I'm settling you don't have to tell me.

Follow the link with caution, lest you get your heart broken.

http://www.cb2.com/family.aspx?c=102&f=4881

Beware the Ides of Thrift...

Ned, the newshead junkie, announced today that individual savings is at 4%. Now, I have no idea what that means (and it currently doesn’t pertain to me). However, when he started romanticizing about breadlines and the depression and how neat it would be if we lived in a box with only one outfit, I started to worry.

Now, Ned is a genius but he and hyperbole are on a first name basis so I have learned: questions first, panic later.

Hold on to your hats because this next bit is FASCINATING.

Apparently there is something called the “Paradox of Thrift” and everyone else probably learned about it in high school economics but I avoided any classes that had to do with numbers or politics, so this is completely novel.

During a recession the best thing to do individually is to cut spending and save money but if everyone does that, the economy as a whole suffers. Ned may have even used the word “plummet”. The why’s and wherefore’s have to do with my spending = another person’s income, supply and demand, blahdy meow meow.

The rest got boring but the important fact is this:
Today when I go out shopping with Rose, my plan to “look and covet but not buy” is actually detrimental to the entire economy. My attempts to not spend is actually very very selfish. I have always hoped that if called upon, I would (like Buffy) have the strength to sacrifice myself for the greater good. And now that time may have come. I think I’m ready.

While I may be forfeiting my own future well being, my shopping may actually SAVE THE WORLD. I’ll admit I have always suspected this to be true but it is great to have actual facts to back me up.

Death and Taxes and Dieting and Shopping

Tax time is an exercise in humiliation and failure.

Humiliation because, once again, I have not learned a thing about money even though it is #3 on my New Year’s Resolution list EVERY YEAR (Become alarmingly skinny is always #1, organizing my collection of little pieces of paper #2) and failure because my veneer of being a responsible adult completely crumbles as my eyes fill with shocked and bewildered tears and I sputter incoherently at the stranger who I’m paying to prepare my taxes. “I make NO money how could I possibly owe????” All the while I’m hoping they don’t notice my adorable and obviously brand new faux snake skin flats. I got them for practically nothing but they don’t know that.

Please don’t misunderstand me I don’t have buyer’s remorse. On the contrary, what I can’t wrap my brain around is why in the world I can’t claim my spending addictions as “dependents”. It seems unfair that my taxes go to schools and various kid friendly government programs when I DON’T HAVE ANY! Why, again, do I have to support other people’s breeding while they get a GIANT deduction for each little bundle they pop out? It is totally backwards and makes no sense to me. I am choosing to not have children therefore I should be able to allot that money toward a senseless but trendy ruffle blouse that I will wear once (still in for spring) and that, as my friend, Rose, claims “looks like a bustle for your boobs.”

I mean, come on, dieting alone is like a child I have nursed and nurtured for decades and, ps and by the way, I don’t see that changing in the near future. If it were up to me I should get $3400.00 for Dieting (my first born) and another $3400 for Shopping (the spoiled little baby of the family).
My kids are as much trouble as the next

“Dieting! How many times have I told you to take that fat roll off of mommy’s stomach?!?”

I need that money to keep them in line and to pay for their training and supplies.

I guess I should have sent the IRS one of those freakishly annoying “Christmas letters” so they would realize that I legitimately need that money.