eye of the shopper

Even though I'm still dancing around the idea of living The Compact, I had a compulsion to visit the [gulp] mall tonight. The pretense was finding items for the people my kids had selected from their school's Giving Tree this week - I don't want to get too creative & funky with the desires of those in need and besides, I don't think anyone at Etsy is making dresses or watches yet.

But really, I felt the need to go and accomplish something. I was out of Clinique soap plus needed to deliver a long-overdue Pampered Chef order to a friend (my party was at the end of October - sorry again & again, Nicole!) and she lives by the mall so I figured I'd burst in there, grab the goods then get the hell out of Dodge. I parked at Nordstrom because I was getting my soap there and somehow it just feels better entering the asylum mall through a classy store that smells good and doesn't scream WELCOME TO WHITE TRASH WORLD! TWO FOR ONE PIERCINGS TODAY! ENGORGE SOME KARAMEL KORN WHILE YOU WAIT!
(I really have issues with this place).

Well, if you give a mom a minute...I figured I should pick up a new eyeliner while I was at the Clinique counter because I've found it really is worth the ridiculous cost. I tried to be thrifty and use the .97 kind at Target last week and nearly scratched the skin from my eyelids. So I told the darling young Hali I also needed the "cream shaper for eyes" in a chocolatey brown. Being a trained salesgirl, she first picked up a darker color, marked on her hand and pronounced it "Dark, but has a really pretty green undertone" before swiping a lighter shimmery honey color. Frowning, "No, too light." Being a trained (but recovering, slowly) shopaholic, I nodded and smiled until she found the Chocolate Lustre I wanted. However, Hali was paying attention and had noticed my slight interest in the darker Egyptian liner; she sweetly asked if I always use the brown? Because this one would realllly bring out your eyes...Would you like me to put some on you? Suddenly, I am six and YES! I want you to put makeup on me! Clapping and bouncing!



I bought the Chocolate Lustre and the Egyptian. But I was able to resist the shimmery base and eye shadow duo! (This time).

off the wagon, moaning and bleeding

Hello, my name is Stephanie and I'm a shopaholic.
[Hi, Stephanie!]
________________________________
I would be lying if I said I didn't expect things to turn out this way. I know who I am. I knew the moment my best friend, who hates shopping almost as much as I hate water sports, asked if I would go with her to the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale, that I would be breaking The Compact. The sale started the day after we got back from Hawaii; she said she would be ready to go at 7am - would I? My heart raced. Yes! I would be! So what if I got into bed after midnight? I would be ready.

I told myself it would be my Jubilee Day, one time to buy with wild abandon like the American consumer I was born to be. Nevermind that I'd already had a Jubilee Day this year, when I temporarily lost my mind at GAP and Victoria's Secret last spring. That was different, I announced to my inner party pooper; I had coupons and I needed those things. It didn't really count.

We weren't able to go first thing on Friday because of a scheduling problem; I should have taken that as a sign to stay home. And my horoscope that morning actually read "Beware of making any impulse purchases today." But it just seemed too obvious to apply; it must mean something more symbolic. Like "Look before you leap" and "Don't put all your chickens in one bucket" or whatever - they don't really mean exactly what they say. So off we went to the mall at 3pm. I was giddy.

What I want to do right now is tell you all about the fantastic stuff I bought, and what great deals they were, but I know that's not the right thing to do. Like an alcoholic after a binge describing the smooth feel of the mochatinis in her mouth, I cannot talk about the soft ribbed knit of my new organic cotton sweaters and the fabulous businessy brown pinstriped pajama pants and...See! I'm so bad.

But I can't blame the whole trainwreck on my best friend, as much as I want to because she was the one who encouraged the pajama purchase (which included an adorable, soft-as-butter sand-colored hoody sweater so I can be warm AND fashionable with my laptop at 5am). I then deliberately took my GAP and Nordstrom credit cards to Portland last week when I dropped Mason off for his acting class. I had more coupons (damn you, bonus points!) and it was all tax-free but still, my children really did not need more socks and t-shirts. And a super cute pair of espadrilles that will fit Paige next summer...Stop it! Naughty naughty shopper.

On the positive side (there must be one, or else I would just wallow in guilt the rest of the summer. Though I would look stylish doing it...), I can pay for this spree with my final paycheck from teaching. Thank goodness for the crazy pay periods! Otherwise I would have to reconstruct that form I shredded...

Now I'm trying to figure out how to get back onto The Compact wagon, because I really do believe it's a more responsible way to live. It's just hard (I'm stamping my foot and frowning here). And I so like pretty clothes. New ones, with tiny gold safety pins holding leather tags...Somebody should slap me. Just don't make me bleed on my new Jag jeans.

i'm so ashamed

Forgive me father, for I have sinn...wait, I'm not Catholic - does this still work? [tap tap] Is this thing on??

I had a date with Harry Connick, Jr. tonight. Had to leave my son's variety show early to get there on time. It was delightful, just me & Harry. And, oh, 2000 other people. But still it felt very intimate, and I had a perfect straight on view of him at his piano. I'm sure he totally had eyes only for me, too, 18 rows back. In the dark. Whatever. The thing I'm so ashamed about is the sudden realization I had during the concert that I neglected to put Harry on my potential second husbands lists! Now, the lists have become a little ridiculous, I admit - I've put a moratorium on additions and started a 'flings' list instead now (because that's less ridiculous...). And honestly, my dear Mr. Connick, Jr. is happily married (um, like me, hi babe!) - he took his father-in-law to lunch yesterday then chatted with him onstage for a bit tonight. Oh, and Mrs. Connick, Jr. is the former Victoria's Secret model Jill Goodacre. Yeah. I'm out. But just for chuckles, here are some endearing and some less than qualities for the list, in case one day a) Stu dies or does something outrageously heinous, b) Mrs. Connick, Jr. dies or does something outrageously heinous, and c) I somehow don't get arrested for stalking him and he decides my devotion is charming.

pros: musical brilliance, generous with time & money, funny, self-deprecating wit, so handsome, adorable n'awlins accent
cons: pretty goofy, intense devotion to music, huge potential for weekly all-night jam sessions in the living room, a little too jazzed about Mardi Gras methinks

*whew* Glad I got that out of my system.

I'm also ashamed because I broke The Compact on a non-jubilee day. I purchased a CD and magnet after the concert (yes, a Harry Connick magnet...don't judge). I was weak. Forgive me, Compacters, for I have sinned. There. I feel so much better now.

so you think I'M crazy, huh?

I give you No Impact Man. Thank me for not composting in my kitchen or trying to make my own vinegar or (drum roll please) making you use only a bowl of water after you use my toilet. Yeah, that's what I said. So let's all just stop with the eye-rolling when I'd rather find a used something instead of spending more money at Target or when I want to know if my coffee is Free Trade. And all writers are not megalomaniacs, Mr. No Impact Man, just you. Geez. I think I need an aspirin, and I don't care how many miles it travelled to find me...

the possibilities are...exhausting

Because I taught all day yesterday - and at the alternative HS, including PE with all boys, with dodge balls - I am taking the day off. (Like this is completely my choice...Schools are clamoring for me, but I'm saying "No thanks!" today!).

Some big plans I've considered: Seeing a movie (Oscar-nominated of course; anything else during this crucial month would be irrelevant); cruising Goodwill; cruising Wild Oats; starting to paint the kids' bathroom; finishing our wedding scrapbook (yes it's been almost 14 years, shut up); planning a few weeks' meals.

For your amusement, here is my pre-shower, post-donut thinking:

I want to get out of the house, so painting, scrapbooking (which I really hate as a verb but there it is), and planning meals is out. Although if I planned a couple of meals, I would actually have a more reasonable grocery list for a Wild Oats trip. Hmmm. I'll see what's on E! after my shower.

The movies I really want to see (Little Children and Volver) are on at inconvenient times; a movie I kind of want to see because I love Forest Whitaker and the cute Mr. Tumnus actor (Last King of Scotland) seems like a profound downer for the middle of the day. So that's out.

If I can come up with a couple of things I reallllly need from Goodwill (The Compact!), I might head there. It is supremely satisfying to spend a hour looking at all the random objects (it's like visiting the Island of Misfit Toys for grown-ups) and finding a gem or two for less than $10. And I realize now I can't buy the wooden hangers, so I'll avoid that disappointment this time.

Settled! Now to go get ready....Right now, on my way. Going.

knives in the play area

I don't make resolutions in January for a couple of reasons. 1) I consider my "new year" beginning in September because I am that geek who has always loved the fresh promise of back to school, and 2) they are dumb and make me feel guilty when I ultimately fail. As a practicing perfectionist, I don't like to fail and so refuse to start anything that might not end successfully. This doesn't mean I don't start things without finishing (see the chicken/muffin entry) - that's just perfectly doing something else, which is still success. I have the right to change my mind.

That said, I did have an epiphany of sorts on the flight to Singapore last month. (It could also have been severe lightheadedness due to lack of fresh air & sleep after 18 hours). I read about a group of friends in San Francisco who banded together and refused to buy any new products (besides food, hygiene, and safety items) for a year, calling their agreement The Compact (check out the link to their blog, if your eyes haven't completely glazed over by this point). Now, I am an intelligent person like you and my first thoughts went something like this:

Of course San Francisco, bunch of granola weirdos
How can you not buy anything for a whole year?? That's crazy...
Probably rich granola weirdos
They obviously don't have kids
Why is that guy wearing an orange tie?

Regardless, the idea nagged me during my week-long vacation in the land of The Great Singapore Shopping Challenge (seriously - the entire nation of retailers is required to have sales for a whole month each year). These people shop nonstop, day & night, all over this gorgeous tropical island. Even for me, it became ridiculous. So I channeled these granola weirdos and found myself thinking about every single product I saw, touched, picked up. Do I really need this? Can I find something like it at home? Will it be truly useful to whomever I'm giving it? I focused on spending my money on experiences - a spice garden walk, the art museum, lunch at a charming hidden cafe - and a few souvenirs created by actual artisans, not sweaty, malnourished Chinese children. Okay, I did buy a Hard Rock Cafe t-shirt and an Emily the Strange bag (actually two, they were only $3!). But anyway.

An essential piece of The Compact is getting rid of stuff you don't need and seeking what you do from secondhand resources. Compactors (we are a people) are encouraged to frequent cyber communities like Craigslist and Freecycle. I created a staging area for items that were going onto the giveaway list - a small table in our back room, next to the computer - for convenience and to clear clutter from the main living areas. In my purging state, I decided our knife block was unnecessary as we have a drawer full of nicer, more functional knives. Off it went to the staging area. Which is also, I had conveniently dismissed, where my children play occasionally. Last week as I chatted away with my best friend, she spied amidst an assortment of picture books, finger puppets, a tape player, pick-up sticks, and card games - the knife block. Ha ha, funny explanation, ha. Luckily, she understands my lunatic obsessions, knows me to be a good bad mom, and most importantly, doesn't have the time to sit on hold with CPS.

Two weeks into the new year and my non-resolution is going well. I've found replacement items for necessities at the antique and thrift stores, and I have resisted a powerful urge to troll the clearance aisles at Target. Sometimes I experience shopping withdrawals so I head to the grocery store where the cute dairy stock guy works and try to find things I need, because food is an approved purchase. And stalking is free.