Day 61 of 61

Day 61 of 61: Dear God & Sense of Accomplishment Quiz

Dear God,

It's Donna Marie Hogg from Forest Park, IL. (I always make sure he knows where I'm at) I did it. Thank you God. Thank you for blessing me with your favor of strength, motivation (Misericordia and a healthier future), and supportive friends, family, and co-workers. Thank you for holding my hand in the darker times. (remember make-up mess?) Thank you for staying with me every day of 61 days. May you give me the strength to continue my journey wiser and more thoughtful. May you give me the strength to listen to your presence when the devil is trying to scream. I know you are doing a work upon me, and I will therefore be patient with the results. I love you with my entire existence, because I breathe not without your love and friendship.

Amen.


Sense of Accomplishment Quiz:

1. Did you think you could finish 61 days?
Yes and no. Yes because I knew God would be there to see me through, and I trusted that. No, because I knew facing my demons for two months, during the epitome of fall fashion, would be a challenge. I knew I had to be realistic. I knew I had to take one day at a time, or I would never finish. Teddy from the first week, set the tone of this entire journey.

2. What helped you succeed to hit the 61 day mark?
God of course. But I really thank God for the Postman. The Postman was my rock. He loved me, believed in me, laughed with and at me, listened to me, lectured me, and never judged me. He would physically stop what ever he was doing, mute the television, and attentively listen to me read every blog twice. He never gave up on me. And, all those that read this blog....your comments always reminded me I wasn't alone. Thank you for making time to take this journey with me.

3. What were your biggest obstacles?
Getting off work and having time to kill. It was a mental, physical, and spiritual battle every day I left work. This journey was a building block, and I'm pretty positive this will continue to be a daily battle.

4. Was there any thing that surprised you on this journey?
Yeah, two things: First, that those that I thought would show support the most by reading this blog...didn't. While those that I didn't expect to....did & it pleasantly surprised me. Second, how easy it was to control my addiction on my days off. I eliminated all opportunities to fail. Going into this journey, I assumed my days off were going to be my downfall, and they weren't.

5. Was there any great lesson learned?
This entire journey was a lesson. But, I would have to say the lesson learned was: I don't need anything, I don't have a need for anything, and God-blessed I have sooooooooo much.

6. What does this mean for you now?
Happiness knowing that Misericordia is soon to be blessed with my sponsor money. I am excited to know my successful journey, my beloved sponsors, made it possible. And shopping wise, one day at a time. One day at a time. One day at a time.

7. Do you think you kicked the addiction?
No, but it helped me see the difference between life with and life without the effects of the addiction. My conscious is louder. Maybe I'll name her LaQuisha.

Last one. I will text my mailing address to those who opened their hearts and pocket books to support me and a wonderful cause.

Goodnight,
Encouraged Shopaholic

P.S. I cried like a little sissy proofreading this. It has been such an emotional battle. I read the words, and couldn't help but cry. Glasses and tears don't mix.

Day 60 of 61

Day 60 of 61: A new type of ugly

We all know I suffer something awful and devastating during my monthly gift, no surprise. The surprise is, yesterday and unfortunately today as well, I'm all kinda a new type of ugly. U-G-L-Y, this chick has no alibe. Face swollen, shirt dirty and smelly, hair hap-hazard on my head, ashy skin, kickin' breath, fingerprints on glasses, filthy black hairy pants, dirt under nails, purple period undies sticking out of the top of these pants, and my bloated belly roll hangin out because there's too much pain to worry about it!!! Like I said, a new type of ugly. Black mail pictures could be made by my sons. But then they would be at Oak Park Animal Shelter so fast, they wouldn't be able to shed on our "hair carpet" floor.

I literally layed on our comfortable, big, brown, leather couch aaaaaaaallllll day. I have couch sores. I never knew that was possible. I truly believe our hardwood has a little ditch path from the couch to the restroom. I made no detours.

Since I was a prisoner of my pain and the couch, I celebrated Halloween in a way. I watched snips and clips of all different types of Halloween movies and shows. Why not the whole movie or show? I'm a wimp, always have been, and always will be. I'm not ashamed. I'd start to watch House on a Haunted Hill, and be chill and cool. Then about 30 minutes later there would some type of terrrrrifying ghost with a chip on it's shoulder, and I'd have to change the channel to something more "bambi."

The game plan is to take Halloween down tonight, and put Christmas up before I go to sleep. The Post Man is the beeeeest hubby ever. He entertains me, and allows me to torture him so. I think deep down he enjoys my enthusiasm for the holidays, even if I am a tad bit early. So, the red and green come out of storage, and black and orange away. The Post Man's initial reaction when we worked out this plan yesterday, was: "We are taking down Halloween before the holiday is even here?" Yes. He totally got it. Smart man. I'm soooooooooo lucky.

AND, just in case you didn't know, TWO DAYS LEFT!!! If I had blogged tonight instead, it would be ONE day left. Update: Zara, a kick*$& store that is a mix between Forever 21 and H&M is having their grand opening today, and I my friends and family will be there this weekend. I will lick the fabrics, sniff the air so hard I'll snot, and moleste the clothing so much people will fear me, and allow me to go in the fittingroom before them. I CAN'T WAIT PEOPLE! I CAN'T WAIT! Rock n' roll leggings and jackets, girly sweaters, and hardcore boots....HERE I COME!!!! Stand back witches, stand back, I'M BACK!!

Good day,
Encouraged Shopaholic

Day 56 of 61

Day 56 of 61: Booooooring!

Before I go into how booooored I've been all day, I'd like to take a moment of reflection.

I can't believe it. There is a smile on my face and a peace in my heart. I'm almost finished with this journey. Some would say I'm about to begin the real one on Day 1. But..... I'm not thinking that far yet. I'm relishing the idea and concept that I, Donna Marie Hogg, set forth a challenge, and am soon to conquer that challenge. Fifty-six days ago I would of never thought I would survive two weeks, but I have almost survived two months. My faith has been strengthened, and my appreciation for all of your support has left me a believer. I'm even more ecstatic knowing that your sponser money will be aiding a fantastic charity. (peaceful sigh)

Okay, I need to get a life. I had a day off today, and when I say was boooooooored, it's an understatement. I tried napping. No good. It was boring. I tried Internet surfing. No good. It was boring. I tried watching the tube. No good. It was boring.

I thought about doing laundry, but it sounded complicated and boring. I thought about getting my nails done, but it sounded high maintenance and boring. I thought about getting my hair done, but it sounded risky and boring. I thought about putting up the Christmas tree and decorations, but it sounded life-threatening and semi-boring. I thought about scrap booking, but it sounded draining and boring. I thought about doing my cardio, but it sounded inhumane and boring. I thought about making calls, but it sounded tiring and boring. I thought about baking, but it sounded fattening and boring.

(exhausted sigh) Can I buy a life? Can I shop for "excitement"? Hmmm....I wonder if eBay sells life in a bottle. (doubtful laugh)

I enjoyed the rest though. Healthy, safe, blessed, but bored.

Goodnight,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 52 of 61

Day 52 of 61: Catch-up

I'm soooo exhausted tonight, but I know my audience awaits. Part of my audience texted to remind me that my random nothingness is needed in order to make the world spin on its axis.
(a tired wink, wink)

I know you may be waiting for "Life With The Postman Part II," but if you don't mind, I think I will save that for..... the day after today. I'm so loopy tired, I believe that's called "tomorrow." You got that though.

I more so have energy for random tidbits of catch-up. Below is the tasty morsels of catch-up: (you can lick your fingers after)

1. The Postman and I watched a "Hot Ass Contest" at Navy Pier's Tattoo Expo. There were like nine contestants, and one of them was hysterical! I wish I could put it on YouTube!!

Imagine a woman in her late forties straight out of a rock video from the eighties. This "hot ass" contestant was: 5' 7", thin, blonde hair with FULL BLOWN teased, winged hair!! Her outfit of choice was pegged light acid wash jeans that were high-waisted, a cut-off, sweater tee, that barely was long enough to touch the top of her jeans, and an old-school black eighties belt that was looped through the belt loops. Just her outfit was priceless. Her hair on top of that, sent me in spastic fits of laughter and fear.

WHY? Why, does she think she should parade on a cheap platform like an ex-stripper? Why does she think the audience wants to see visions of their mother doing the bump and grind that even R. Kelly wouldn't approve. WHY? Why didn't she consider that flashbacks of her running her hands seductively through her hair then slowly dropping it like it's hot, would scar many of us for life? WHY? Universe, answer me! The scary part, people love a show. And boy did she give it! Her caressing and crotch bends won her 2nd place. Classy. Classy audience. Classier venue. You won't and I don't recommend you see that every day. The best part, her "daddy" helped her off the stage with one hand like a princess and proudly paraded her off into ....reality. (I can only hope. I'm out to save one life at a time)

2. I'm not single. I'm happily in love. Even then. Even happily in love can't stop me from promoting the absolutely heart-stopping, eye-mesmerizing, mind-stimulating, experience of being a spectator at the Annual Mens Health Urbanathon. Have you been? Awwwwwwwwww. I smile like a geeky school girl. The men. The men are SMOKING! No worries, no worries ladies, the Postman knows this is my entertainment once a year, and willingly allows me to enjoy my eye candy. We giggle about it, make jokes about it, and then I try to get the word out to all the single ladies. Forget bars, lounges, internet sites.....this is tight abs, quarter bouncing butts (more like bounce a quarter and get change of two dimes and a nickel), monster hamstrings with shorts that show it all off, powerhouse calves, and gorgeous faces! GOD BLESS the Mens Health Urbanathon. I wish the whole thing could be taped in slooooow motion. But, the great news amongst my eyes swinging back and forth: Postman did a fabulous job running the twelve mile obstacle course after successfully finishing a full marathon five days previously. Go hubby! You my powerhouse!

3. Almost died. (very little drama injected) At a fancy four star restaurant I almost died on the edamame appetizer. The edamame skin decided to lodge itself in my throat and pitch a tent. Not sexy at a fancy joint. Coughing like a swine flu victim freaks the rich out. I then proceeded to rocket an edamame out of it's shell into the air about 4 feet, almost hitting the table behind us. Not good I say, not good. Last time I was brought into public, I flung a lobster chunk onto a woman's shoulder. I'm so lucky that the Postman continually risks being seen with me.

4. NINE MORE DAYS TIL I HAVE FINISHED THIS 61 DAY COMMITMENT!!! Do a little dance.... make a little love.... get some sleep tonight. Get some sleep tonight! Honest moment: I want to be able to say I'm "recovered," but I think I'll be more like a crazy kid in a candy store on November 1st. Pray for me. With the holidays, I know I'm going to need all the strength prayers I can get.

Goodnight,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 45 of 61

Day 45 of 61: Life with the "Post Man" Part 1. (He deserves at least two)

It has been four and a half glorious years with my boyfriend, aka the "Post Man." His last name is Post, therefore the original nickname. Some of his friends know him as "f*****g Post!" With out the Post Man, this journey of 61 days would be absolutely unbearable. Yet, for some reason I can't deny that life with the Post Man is a journey all of its own.

For example, yesterday morning, He didn't fail to shock or put me into hysterical fits of laughter. Picture this: Loving couple at 7 am in the morning, at a chic, local, family coffee shop. (emphasis on family) We are waiting for our meals, as we relax. Out of nowhere, the following is our conversation:

Post Man: "Babe, what do you think those pictures on the wall are? What do they look like to you?"
Me: "Those ones up there? Um, they are martini glasses." (this is the obvious answer)
Post Man: "Martini glasses? No, they aren't martini glasses, why would there be pictures of martini glasses in here?
Me: "Why what do you think they are?"
Post Man: Birthing canals
Me: "WHAT!?!?!? Birthing canals?"
Post Man: "They're not martini glasses. Gimme me a pen? Do you have one?"
Me: Birthing canals? This is a family place!"
Post Man: "Gimme a pen. Do you have one in your bag?"
Me: "Why? What do you need it for?" (as I reach into my bag, find one, and hand it over to him)

The Post Man then proceeds to grab his napkin and brushes it flat. He then decides to scribble down his vision of a birthing canal. He draws dark circles to resemble his "ovaries." Dark circle here, and at the other side, dark circle here.

Post Man: "See, these are the ovaries." Those pictures are of birthing canals not martini glasses."

I am so0000000 beyond hysterical. I'm crying so ridiculously hard that I'm crying. My eye make-up is smearing, and my stomach hurts from the insane fits of laughter. This is outrageous! A grown, conservative man waiting for his eggs and toast, sees birthing canals. Imagine how creative his imagination would go if a doc showed him ink blots. He'd be admitted.

Post Man: "See."
Me: "See? Your crazy? What man sees birthing canals in a family place?"

I continue to thank him for the perfect blog story. Thank you Post Man. Thank you for the anatomy class at 7 am.

Tune into tomorrow for Life with the Post Man Part II.

Sincerely,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 43 of 61

Day 43 of 61: Etc.

Random thoughts inside my head today:

1. Oh snap! (that's my fabulosity talk) My boyfriend complimented me on my no shopping skills tonight. Awwww. He notices my effort. It just tickles my insides. I want a trophy. I wonder if he'll get me a trophy that's gold, shiny, heavy, and engraved. Brilliant idea DM, don't forget to throw out a few subtle and not-so-subtle hints. Anyways, smile now mister, because come November 1st, I'm about to go buck wild on the funny farm. Cluck, cluck, moo, moo, baby.

2. Hmmm.... what have I done recently to deserve not having a seat the entire way home on the train? He blesses me everyday and trillion second, BUT I do notice that every time someone gets up to get off, someone else is closer to sitting down. Hmph. I wonder if that "mature" woman with the purple bag would mind if I did a stealth ninja "invisible" move on her, and slid into that seat before her. Or, I wonder if that chick that is in early twenties would fall for a "oooh, Sorry, it's hard to keep my balance, I was just released from the ER last night. Is there anyway I could sit down?" And, I wish everyone would stop staring at my size 28 font size, permanent black marker "Email HQ" message that's scribbled on both of my hands. Please train people, like you can remember everything. You can stare, but don't kid yourself.

3. Why does the love my life have to copy my mad ice cream choosing skills? There is like 16 different signature flavors at Coldstone Creamery, and you just so happen to choose the exact flavor as me. So unoriginal bubba. Cute. But unoriginal.

Okay, enough of random nothingness. (smile) Did you really think I could come up with something meaningful. Remember I promised I'd blog everyday this week? Well, this is what you get. Crap in a bottle.

Goodnight,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 42 of 61

Day 42 of 61: I got this!

Who's the bomb diggity?! I'm the bomb digg-it-tee!! I only have nineteen days left! I get goose bumps just thinking about it. Nineteen more days til shopping ....bliss!!! Lust List 1 and 2, oh yeah....your almost mine!

1,641,600 seconds left til shopping free-dom! I know, I know. Your thinking free-dumb! Relax people. I know what your thinking: I didn't do this to go sixty days, I did it to recover from an addiction. (eyes are rolling) I understand your concern. But, honestly, I need a good spree. Anyways, you have nineteen days to convince me to cool my jets. Good luck.

Exciting news: Da*n time! Godiva has finally gotten with the rest of the sane world, and has realized that the world is against any form of "chocolate", unless it is the only real chocolate, DARK CHOCOLATE. Godiva is officially featuring a limited-edition dark chocolate Halloween and truffle collection. I should be ecstatic, but for some reason I'm annoyed. Why the hell did it take so candy corn long! There is even a dark chocolate ganache skull. Can it possibly get any cooler?

For those of you who wished my boyfriend happy wishes for his marathon yesterday, THANK YOU! It was super exciting to support his amazing accomplishment. He's my hero, but without the tight jumpsuit. Even though he would look sex-ay in a jumpsuit. (wink, wink) It was so cold. Love, that is true love, is defined by how many hours you will stand in freezing cold weather to catch a glimpse of you running by. He swore me to secrecy to not blog about the emotions involved about this subject. So... I won't. But, I wish I could. So, instead I'll just take a moment to say he's the bun to my burger, the pasta to my sauce, the creamer to my coffee.

To enjoy life, is to watch two bananas, a few ballarinas, Elvis, Superman, Dark Vader, Wonderwoman, and your hubby run in short shorts in 20 degree weather for 26.2 miles. You should try it, do it, it's what the cool people are doing.

I promise to blog every day this week. (even though promises are made to be broken)

Goodnight,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 38 of 61

Day 38 of 61: Update Schmupdate

1. Hmmm...you are all suspicious. (beady eyes) Yes, I'm less consistent about writing. BUT, my last post was shouting out to the wind, if you were still with me. And....nothing. Silence of the cows. Forget lambs, silence of the big hairy moo cows grazing on grass in a pasture. I see. Hmph. Not a single comment. I'll remember this....when one of you wants to hang out, talk, or get a great annual review. (evil laugh)

2. A "smelly" person I know led a horse to water, and let her drink!!! She encouraged this horse to drink. She let me buy the raddest (oh yeah, I'm whipping out the vintage words, circa 80's) black and silver zipper pull pin. This pin is bad a** for $15. So, warning to others, pick the "smelly" people in your life very, very carefully. They could possible end up as bad as influence as mine. Maybe when the roles are reversed, I'll lead her off a cliff, forget water. But wait, I heard "smelly" people float. (evil laugh)

3. The wise man up top, puts you in certain places at specific times. He does this so you learn. I had one of these incredible lessons a few days ago. I was in absolute dire need for a restroom, so I was desperate and went into the ghetto one at McDonalds. There are only two stalls. I start to do my business, when....I hear God's lesson. "Girl, now you better take your time. You take your time when you wipe, you hear me? One tissue for the front. One tissue for the back. Slow, and don't rush girl. Don't mix them. One for each! From the front, then the back. You hear me girl? Do it right!! Take your time, and you'll get it right. You hear me girl?" I was freakin' hysterical. I did everything that lady, I mean God's angel, told me to do. And.... I was pleasantly happy to know that I have and always do. So....I decided He means this lesson to be used in other facets of my crazy life. For example, slow and meticulous with my business, slow and thoughtful with friendships and relationships, and slow and patient with dreams and goals. High five God, I heard your lesson through the stall, with my pants down. Inconvenient timing, but with him, there's no such thing.

Okay, cows, gotta go.

P.S. Craig and I are the aunt and uncle of beautiful baby Stella, as of Oct. 6th.

Good day,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 33 of 61

Day 33 of 61: You with me?

I no it's been a long journey so far my friends and family. My buddy ol' pals, are you still with me? (air punch) Are you still the wind beneath my wings? (double air punch)

I just want to make sure you haven't left me. I need you. Especially since holiday season is coming. (pouty lip)

Just checking you know. Without you, I'm a zebra without stripes, a leopard without spots, an ballerina without toe shoes, a plumber with out a toilet plunger....

You get the idea. Thank you for sticking with me. I'll never forget it. (hand over heart)

Goodnight,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 32 of 61

Day 32 of 61: "No!"

Hello again. Yipee! Yay! Whoo hoo! One month down, and one to go. Oh yeah! Tell your mama...... and your papa! Somehow I've managed to keep clothes upon my back.

This is my conversation with my boyfriend tonight: (I'm on the Internet, and he's sitting on the couch)

Me: "Babe, did you know I have a discount card to Bakers for 20% off?"
Him: silence
Me: "Hubby, did you know I found shoes under $100?"
Him: silence
Me: "Babe, I found fives shoes for under $100 each, and $5 shipping."
Him: silence
Me: "Huuuubbbbyy! you said earlier in the week that you would buy me boots."
Him: "NO!"
Me: "Babe, you said! And I would use my discount card. You said!"
Him: "NO!"
Me: "It's such a great deal. PLEASE! You said you would!"
Him: "NO!"
Me: "Okay, hubby, how about two pairs for a little over $100?"
Him: "NO!"
Me: "You said, and it's such a great deal?"
Him "NO!"
Me: "You don't loooove me!"
Him: "NO!"
Me: "Then I'm ordering them and you are going to have to pay me!"
Him: "NO!"

I think I'm going to stick his "NO!" where the sun don't shine. Punk husband. Punk husband with a vocabulary deficiency. Note to self: invest in classes for husband. I feel bad now, poor man....he's embarrassed, I mean, unable to express his true feelings, due to his vocabulary handicap. Awwwww. It's so sad. So..... now that I understand, and I totally feel compassionate towards his slow motor skills. I think, and I'm pretty sure you would agree, he really means "YES!"

Goodnight,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 29 of 61

Day 29 of 61: Lust List II

When I wake up, when I walk to the train, while I'm on the train, when I walk to work, once I get to work, all day at work, on the way home, and even now....all I can think about is my Lust List II.

It consumes my existence. Lust: A passionate or overmastering desire or craving. This is what I have. I caught this incurable disease in college. All that Purell failed me. I have taken shots for my body to reject it, but Lust fights against my red and white blood cells. It weakens my immune system and leaves me dizzy (maybe this is why I'm dizzy?! I wish.)

Lust List II: (blame the weather)

1. A fur hooded, full-length winter coat, with elastic cuffs (wind rejection)
2. Two winter hats: one with flap ears and the other a knit one (I lost about 15 on the train last winter)
3.Two pairs of gloves: One that is ugly but made for below zero protection (my phalanges get sooooo cold), and the other dressier ones with fuzzy insides ( I lost about 15 pairs on the train, along with all my hats.)
4. "Idiot glove attachers" (soooo I don't lose any this winter)
4. Snow boots that make me look like abominable snow bunny (I really want 10 pairs of boots)
5. Three scarves: one extra thick blanket kind, and the other two hipster cool for work

Crap, now I'm going to lust about my Lust List II while I try to sleep, while I'm sleeping, and when I wake up. It's no good my friends, no good. I think I'm going to ask those flu shot clinics, if they have a shot for Lust. I wonder how much it will cost me?? What do you think the side effects are? Hump my own leg?

Anyways, remember when I went to the doctor about my dizziness a few weeks back? Bah humbug, it's back. I had to cancel Tess the Trainer tonight because of how awful I feel. It's so alarming, and confusing. Doctor says a-okay, my body says not even close. I know what your thinking....I just wanted to get out of my workout. NO WAY, to be honest, I enjoy my workouts lately. I'm bummed I don't get to work out with her this week. Today is a no-go because of the crazy dizziness, and the other day this week is a no-go because my monthly enemy kicks my a**!

Goodnight,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 27 of 61

Day 27 of 61: Melted like butter

Soooo, I'm the not the most consistent about blogging sometimes. I do apologize, but some days it's just one of many excuse options. The reason, the "excuse", I didn't blog for the last two days was because technology and I don't tango well. It's like dancing with a white boy sometimes. (oh yeah...I do dance with one) Anyways, the computer decided to go on a hiatus. And....of course it was I who touched it last.

So, I enjoy sharing the ins and outs of my days, but I will never forget what this blog is about. I have an addiction, and I need an outlet and support.

Yesterday, was my meltdown. I melted like butter in the mall. I was a hot mess in an air conditioned building. Too be honest, it came so sudden, so random. It totally took me by surprise. I love surprises, but preferably when they include me eating dark chocolate.

I walked by this massive Estee Lauder promotional poster, and it was like someone took the pin out of a grenade!! The ad was featuring: "Buy $29.50 of Estee Lauder products, and receive this $80 worth of products as a gift!" If someone was watching me, they would have witnessed me staring at that poster for at least five minutes. The longer I stared, the worse I got.

I called my boyfriend to try to manipulate him to allow me to shop for boots. I offered to buy me one pair of boots, and he could pay me later, so it would be like a gift. He said a very leery "yes." The problem was he had no clue I was melting down. I couldn't tell him. I couldn't let anyone know that I was about to fail.

My head was hurting from a whirlwind of thoughts. I was trying to fight the demons, but I was failing. I knew if I prayed, He would help me. But, I wasn't sure if I wanted to prevail. I wanted to shop. I needed to buy something. I had money. I had $29.50!

I peeled myself from the poster, and with my "yes" from my boyfriend in tow, I headed upstairs to find boots. I cried overwhelming, aching, tears up two flights of escalators. People around me didn't know what to make of me. I knew what I was. I was a mess. I was losing. I was struggling.

I called a friend to help me. She sweetly told me that people have been and are always praying for me, and that I needed to go home. I wanted someone to stop me. I wanted to be rescued. But, only I can rescue myself. Only God can bless me with the strength and favor to do so.

By the time I made it to Nine West, my eyes were red. To make matters worse, I not only saw boots I wanted, but I found a super chic handbag. The handbag was like me jumping off a cliff. I couldn't bear it. I walked out and cried more. I cried down the escalator, bag less and defeated.

Once I made it out of the mall, I soothed my aching head and heart with Hershey's candy ($8) and Argo Tea's Pumpkin Chai tea. With a battered soul, sweets, and hot medicine, I headed home. Finally.

Goodnight,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 24 of 61

Day 24 of 61: Survivor

Eating squirming worms on a deserted tropical island, for an attempt of a meal. Climbing bug infested trees to cut open a coconut for water just to hydrate yourself. Trudging through thick mud up to your chest, in over a hundred degree weather.

Television's idea of surviving and my idea of surviving, is a tad bit different. Minor differences, but definitely noteworthy.

I my friends and family have survived. I have stared fear in it's eyes. I have shaken anxiety's hand. I have rocked out with dread.

I stand before you a gold ribbon survivor. The gold ribbon magnet on our back car bumper reads:

"One hour Cardio Survivor"

www. Isurvived3600secondsofcardio.com
20% of all purchases of "I survived cardio" merchandise will be donated

Good Night,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 23 of 61

Day 23 of 61: Clogged

Remember what it's like to just be sitting there and your nose runs a river down to the top of your lips? Or when you can't get to tissue quick enough, that you end up eventually licking snot? Or when everytime you sneeze your convinced your stomach relocated? Yeah?

Ugh! Well, I've spend the whole day just like that, with my head feeling like it's totally under water. So, as you can imagine, I'm not up for anything witty or serious. So, I will chat tomorrow.

Good night,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 22 of 61

Day 22 of 61: Stop Laughing

Tonight has been he hairy yous. That's hilarious for the slow people out there. It's a good feeling to know I'm going to bed with my sense of humor and a stupid smile on my face.

Where to begin? How about I just list the goofy things that happened. The truth is, all one can really do is shake her head. Partly in laughter, partly in pity.

1. The "master" (my boyfriend for those who didn't read yesterday) called me at work at 5:35 to harass me to get out of work on time, so I wouldn't be late for my training. Awwww! Oh, how sweet! Yeah....... don't be fooled. He was gitty. Gitty that I was getting to be tortured tonight. So save the sap. Here's the thing though.........WHY is he gitty about my personal training hell? I have two theories. #1 He is excited that I am getting the chance to work out. #2 He is excited that my fat Asian a** is actually going to the gym. My gut tells me it's the later. Bastard. (joking) (wink. wink) Let's keep it real, the man jumped up to see me when I got home to ask me if I was ready? "Uh. Noooooo. I still have like an hour and a half til it's time." All I can say is........wait til October 11th. He's running the marathon, and I'll be eating a hot, delicious, sweet Asian bun as I watch him pass mile 20 in Chinatown, and he'll still have 6.2 miles left. Ahhhh. Revenge.

2. I humped Tess the Trainer tonight. Enough said really. Okay....maybe it does leave too much for the imagination. So, this is what happened: She was kind enough to listen to me, and not work out my legs and butt. So, we focused on arms, back, and abs. Great! Civil. Well, that's until we got to a certain part. We are using this one machine that converts into God knows how many different exercises, which happens to be next to a mirror. It is humanly impossible to workout next to a mirror and NOT look at yourself at least once. Well, she is changing the torture device into a new exercise, which involves her bending over at a 90 degree angle. I decided to steal a quick glance at my hat backwards, homey-g look I was rocking. As I'm pushing stray hairs under the edges of my hat, I hear her say "okay, let's go!" So, naturally I start to walk towards her. (it's like a two foot walk) The thing is, I didn't stop looking at myself in the mirror, and I rammed her into her a**. In my defense, she should of told me she was joking when she said "okay, let's go." If it wasn't for her changing her mind on the amount of weight for the machine.....none of this would of happened. Picture it: trainer bent over in 90 degree angle (Asian), and the trainee (Asian) walks straight into her a** with a hard bump. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the other seventy-something people working out all around us. I truly believe, if they wanted to mix their workout with watching pornos, they would of stayed at home.

3. Have you heard of that song "You Found Me," by some guy? I wish I could remember the name of the person who sings it. Anyways, the song has to do about him asking God where He was when he needed him. I LOVE THIS SONG! My faith dances all inside me like a fairy princess when I hear this song. The point is, when I went to the grocery store tonight I was singing it. Not like American Idol loud, but audible. I had my cart filled with great "nutrition plan" goodies, and I was just singing and jamming in my head. There were two women standing about 2 feet behind me, and they witnessed it. What did they witness you ask? My monkey butt, singing, bopping my head, swaying my hips, all while I'm pushing my cart......into a huge wall of boxes! It wasn't like a tap, it was a KA BOOM! They gasped. I died. Who gets down like Ray Charles, singing like a Americas Got Talent reject, in the grocery store? Me. The funnier part, the words I was singing when I collided into the wall, were: "lost and insecure, you found me, you found me." Yeah.....I think that was one of the moments God decided to leave me in the lost and found. (sigh)

Good Night,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 21 of 61

Day 21 of 61: Miss me?

Did you miss me? (cheesy smile) I thought so. (extra cheesy smile)

Let's see, time to give the extensive update. To be honest, I can't remember each day by day for the last three days I skipped. Soooo.... I'm going to give a summary. I mean, if you don't mind that is. Huh, you do? Well.......tough titties. (fake smile)

First, I had my first real withdrawal and reaction to not shopping. I roll my eyes in disgust and laughter just recalling the pathetic scene. Let me set the tone: I invited (emphasis on "I") my co-worker/friend to meet for lunch an hour before work. We were sitting at the restaurant in a "VIP" area so we could talk in private and "enjoy" each others company.

My co-worker is the sweetest and most selfless person you could ever meet. She is angelic, but beyond perverted. She looks like a beauty queen, but snorts. She's strong, but sensitive. I bring this up, to help set the mood of my withdrawal. Remember.....she's sensitive.

Okay, as she munched on some type of lemony fattening saucy chicken meal, I picked at my rotisserie chicken with corn. (this was my grand attempt to follow my "nutrition plan") Sidebar: why do the gorgeous, skinny people eat the worst food in front of you? Anyways, I was listening to her go on and on about her family. (alright don't judge me from Day 16, I was listening) Except, when the twenty minute mark hit.....

I freaked out. Totally flipped. I interrupted her and told her something along the lines of "can we go? I'm ready." She laughed because she was probably mortified. She told me "no, we are going to sit here and talk." Basically, she totally knew what I doing. I was absolutely dying to cut the chit chat short to go window shopping.

I attempted to be courteous and well-mannered for about another ten minutes. Listening....listening....it's getting hard to listen. Then, I just couldn't take it. I had to get up. She finally surrendered to my rude behavior.

That's my withdrawal. Yup. I had spent the weeks prior, avoiding all possible scenarios and environments that would even mildly tempt me to shop. I made extremely conscious decisions to not walk by stores.

Here's the deal, normally when I spend time with a friend, we do some form of shopping. Friend time always equals shopping. So, I didn't realize that was my first time with a friend since this started. Poor sensitive, perverted, snorty girl was crushed. I was disgusted. Needless to say, I think she thinks I'm nuts. :) (accurate assessment)

Second, I see the "angelic devil lady" tomorrow. (Tess the trainer) My torture, I mean my workout, with her last Thursday had me a hot charlie horse mess for days. She is not going to be happy with me. I am sooooooooooooooo not motivated to do any form of cardio for an HOUR! An hour freaks me out like "AHHHHHHHH!" I have to somehow get on it, I have to do cardio twice this week. ECK! Hmmmm.... pray for me? (what? not worthy of a shout out to God? Let's see you do it)

Third, yippee got approval from my "master" aka boyfriend. He. He. He would freak if he knew I wrote that. Shhhh...don't tell. Approval for what? A book at Borders! Yes! No more boring rides home. My choice? Love it......Kathy Griffin's memoir! She was a crack baby who liked to eat cake. Nice. That's class. I was raised in Alaska so I like to expose myself to all diverse types of upbringings. (hysterical smile)

Lastly, I feel like sharing a warm and fuzzy worm...bear hug! Thanks for continuing to support my longa** journey. Forty days left.

Good Night,
Discouraged Shopaholic

P.S. Do you have the faintest idea what it feels like to skip a Zyrtec dosage! MISERY!! From my scalp, to palms, to my ankles.....all in hives. Ugh! I even made a "take zyrtec for dummies" check off board on our refrigerator, and still missed it. This is brilliance in a box.

Day 17 of 61

Day 17 of 61: TMI (too much information)

I am beat! So, tonight I shall just sum my day up with two sentences below:

Today was my first actual workout with my personal trainer, and it is fifteen hours later. I am soooooooooooooo sore that I can't squat down low enough to piss in the pot, without peeing all over myself. :(

Goodnight,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 16 of 61

Day 16 of 61: Taking Action Part I

Let's get a little deeper today. Lets try a different tone.

Yesterdays blog was simple and really short. I was too tired to be witty or serious. But....tonight I need to talk. I need to share, cleanse my soul, and spill my heart into the eyes of friends and family. I want to stir my emotional curiosities. (Okay....I'm not dramatic.)

In yesterdays blog I mentioned a little something about taking gift giving more seriously. So, tonight I will elaborate.

First lets define what type of gift giving I'm speaking of.
Definition: Buy someone I care for an extremely random material gift at an extremely random time.

For as long as I can remember I have loved and enjoyed gift buying to my deepest core. I love everything about it. I love the entire process. I choose, I buy, I give, and then they adore me. What's there not to enjoy?

Choosing the gift usually means hours and hours in tons and tons of stores. Buying means I'm allowed an excuse to shop. Giving means I care, cant' you tell. Adoring me, is an emotion I purchased. It's like a store transaction, I choose, I buy, they give me a thank you, and then they adore me for helping to make their sales goal.

Why am I blabbing about this? Two reasons.
1. Gift buying is about HALF of what I feed my addiction on.
2. I had an epiphany: I don't want to buy material gifts for friends and family. I want to give the gift of action, take TIME to go out of my way to be there for someone. To not give a "cop out" gift that includes shopping. It takes me entirely ZERO effort to buy someone a gift. I desire to give the gift of action: to listen, drive, and be inconvenienced for the sake of love and friendship.

Still with me? See the other day I was on the phone with my "sissy" She had just gotten back from a weekend with her boyfriend's family in Texas. I was excited to know she had safe travels, and was interested in knowing how her trip went. She said something I didn't agree with, and BAM! I tuned out. Just like that, I started to only listen to every fifth word she said. "No, ....fingernail.....work.....drives me crazy...." To be honest, I don't even think she knew I had stopped listening.

It was obviously very, very rude, and extremely selfish and obnoxious. But, it happened so naturally that as soon as I got off the phone with her, I felt like a train hit me. KABOOM!!!! My epiphany danced in my head.

I started to think about how my "sissy" deserves my attention, and not because good social skills and good manners say so. A tornado of thoughts bombarded my head. I started to feel a little sick, inspired, and nauseous all at once.The type of sick when you know you are sooo wrong, and that you've totally screwed up.

Here is this woman, yes she's my sister, but she's a woman. This woman has given the gift of action to me more than I can even begin to count. She has literally drove an hour and half one way, numerous times to be with me. She has sacrificed her time, and dedicated herself to helping me, more often than I shop. Think about that. More than I shop. It's heart quaking to think about. She has helped me move, start my business, raise my sons, .......the list goes on and on. And, I repay her with effortless material gifts and careless listening.

So, this alone, moves me. It stirs my insides, and make me want to be a better child in His eyes. It makes me soooo grateful for His lesson, and... I... just... want... to... .get... an... "A."

So, I've decided to jump start this new way of giving, I will do something special. I want send a care package to ten people (one being my sissy) that I love and adore. Don't you have to buy things to go into a care package Donna Marie? Normally, yes. But, since I still have a crap load of days left, nope.

No, the point is not to buy material nonsense and package it up with a bow, and say "see I care." I am motivated to fill my care packages up with time, thoughtfulness, and effort. Maybe I go on the Internet and print out recipes they might enjoy. Perhaps I go through all my piles of books and pass them on for a great read. I might weed through my closet, and share items that she might enjoy. I am a skilled jewelry designer (fancy), so I could always make a special gift from the thousands of beads I have. Make a card. Make a scrapbook. I have enough scrap booking odds and ends to stock my own aisle at Micheals. See....the gift of action.

I am so grateful for His gift. I will not ignore Him. I will take this time of self awareness to grow.

Good Night,
Discouraged Shopaholic

P.S. My boyfriend says I should go back to being funny and witty. Oh men.

Day 15 of 61

Day 15 of 61: Two weeks down!

Oh yeah baby! Two weeks down! This is sooooo exciting!

I'm kinda exhausted today. But, I would still like to share with you some things that I've learned these last two enlightening weeks, with all my "extra" time:

1. After years of telling people I know how to bake, I'm convinced that since I never actually do the action of baking, that I don't know how. (my two year subscription to Martha Stewart...all to waste!)
2. I have over 100 necklaces (that's without the ones that are hidden in my closet)
3. None of my socks match (d**n dogs!)
4. I own enough makeup to stock an Ulta (hmmm...I wonder what my face would like, if I did wear that stuff? One day maybe)
5. The human body can live without a peanut butter cookie and a Ghiradelli espresso chip ice cream on a daily basis (shame, now my physical self is against me)
6. My little son sheds 453 hairs a day (he he, and no I haven't actually counted)
7. Borders is the devil (they email me everyday to use my savings coupons, don't they know? Sheesh! So inconsiderate.)
8. I should be chosen to be the Wahlgreens spokesperson. (my catchy "buy one of me, and get my friend for free...could be the intro music to the commercial)
9. I need to make more effort in the "gifts" I give others (I will talk about this tomorrow)
10. Always trust Him. (shout out to the man upstairs!)

Short and succulent.

Goodnight,
Discouraged Shopaholic

P.S. I need to put that Neutrogena Body Scrub I bought from the first week to use, my back is breaking out! Eck!

Day 14 of 61

Day 14 of 61: I'm Baaaack!

My apologies for leaving you starving folks. I know, I know you are hungry for more of my crazy commentary. :)

Don't yell. Pipe down! I know I left you hanging for 2 days. But, I have a sensible reason. Don't get your Victoria Secret undies in a ruffle.

First, the good news is, I didn't shop the last two days! Impressed? Me too.

Well.... maybe I did shop a teeny tiny bit. I went into Wahlgreens (yup, again) and was picking up my asthma prescription. Right when I walked in, these bright neon orange sticky signs were jumping out at me! They kept screaming at me to read them. I thought about covering my ears. But, how nutty would I look, walking by the nail section with my ears covered, humming "yadda, yadda, I can't hear you" ?? A bit, I'm convinced.

But, since I didn't cover my ears, I stopped to listen to the singing of the promotion "buy one of me, and get my friend for free. Lah, de, la... de, dah. Lah, de, la... de dah!" What a beautiful chorus. Music to my ears. Quite catchy I must say.

I tried to keep walking. I hated that I stopped. Until..... I saw these funky sticky nail stickers. Nail stickers? Yup. How old am I? 30. Don't judge. God thinks this is not a good trait. He. He. I won't judge you for judging me. Truth be told, I questioned my own womanhood. But, to plead my case, Elle magazine showed something similar in their "what's hot" section. Give me some slack here, you deprive me of skinny pants, studded boots, and BURBERRY for goodness sake. So, black and white flower & skull nail stickers are my $4 alternative. Hmph!

Sing it with me...."buy one of me, and get my friend for free. Lah, de, la... de dah. Lah, de, la... de dah!"

Second, or should I say more importantly, I received some tough news the last couple days. Day 12, you know I couldn't blog because someone I love is going through some challenging times. Day 13, I got some shocking news about someone I know very well. This woman emailed me about how her and her husband were supposed to celebrate their 30th anniversary. She continued on to say, how in the last two months, her husband had a stroke, went into a nursing home, had a seizure, and then past away on the operating table! She then casually continued on by asking how I'm doing. Hmmmm....talking about shopping addictions vs serious loss. Yeah, I don't think it's human to even think of myself after news like that. Addiction is selfish, as I admitted on day 2, but, blogging after news like this, seems arrogant, and faithless. And, one thing I am not, is faithless.

I should stop here, but since I didn't blog the last couple days, I'll share some more. Okay, okay, don't get too excited. :)

Alright, today my happy a** had to get up at 5:50am to get ready for my personal training consultation. Hmmmm. How do I describe my dread. Let's see. How bout....the thought of exercising and eating right is the equivalent of ripping off my toe nails and eating them. Get the picture?

Before I walk out the door, I take inventory. Gym membership card that thank God doesn't have a minimum usage, check. Gym shoes that look like they've never seen a gym before, check. Sports bra that I will soon look fabulosity in by itself, check. Baggy t-shirt so no one can see my extra delights underneath, check. Water bottle on bike that I won't even drink, check. Apple in hand to "look" like I eat healthy already, check. Pink baseball hat that says "I'm feminine and still stylish, can't you tell," check. Bike which is not a car, check. Positive attitude, huh?? Oh. Smile, smile, smile, you can do it. Check.

Stats on my personal trainer:
1. younger than me (I am secure, I am secure)
2. Filipino like me (Asian invasion time and oh yeah, she dances like the stereotype depicts)
3. smiles like an angel (which is why I chose her)
4. believes the program is 85% nutrition and 15% exercise (she's the devil)
5. gave me shady eyes when I told her I don't ever drink water (she wanted to lecture me)
6. twinkles her eyes, and then tells me we work out together 2 x a week, BUT I have to work out 2 x on my own as well ( freaking nimcumpoop, 4 x a week?!! I don't even shower 4 x a week!)
7. wants my cardio 2 x a wk to be 45 min. to an hour (I asked her if my 10 minutes on the rowing machine qualifies, and she responded with the sweetest, "no.")
8. giggled when she read that I wrote under "list surgeries," "girl stuff :)"
9. declined my invitation to put the body fat pincher on my butt (next time she said)
10. is less than I thought she would of cost me (but I would pay with my blood for her :)
11. tortures me with the thought of the nutrition plan (what about it? the word "nutrition plan.")
12. doesn't believe you hug strangers, you shake hands (I threw out the hug vibes, she wasn't biting...sadface....doesn't the rest of the world hug random strangers???)

Okay, that's enough folks.

Good day,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 12 of 61

Day 12 of 61: Too disturbed

Friends and family, thank you for all of your support. Thank you for taking moments out of your day to read my nonsense. It absolutely means the world to me. (especially when I get a comment!) I'm blessed with the favor of having such caring, and wonderful people in my life. Shout out to God!

Today, I got some disturbing news about someone I love so much. So, in honor and respect for this person, I am not going to blab about myself and my mischief. I'm going to pass. To blog today, seems so trivial compared to the news I got.

Tomorrow, I will not let you down. :)

Goodnight,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 11 of 61

Day 11 of 61: Watch out!

A couple weeks ago, a friend introduced me to those scratch card machines at the grocery store. Hmmm...grocery shopping then gambling. Nice. God is so not going to be happy. Not with me. And definitely not with her.

So, now every time I pass a grocery store or a gas station all I can think about is the lottery or those scratchy things.

Come on grey stuff reveal my future. Reveal fortune. Reveal closet fulls of Dior, Fendi, Chloe, and Burberry. Shucks. Okay, okay, next box. Come on grey stuff reveal my future. Reveal my contribution to world peace and world domination. Shucks. No worries, time to scan my lottery ticket from last night. Beep. Beep. "Sorry, not a winner!" Thanks for the words of motivation man! My parents always told me different. You d**n black box, you lie! So, this is how this works? I pay a $1 and in return .....abuse. Hmph!

Note to self: gambling is not nurturing.

Anyways, I'm savvy enough to know, gambling is not a fair trade for shopping. But what can keep me off the streets begging for fashion and coupons?

Yes, I know. Say it isn't so, but I have gained some unwanted pounds. I'm curvalicious. Now I want to be sexilicious! Think you've seen sexy before huh? Yeah, well in six weeks you better watch out! This Asian is about to get scandalous looking! He he.

Here's the deal. I have fifty days left. I need to occupy my time. I need to stop eating triple chocolate cake with homemade extra whipped cream. I need to fit my jeans. I need a healthier obsession.

Light bulb! I'm going to have a personal trainer for the next six weeks! Yeah! I can't believe it. This is brilliant. This is strategizing at its finest. Trade an obsession for shopping for an obsession to getting healthy. My mama would be proud.

When I'm at our gym, I always people watch. Hmmm...maybe that's why I don't sweat. I'm too busy watching others sweat. Yeah, yeah, yeah like you don't do it? Exactly. Well, I've always noticed this one particular trainer named Tess. She looks so angelic. There's something about her that makes me automatically feel at ease. She's like the Lazy Boy in the room, comfortable, approachable, and strong. Bad analogy, but you get the idea.

Imagine: Caramel skin, voluminous hair, luscious lips, almond eyes, electric smile, and after six weeks, dynamite stems, svelte tummy, and a tight tush! My sons are going to be like, go mama!!! Watch out! Here I come midriff tops and micro minis. At 30. Oh yeah. 30 and delicious here I come. Booking a one way flight.

Stupid excited. And if your wondering, this no shopping thing is getting a tad bit easier. A microscopic tad. :)

Goodnight,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 10 of 61

Day 10 of 61: Oh so Lucy

Good news, bad news, or funny news first?

Let's go with he he ha ha first. Imagine this spastic scene...

I'm sitting on an examining recliner in a 8x6 doctor's room. My mind is wondering in the silence of waiting for my replacement doctor. Thinking. Thinking. Thinking. I glimpse in the mirror reflecting my mint-colored gown with a hint of geometric pattern, which doesn't match my shoes at all. The gown has two ratty strings that I've managed to tie so tight I choke myself. Ahhh! Too tight. I'm requesting a v-neck next time. Better yet, I'm going to use that comment card in the lobby.

I continue thinking and reading every word displayed in every inch of the room. Okay, I have my bearings. To the left, there is the gown basket, to the right, scale...AHHH! Focus. What does that sign say? I can't see it. I lean forward to read a sign above the computer, and phhhhhhhhhh! I farted. Oh man. Oh shitake mushrooms. What am I going to do if the doctress walks in right now.

I can't hide. I can't run. I could run, but my gown is exposing my caramel skin. Crap. The room is putrid. I'm allergic to fragrance, and somehow the rancid smell makes my chest tighten. Great. I'm stuck in a cubicle, with "guilty" stamped on my forehead, and the smell is messing up my lungs.

I strain to listen for footsteps in the hallway. Nothing. Okay, think fast. Look to the left. Look to the right. AH HA! I spot a giant bottle of green aloe hand sanitizer on the counter. I jump up, and decide the smell of hand sanitizer is my answer. This has to work. Please God, please do not let her walk in! I promise God to never buy 4 of anything at one time, ever again!

I rapidly squirt sanitizer all over my hands. Okay I smell like alcohol, but the room doesn't! Okay, you have to do it DM! I start to flap my arms up and down like I'm flying. I flap my arms around frantically, as I'm circling around the room like a lunatic. As if the fart wasn't bad enough, if she walked in...I can't even bear to think of it. Imagine: " Hello Donna, nice to meet you. Is there a reason you are flapping and circling around the room, and... what is that special smell?"

The horror doesn't end. I decide it still smells, so I rush to squirt globs more on my hands. I decide on a different tactic, waving my hands in figure 8's in the air, like I'm painting (still running in circles of course.) Ugh! PLEASE SAVE ME! Da*n I wish Craig was here, so I could blame it on him.

I sit, and stare at myself in the mirror, and give myself the most shameful look possible. I'm humiliated.

And......in walks the doctress, AND a student. So if it wasn't embarrassing enough at the thought of one stranger smelling my funk, I am blessed with the comedy of two strangers.

If your done laughing, I'll continue with the good news.

The good news?
The doctress says I'm healthy, and has no answer for my symptoms. Also, when I drove up to the hospital, all I could think of was killing time at the cool gift shops downstairs. Crazy. Who thinks of that? No one. Me, but I don't count. By the time I parked, I imagined myself touching the scarves, books, and jewelry. The good news, I resisted taking the elevator down.

The bad news?
Crap, Craig is totally going to give me that smirk. His smirk and pat on the back, that really means: I love you my cute, Asian, hypochondriac girlfriend. Ugh! I can't bear to face him.

Good night,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 9 of 61

Day 9 of 61: The Lust List

First I'd like to say, WHY AM I STILL IN SINGLE DIGIT DAYS??? Hmph! Double hmph! I know, "hang in there chicken lump, just one more day." But honestly, for the love of peanut butter...this is sooooo freakin' long! Why not 31 days? Is it too late to adjust the number? (oh the wicked thoughts)

To say I'm getting impatient would be a mild understatement, my friend. I sometimes find myself staring at shop windows with glassy eyes, in a complete hypnotized daze. I wish I could say that I feel less tempted, but I'd be a hairy liar. Hairy, in that I have a luscious head of hair. Frizzy, but luscious, if that's possible.

All that time spent suctioned to shop windows, I've come up with a list. Yummy.....list time! If only I could, check, check, check a box! Just the thought makes my sleepy behind perk up! This list is my lust list, my naughty list of "pretty, pretty, pretty please husband, can you treat me?" list.

Drum role please.

1. Charcoal skinny pants
2. Over-the-knee boots (sexy asian, watch out!)
3. Grey boots with a 2" heel
4. Purple boots
5. Studded black boots
6. Burberry trench coat (this will be on this list for a while)
7. Michele watch band (the animal skin ones)
8. Turtlenecks (I want them, but I'd complain about how they squish my asthma)
9. Anything Maxmara

Have I inherited an inheritance I don't know about, or is this list really far-fetched? See! When I can't shop "reasonably," I end up hallucinating.

Anyways, continuing on.....

10. Four belts (two doesn't sound like enough)
11. Escada pink ruffle dress
12. Bare Essentials mascara
13. Anne Fontaine white shirt

Okay. Stop! This list is insane. It's like an alcoholic listing her favorite drinks. I'm done. Ah hah! I caught myself. Like that? Uh huh. I'm getting stronger. (high five) (in the air) (down low) Oh yeah!

Blogs are defined by blah, blah, blah. So, I think I'm done blabbing for the day.

Before I go, please pray for my health. I think I have bad sugar levels, either high or low. I've been really light-headed for four days straight! I'm nervous to go to the doc tomorrow, especially because my main doc isn't available until the 21st. He's sooo popular. Eck! So, if you believe in it, I'd be grateful for your thoughts.

Hmmm...shopaholic and hypochondriac. You wish you sick person you. NO, I'm not a hypochondriac! How do I know? Like I tell my boyfriend, "if I was a hypochondriac I wouldn't always get it right!"

Goodnight,
Discouraged Shopaholic

P.S. Shout out to the smelly people

Day 8 of 61

Day 8 of 61: Blissful Denial

We've all walked into Target needing only one thing, but we walk out with a hundred dollars worth of "one thing." The thing is, this is my addiction in a nut shell. I apply this "one thing" mentality to every store, especially my guilty pleasure, Wahlgreens. Okay, I know what your thinking...Wahlgreens? Yup.

Just seeing the sign raises the hairs on my arms and creates a little patch of saliva on the corners of my mouth. Salivate. Salivate.

To make the matter funnier, I have always lived within one mile of a Wahlgreens. Atlanta, Miami, and now Chicago, find my home, and you'll find Wahlgreens within close Mapquest vicinity. By choice? Not really, I don't think, but I think my conscious would beg to differ.

Here's the thing, day 8, I entered a Wahlgreens! I know, I know, what could I possibly need there, when I just bought over three hundred dollars worth of stuff at the grocery store on day 5? Why I was there isn't the issue. I think. The questionable action is why did I stay so long? Why did I slowly stroll through aisles I had no business strolling down. I knew I was in mud the second I stepped in.

The delicious part is that I found a moisturizing cocoa butter body scrub by Neutrogena (new!), Blistex Lip Massage (new! micro scrubbing lip balm), LypSyl Lyp Moisturizer (with pure Swedish beeswax), two packages of gummi worms (fat-free), more hair mousse (when I have 3 bottles at home), and Listerine strips. If the world were to end, I would have enough hair products for all the Little Women.

To a normal shopper, no big deal. To this chick, ugh! I mini failed. I walked into one of my biggest weaknesses, and proceeded to enjoy buying needless crap. Not stuff, crap.

But, I'm not upset or discouraged. How could I possibly begin to complain....my boyfriend's lips are silky smooth, my lips are buttery soft, my stomach is happy, my hair is less frizzy, and my breath is fresh. Why complain???

Good night,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 6 of 61

Day 6 of 61: Too tired to think about it

I'm exhausted today. Believe it or not, too tired to think about shopping. Maybe, that's not totally true, but close enough. I sooo want to buy a new book to keep my thoughts of shopping, occupied. But, I'm still too weak to walk through a Borders, and buy only one book.

I'm even considering going to bed on this Saturday evening at 9 pm, just so I don't torture & tempt myself on the Internet. My pesky heart is acting up tonight, so I think I will hit the pillow. One can only hope to dream of the act of shopping. Come on conscience, throw me a bone. One sheep jumps over the fence, two shoes jump into my bag, three sheep jump over the fence, four bracelets jump into the bag.... zzzzzzz.



Good night,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 5 of 61

Day 5 of 61: Fashion Torture

In September I always travel to the exotic aisles of ......Borders. This special, annual trip to Borders marks the coming of fall fashion. Each shelf, displaying glossy cover after glossy cover of supermodels and mega celebrities dressed in designer must-haves. I itch to touch the colossal issues, to run my fingers through hundreds of ads, articles, and pictures. I embrace the style advice, and the take note of all the items I "must have!"

Normally, I spend countless hours obsessing over the new colors and silhouettes of each collection and designer. Sometimes I memorize the words on the pages, and circle looks I'm determined to duplicate. Normally, I buy 5 to 6 different colossal issues, and this fall, I've bought 5. On my coffee table, laid out like in a up-scale spa is: Vogue, InStyle, Bazaar, Elle, and Lucky.

Why am I bringing this up? For the obvious of course. I still have 56 days left, and all of fall's must-haves will be sold-out or worn waaaaaay before I can even sniff one. I finished my latest book the other day, and I'm unable to buy a new one. So, that left me with reading one of my magazines, and now I'm sad inside.

Some people love fishing, some people obsess over cars, while others can't go without golf. I love fashion. Fashion has been in my veins my entire adult life (my career), and my addiction has always satisfied my cravings. My love for fashion is no different than ones love for photography or knitting, other than mine is the source of my addiction. So....somehow I am going to have to make it through the two months synonymous with fashion.

To help children of God with developmental disabilities OR wear above-the-knee suede boots, leggings, and a studded motorcycle leather jacket?

I choose Teddy. I can do this. I will do this.

But, I will accept fashion donations? LOL.

Good night,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 4 of 61

Day 4 of 61: Full from food

Some say rules are made to be broken, while others, like myself, just stretch them a tiny bit. Here's the deal, saying "no shopping allowed," is so vague. It's like saying "no eating sweets," because does that mean, one can't eat any variation of sugar, including raw sugar in your coffee?! Imagine how ludicrous that would be, to commit to that much of an extreme. The point is: I never really determined any specific rules on what would be considered as "wrongful shopping" or not.

This morning I decided grocery shopping doesn't count. :) Why should it? I'm buying food. Yes, it's a lot of food for two people. Yes, I bought 12 different types of spices that each cost about $5. Yes, I bought fresh baby octopus & 7 other forms of fresh seafood for my adventurous boyfriend to try. Yes, I bought 12 boxes of rice, instead of 2 or even three. But, don't worry, there's nothing to worry about. It's food, nutritious fuel that nourishes my family's bodies. I'm excited, so don't be concerned. If I was concerned, then you could worry.

My therapist would say today, I switched one vice for the next. He would tell me that it is all a form of shopping. Yes, what I was doing would be defined as the verb "shop." I'm not disagreeing that in the past, I traded clothes shopping for furniture shopping, or book shopping for dog accessory shopping. I just think shopping for food, no matter what type of food or quantity of, should count as breaking the rules.

How much? Let's see, breakfasts, snacks, lunches, dinners, midnight snacks, and desserts totaled over $310. And, that is WITHOUT the cutting board that I stared at for 10 minutes, debating if that would be against "shopping!"

The greatest success was I left without a magazine. Absolutely unheard of!


Those that really know me, know that I truly believe grocery shopping is heavenly! It is my slice of heaven. To put a rule on grocery shopping would be like taking the cloud from underneath the angel. It would be a crime, unnatural. I'm glad we all agree.

Good night,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 3 of 61

Day 3 of 61: Diagnosis: Emotionally Disfunctional

I laugh when I think of what an emotional monster I was today! I was like ALL the fictional monsters combined together and determined to leave destruction in my path. He he. Thank God i can laugh about it now, even though there are others that aren't laughing at all....

I keep mentally telling myself that I should blame it on my monthly "enemy," considering everyone knows how tortured I am during it. But, I decided that would be irresponsibly inaccurate. Were the constant river of tears, that I could not for the life of me keep up with, partly the "enemy," sure. I just don't think pawning it off on the hormones would be what a "mature" thirty year old woman would do. (wink, wink)

Basically, not having the emotional outlet of shopping makes me equal to what a "bridezilla" would be. This of course makes me a peach to be around. My lucky friends, co-workers, and family have 58 days left of my sweet molasses demeanor. For curious minds, 58 days is 83,520 seconds. My mind was extremely curious.

The first two-thirds of my day was spent in a VIP pity party. Oh me. Poor me. "I'm gonna fail." Whah. Whah. Whah.

THEN....God was the best friend ever! He noticed I had given my heart to the real enemy for close to 20 hours, but He still didn't turn his back on me. Instead, He reminded me how much He overflows my life with his love, his favor, and his blessings. How?

There I was, woe-is me, and in walked this lady with a seriously sad case of Turrets, and she was convulsing non-stop. I cried inside. I cried inside for her. I cried inside knowing that I had been an irrational, ungrateful, ignorant, disloyal, wench, when this woman was suffering, yet smiling. Her name was Teddy. She was angelic. She has an obstacle she faces daily, and yet, she's smiling. Her sweet demeanor almost made her convulsions look like rhythmic dance moves. I know that's strange to say, but her internal "win" inside showed.

I believe Teddy was God's sign. Being my best friend, he reminded me how much He loves me, and how much He blesses me. Naturally, I felt like a pineapple ass. A total nut case. I'm healthy, I'm safe, and these two blessings are the blessings of freedom to live. So, he kindly shaped me up, slapped some serious guilt in my veins, and I perked up.

I, Donna Marie Hogg, will not get depressed over this. I am favor-filled. I am strong, like Miss Olympia, UFC, beat your ass, STRONG!

Normally, on the days Craig works late, I go shopping after work. He was amazing! Right before I left work he called to tell me he believed in me. He said he believed in me that I could travel four blocks, from work to the train, successfully without stopping at any shops. I DID IT! Who's your mama?!

Okay, 83,520 seconds left to be strong. The only thing is a good friend of mine, just told me that this 8 week jump start is the beginning to a life without addiction. Hmmm...a life time, sheesh!

Good night,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 2 of 61

To say I'm frustrated and disappointed, would be an understatement.

I'm frustrated with people that say they will come through for you, but don't. I hate empty promises. Addiction is selfish. I'm not a moron, I know it is. But, I know that to many people around me, I give, I share, and give some more. I'm heart broken that I ask for certain people to come around to show support, and in turn they are a no show. I feel like I've gotten all dressed up with the perfect hair and I've been left standing waiting on my doorstep....waiting.....waiting.....still waiting.

I have God. He is everything. But, support is what I yearn for. I don't want to beg for it. I don't want to cry for it, but I do want to blog for it.

I laugh thinking about earlier in the day. I decided that taking random bike rides would be a helpful outlet for when I get the urge to shop or calm the emotions that stir the urge. This solution, led me to my local mom-and-pop hardware store for a bike lock. The great debate started as soon as I hit the right aisle: go with the combination lock OR the padlock? The combination lock prevailed the winner!

My point is, that I shopped! Just like that, I failed. I bought a lock.

I promised myself I wouldn't get too worked up about it, but the elephant is in the room. He's dancin' with a tassel hat on, atop our coffee table. I truly believe that this "incident" doesn't count. Remember? I bought the lock as a vice to the solution: ride my bike to calm my emotions. Hmmm...I'm glad we can agree that this doesn't count.

If your reading this, thank you. It means more than you'll ever know. If your not, then I won't forget your not.

Good night,
Discouraged Shopaholic

Day 1 of 61 to the road of kickin the shopping addiction for charity!

Day 1 of 61:

Okay. Here's the deal. I am a shopaholic. NO...not like "I love shoes and coats, so I think I'll buy some here and there." More like, I have been to therapy for a year for a SERIOUS shopping addiction I can't kick for the life of me. Argh! SO, I have decided to attempt to motivate myself with goodwill, by aiming to go two months, an ungodly amount of time, without shopping at all!!



I have rounded up my friends, co-workers, and family to sponsor me for 61 days (eight weeks) on my journey to ....kick the addiction for charity. My charity of choice, Misericordia, a non-profit organization that supports 550 children and adults with developmental disabilities. My future mother-in-law invites me to the annual Christmas fundraiser each year where the children dance and sing, and it never fails to touch every heart in the room. If, I mean when, I reach the goal, the money I am sponsored with, I am going to donate 100% proceeds to this incredible charity.

When it comes to the addiction, it has been four years of denial. For four years I've manipulated circumstances and emotions to mask my feelings, and stuff my voids with delicious handbags, shiny jewelry, funky shoes, and designer jeans for my boyfriend. It wasn't until a year and half ago that a couple of close friends decided to a have an intervention. I cried, and then cried some more. Next, I went to therapy.

Therapy is enlightening, but oh so ugly. When I say ugly, I mean, ugly in the way that you see yourself without the mask, without the pretenses, and without excuses. I have 60 more days to talk more about this of course.



Good night,

Discouraged Shopaholic