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
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
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
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
Thursday, September 24, 2009
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
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
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
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
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
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
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
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
Monday, September 21, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
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
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
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
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!
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!
Monday, September 14, 2009
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
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
Friday, September 11, 2009
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
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
Thursday, September 10, 2009
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
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
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
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
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
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
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
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
Monday, September 7, 2009
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
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
Saturday, September 5, 2009
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
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
Friday, September 4, 2009
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
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
Thursday, September 3, 2009
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
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
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
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
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
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
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
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
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