Thursday, December 29, 2011

Products with a purpose

I wanted to share some valuable discoveries I've made recently. Whether it makes you laugh, cry, break stuff or purchase stuff that could enhance your life, I get warm and fuzzy inside just knowing I made a difference. That sentiment was 50 percent sincere, 40 percent sarcasm and 10 percent humor, btw.

To begin my show-and-tell of glamorous products, I bring you ...

Forever Lazy

I saw this at Dollar General, but during my episodes of insomnia the past week, I happened to catch the actual infomercial on TV and found it for you on YouTube, so peep this and please notice how happy these folks are in their new fleece body suits.  "You'll be the talk of the next tail gate party." The zippered back hatch is my favorite feature. I can't emphasize that enough.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XDkg-nvwWc0

These I found at Walgreens while I was killing time during my lunch hour. You wouldn't believe the unbeatable deals you can score at the local drug store.

Do you know how many times I've said to myself, "I really need some Mayo for my hair." NONE. But I found this quite compelling. Mayo, fertilizer and pudding for your hair. As crazy and nasty as it sounds, I bet you it actually works but I'm not going to try it. If you do (or have), let me know because I love to critique products and discover which outside-the-box type stuff actually makes life better. So yea, I'm making fun of it, but at the same time, I'm giving it the benefit of the doubt.


This doozie, I found at Kroger. I didn't even have to read the fine print to know this had to be Cajun. I think I recall some old saying that something tastes so good it makes you wanna slap your mama, which I still don't get because that is never a good thing to do, is it?

I wonder what would happen if I put Slap Ya Mama and Hair Mayonnaise and Hair Fertilizer and hair pudding in my scalp all at once! Maybe the mixture would be a whole new product with a whole new purpose and become my claim to fame!

Now here's an aisle I can't wait to meander through! I was walking around looking for Aleve, which was oddly difficult to find and I looked up and saw this. I felt self-conscious just using this aisle as a short cut for fear people would flee away from me thinking I was bug infested and warty.

And on another note, what do warts and lice have in common to be on the same aisle? That's kind of weird, CVS. Do we have THAT many people who need this aisle that it warranted a sign of its own? Ewww.
Umm, Dollar General, are these supposed to be used together? Just wondering because they're side-by-side and all ... I mean, I'm getting confused about what's food and what's for my hair and scalp. When they're stocked alongside each other by the experts, who am I to differentiate.


Thanks for chillin' with me! See you again soon.

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

FUQs of life part 3

And here I continue my Frequently Unasked Questions (FUQs) post with some more of my crazy ideas to ponder. If you care to see the earlier FUQs, here are the links to those posts:

FUQs of life part 1 - http://novellarella.blogspot.com/2011/11/fuqs-of-life.html
FUQs of life part 2 - http://novellarella.blogspot.com/2011/11/fuqs-of-life-part-2.html

And on we go!

FUQ #11 - Why can't anyone on the Statefarm commercials sing the damn jingle ON pitch? Here's the link to one of my most hated Statefarm commercials to prove my point. I wanna throw stuff at the TV every time I hear them butcher "like a good neighbor, Statefarm is there," not that the jingle is all that to begin with but still. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ohC5kyyum4g

FUQ #12 - Are #hashtags really #that effective, and why can't I #understand their #concept and #usage!? I mean, I totally do #NOT get it. And I'm #too lazy to go look up a tweet that's advertised by a hashtag anyway. Furthermore, hashtags, #pound signs and #number signs are the same #damn thing. #The end.

FUQ #13 - Why is there such a high level of hatred toward Justin Bieber, yet he's on top of the world? I mean, obviously the haters are not winning because all these negative vibes haven't even put a tiny dent in his success. The dude has a new cologne out, NBA music spots, Christmas songs were played everywhere, but nobody I know (who's above the age of 12) likes him. I don't necessarily like him either, but he can sing and he was discovered by the super hot, super talented Usher. And while he's floating in a sea of money, I'm floating in a never-ending black hole of debt, so I ain't hatin'. OK, I'm hatin' a little, but not on his music. I have a problem with his hairstyle and his cocky attitude, but that's it.

FUQ #14 - What determines who gets chosen to become a Chia pet? I've seen Scooby Doo, Shrek, Obama, among others. I want to be a fly on the wall of the executive board of directors for Chia pets who sit and deliberate what personality becomes the next plant-headed creeper. I can't decide if this is an honor or an insult. I guess it's in the eyes of the beholder.

And that's all I got for now! Thanks for reading.

Monday, December 26, 2011

I can't remember to remember

Yesterday morning, I spent 45 minutes looking for my Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. I nearly formed a neighborhood search party! I was having a frantic I-need-it-NOW moment, which happens all the time to us chocolate addicts. I knew I bought one for this very (desperate) reason ... but where did it go! After much anxiety and a futile hunt, I saw the empty wrapper in the trash can in my room.

After a few seconds of very deep thought processing, I remembered I already ate it. Dangit! Last night. For some dumb reason, I subjected myself to two hours of J.Lo in "Enough," the stupidest movie I've ever seen. Don't even get me started on all the things I hated about it; that's a blog post by itself. So, obviously, I had to do something to make up for the robbery of my precious time. So I inhaled the chocolate cups of happiness, which erased the pain she caused me with her bad acting and stupid-looking hair.

My memory is so awkward-functioning. I mean, I can't remember devouring Reese's Cups the day before. I always misplace my keys, forget my passwords, grocery list items, bills and always forget to take my daily meds, yet I vividly recollect my 3rd grade teacher Mrs. Cardinal and her paddle like it all happened 2 minutes ago.

She was a large-framed, older white lady with a man-style haircut. The outer edge of her grey hair was always matted down to her skin because she was always sweating and fanning herself with random papers or flat objects like paper plates or that lime green Frisbee she always had on her desk, off limits to students.

I can still remember her raspy Southern twang and mood swings and the way she would give misbehaving students this cold, beady-eyed stare down, sometimes for several minutes without a sound until they noticed her death gaze and stopped moving, in horror. The paddle was still allowed in those days, the good old '80s. You got whacked on the ass in front of the whole class if you reached paddle status. My friend Rick got his name on the board and three checks next to it one fateful day. Three checks meant - the ass whooper! I still remember the humiliation on his flushed face and how he cried. That moment pretty much ended the crush I had on him since he was demoted from cool status right before my eyes. I couldn't dare have a crush on the kid who got paddled, eww.

Mrs. Cardinal always wore sleeveless shirts, and I was terrified of her upper arm flab and the way it would jiggle back and forth when she fanned herself or wrote on the chalkboard. I used to hyperventilate every time she looked in my direction. One time a classmate dared me to touch her arm flab during recess as she sat in her chair overseeing playground activities. I didn't want to be a wuss, so I nervously walked up to her while she wasn't looking in my direction and poked her a couple times right in the arm jiggle to get her attention. She faced me abruptly and asked "what is it, Fareena?" (I went by my first name in grade school because I was too shy to admit I went by my middle name, Neesha.) And I asked if I could go inside and use the restroom. It was originally a fake request in the name of the dare but after looking her in the face, I really had the urge to pee!

I also remember the time in 5th grade, my friend Chris pointed at my chest and said out loud, "You have big ol' boobs! That's weird. You're only 11 years old! Gross!" I bet he wasn't saying gross for too much longer in regards to tits.

I'm 35 years old. I remember 3rd and 5th grade but can't remember what I did yesterday. I do have a method for this madness. My husband has a razor sharp memory, so a lot of times I tell him and he reminds me what I need to do. Or I write myself notes. Sometimes I even set BlackBerry reminders. Remembering is hard work, especially when mixed in with two jobs, autism vs. Neesha battles with the spawn, upkeeping a house, cooking, writing, texting, facebooking, watching seasons of "Entourage" and "30 Rock" and "The Office," plus random Youtube videos about bellydancing and henna. I'm a pretty busy MILF, ya know.

Now ... hmm ... what was I supposed to do today after blogging?

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

The Superstar Profile series kickoff

Hello! I've got something new to share with you all today!

This post will be the kickoff of a new blog series I've created called the "Superstar Profile" series. It's my tribute to many of the amazing people I get to meet during this adventurous journey called life. We always rave and follow the lives of celebs in Hollywood (or where ever they roam), and I feel like there are superstars among us who have done some pretty amazing things that deserve as much hype.

With my Superstar Profile series, I will interview various people whose accomplishments have wowed me, inspired me and introduce them to my world! Actors, authors, artists, teachers, business success stories, all kinds of great stuff, so stay tuned!

Tonight you will meet Erica De La Garza! She agreed to be the first in the series, so read on to see our interview ...

Hi Erica! It was so nice to meet you! Thanks for taking the time to sit and girl talk with me.

Nice to meet you, Neesha, and of course, it's my pleasure.

So how does it feel to be the very first of my Superstar profile series?
Amazing! I feel completely honored ... Thanks for having me.

So tell us what part of the world do you live in and visit most often?
Well, currently I'm in a small town called Kenedy, Texas, where I grew up but also in Los Angeles and have been there for the past eight years. I'm pretty much bi-coastal from Texas to California. I mostly visit NYC and Las Vegas as they are very lively cities with lots to do and see.

What's your full name?

Erica Jo De La Garza

Do you have a stage name that you go by as a performer? If so, how did you come up with it?
Erica De La Garza, just cut my middle name because it's very "country" sounding.

Erica De La Garza
OK, gotcha ;-) What do you do for a living, and what do you enjoy most about it?
Actress, model, writer, wanna-be artist, photographer and legal assistant ... I enjoy it all because it's exciting, fulfilling and something different every day.

Nice! A variety of tasks is a great way to keep life interesting. I agree with you there! So ... maybe I ask this because I write space-related stories Monday to Friday, 8 to 5, but I can't help but wonder ... have you ever been to another planet?
In my head, yes.

What’s the most noteworthy accomplishment you can brag about?
I dated John Stamos and was on the “ER” series finale.

Hot Uncle Jesse! He's definitely been on the wish list of ladies across the globe. And kudos for making it on the set of such a successful TV show! If you could be a celebrity for one day, who would it be, and why?


Angelina Jolie because she's so beautiful, does a lot of charity work and has a huge range of being a great mom and action hero at the same time.
What’s the silliest thing you ever did as a kiddo?

I would act out TV scenes by myself and really felt I was on the show “Beverly Hills 90210.”
Describe yourself in three words.
Kind, compassionate and giving.

What factors in your life have motivated you thus far?


My family and determination to help others.
What would people be shocked to know about you?

I'm actually intelligent, read the dictionary daily, and I'm an animal activist.
Do you have any hidden talents unrelated to your profession or goals?

Singing
Name three pet peeves.

Selfishness, deceivers and mean people that hurt animals.
Where do you want to be career-wise five years from now, and how do you plan to get there?

To be successful or working consistently with hard work and dedication.
What’s one good piece of advice you can offer others who have dreams they hesitate to chase in fear of failure?

Don't go on with life unhappily, always wondering “what if.”
If I invaded your fridge right now, what would I find?

Healthy food mostly, tortillas and a box of wine.
What are your favorite methods of stress relief?

The beach, watching movies (my two-hour escape from the real world), wine and spa time.
Have you ever been interviewed before? If so, do tell.

Yes by Lowrider Magazine for an article.
If you won $1,000,000 right now, what’s the first thing you would do?

Give some to my church to rebuild and also give to animal rescue groups.
Is there truly such a thing as failure or must one bandage their wounds and try again? Your POV?

I believe it's all a learning process in life to better oneself. If you fall get back up stronger, better and more confident than you were before.
When people read this interview and/or meet you for the first time, what do you want them to remember you by?

That I'm a sweet loving person with a big heart.
And that you are! Thank you so much, Erica, for sharing your story with us! Best wishes to you and may the new year bring you endless joy and success.
And thank YOU for reading. See you next time!

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Autism vs. Neesha: fml

I've had lots of "fml" moments of late. If you don't know wtf that means, get your Google on. Chill out, it's JUST an expression. For the extreme optimists who might want to give me a long lecture about staying positive and counting my blessings, no need. I know my life is amazing. After all, I live with the extreme awesomeness that is my existence every single day.


Frustration, stress-relief art I draw
sometimes when I need to let out
the negative energy. Not sure where
it comes from, but bam! There it is.
And yes, I know I don't have cancer and my kids are healthy and I have a nice vehicle and lots of food and a great job and 48 pairs of shoes and I'm happily hitched and I don't have two heads and I've not been abducted by aliens and I'm alive and plenty people are worse off than me and rah rah rah.

You know, sometimes I just need to be in my miserable state of solitude and wallow in self pity just long enough to find my magic potion that slaps me out of it. It's part of being human, and I always find a potion! At times it's food, or sleep, chocolate ice cream, yelling at inanimate objects, extensive cursing in my mind, fruits, music, TV, writing, staring blankly out the window wondering why I can't become a bird and fly away, drawing hilarious cartoons and just random stuff on paper... it varies. 

For those who don't know yet, I have a 13-year-old son with autism. I like to write about my experiences because: #1 It's therapeutic. #2 My experiences may help or inspire someone else in a similar situation. #3 I'd rather make fun of stuff than let it kill me. #4 My life is a reality show circus of blog material, so why the hell not. I'm a writer, after all.

So my spawn screams quite a bit, but one must delve into the mindset of an autistic individual before getting angry at them for busting your eardrums because they don't mean to, plus they tend to see the world in black & white, as in "logic." Here are some recent examples of this B&W mentality.

Money = field trip, duhhh

So one Monday, his class went on a field trip. He got to go to Target to do holiday shopping, then Wendy's for lunch. Days following this event, he would cry crocodile tears while I packed his lunch every morning and order me to "PUT IT BAAAACK! PUT THE LUNCH BAG OVER THERE! NOOOO! PUT MONEY IN BACKPACK!!" And of course, I was thinking, dude, WTF is wrong with you, you gotta have a lunch or you'll starve! But then, I got it! The dork thought I was screwing up his chances of having a field trip (every day!) by packing his lunch. So he figured if mom puts money instead of a lunch, he'll get a field trip. Mean ol' mom! Ha! I explained the real deal, followed by hugs and kisses. The teacher also explained not every day is a field trip. And all was well in the world again.

The magic fountain

Last weekend I walked into my downstairs bathroom to discover the back lid of the toilet tank resting across the sink. A hand-painted wooden box I made (6 years ago) with purple flowers stuck all around it was destroyed, and all the purple flowers were floating in the toilet bowl. Four empty toilet paper rolls were on the side of the sink. A cup was floating in the tank water, and the toilet wouldn't flush. The culprit? Yes, Nabeel, who is notorious for toilet sabotage and water infatuation. He screamed his brains out when I simply asked him why he did it. The bright side - he's too OCD to mess with dirty stuff, so the toilet water was clean. He loathes filth, which is a great thing. Two days later, he told my mom he "found a fountain in the bathroom behind the toilet and water goes up and down when you flush."

When all else fails, scream your brains out

This is typical logic for Nabeel and most autistic people, from what I've seen, when they don't know how to express what they're feeling. I know I would probably do the same thing if I was unable to write or blab my thoughts. He's gotten better than past incidents, but sometimes, seemingly for no apparent reason, he sits and screams. It's not easy to ignore and gets deep into the crevaces of my brain and rattles it until I nearly lose control of my sanity. This is when prayer, loud music, text messaging, facebook, crying and stress eating (sometimes all at the same time) come in quite handy.

So, FYI, if you notice I don't blog or surface for some days and seem M.I.A., it's usually because I'm wiped out from an autism vs. Neesha battle. I'm a warrior, but even warriors have to crash now and then.

Let me end by saying, all these incidents run their course ... he screams, I ask "why me" 100 times, I shed a few tears, I ask "why me" 100 more times, I send out a few stress-induced texts to my sweet husband and angel network of loving friends who always comfort me and at the end of the episode, I love him no less, but even more because that's what mommies are programmed to do. I endure. I survive. And goodness always prevails.

As my fortune cookie once said, "no amount of darkness can put out the light of a single candle."

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Not all things that make cents make sense


I saw this at Walgreens today. I actually noticed it because another lady was giggling at it and taking a phone pic. So monkey see, monkey do. It's what ended my day with the outside world before getting home and morphing into the hermit mom blogger writer creature that is my true self. I've been losing my mojo a lot lately. It has a lot to do with being sick for five weeks, but things like this pretty much rescue me from writer's block because how can anyone look at such a thing and not have something to say?

I wanted to buy it so bad but I've been fiercely fighting my frequent urges to buy shit I do NOT need. I love this kind of stuff, though! I'm a fan of abnormal things. Why wouldn't you want to buy something that says boobies on it. And it has nothing to do with actual tits. A brilliant sales gimmick! And then I saw the land of my birth written on one of the bands (Trinidad) and realized it was some kind of Caribbean-themed bracelet thingy.

Then a friend (Thanks, Jeff!!) tactfully pointed out that this was indeed a breast cancer awareness campaign! If I had realized that at the time, I would have bought it. This is the campaign - http://www.keep-a-breast.org/programs/i-love-boobies/ in case you want to know more.

My bad! It's getting difficult to distinguish noble from raunchy causes when your brain is tainted with things like The Tiddy Bear, for example.



It has nothing to do with tiddies in a literal sense. Here, peep the infomercial vid: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gw1g2yKxb0I

Hmm ... So I was inspired to come up with my own raunchy product, call it something like "nipples," and put it on the market! If Tiddy Bear can do it, so can I! OK ... here goes.

Product prototype:

You would totally buy this, right!?
Even before I had the boobies encounter, on my way to work this morning, I had another odd sighting. I was innocently driving with both hands on the wheel and seat dancing to some Gap Band - yup, kickin' it ol' skool at 8 in the mornin'! Ironically to their song "Early in the Morning." If you don't know it, whet your ears with this link - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7KKD2TCzN04

Here was my early morning delight.


Come on, who doesn't love a man with big udders. I must say, I admire anyone who can do this because the amount of snickering one has to tolerate to do such a job, I'm not worthy! To honor his bravery, I Blackberry-cammed him, gave him a thumbs up, smiled and waved. But here again, I couldn't make the connection between udders and a $99 Move-in special the same way boobies didn't connect to bracelets in my brain at first.

Oh well, not all things that make cents make sense. They're just meant to be enjoyed. Kind of like disco music, toe socks and raising the roof.


Until we meet again ...

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Be nice or be gone

I was a bullied kid. So I always feel sorrow when I see news reports about modern day bullying in school. All I can say to these kiddos is GET TOUGH and find solace in something, because bullying never really ends. There are plenty of jerks in adult life too. As a kid, my solace was always in writing stories and reading tons of books in my lavender-colored room (with light pink paint around the doors and window).

I dreaded school every day from about second grade until I finished senior year as a waddling teen pregnancy statistic. Bullies took money from me. I had sentimental jewelry stolen. On the bus, this one chick used to frog punch me on the arm until I guessed the magic word. No ... I never got the magic word correct. I remember wearing my coats in 70-90 degree weather (claiming to my mom the classroom was cold) just to have some padding against the punches. I got spit on. My looks got made fun of as well as my clothes. I got wads of gum tossed into my waist-length hair that resulted in me having shoulder length hair the next day. I was utterly distraught. Peanut butter didn't work , nor anything else, to get the gum out. I got racial remarks and because my last name is Hosein, I was heckled with all kinds of Saddam references. Some jocks played keep-away with my backpack and called me terrorist. Morons didn't care that I was of tropical origins; all they saw was a name and a skin tone.

But enough about childhood bullying. I'm here to discuss another type of bullying that I go through every day. It's not even human bullying. It's another realm of ostracism altogether.

Every time I walk into my closet, I'm ostracized.

I say EFF YOU, stupid purple skinny dress! Who needs you anyway. I only keep you because you're purple! (That's a lie; I cling to the hope of being skinny like a buzzard to roadkill.) There are other clothes in my closet way nicer than YOU! ..................... Wrong.

Forget you too, mean skinny black pants! I'll just go buy some new clothes that fit and leave you to rot in the back of my closet forever!!!!  I have a great job and career. So maybe I'll go shopping after I pay this stack of bills.


I try so hard to focus on my work every chance I get. But as I sit on my bed, staring at the laptop screen, another screen taunts me ...


I have a novella to finish! Must. Stay. Focused. No distractions allowed. Suddenly ... visions of chocolate cupcakes dance in my head as the snack attack bully closes in on me.

Even responsibility becomes a bully and won't leave me in peace.


Then I think of all the things on my wish list that would thrill me out of dismay like a nicer smart phone, better cookware, the Kindle Fire (even though I'll never give up real books), new clothes and shoes, a treadmill to help lower my weight and cholesterol, a Wii for me and a Playstation 3 for the kids ... and so much more.

Then comes the biggest bully of all.

Like I said, kids. Get used to bullying. It's a part of life. I just learned to cope. I play Scrabble and Words With Friends on Facebook, converse with the love of my life, eat apples and oranges and Twinkies, shower my spawn with love and cynicism, read books, write books, procrastinate ... and life is always as good as I make it.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

Birds don't sky rage

Road rage is a pet peeve of mine. And I'm not saying it's NEVER warranted. I'm talking about people who get irate over every simple little thing, like road rage is a way of life. Like once, I got in my friend's car to ride with her to a work function some years ago. As soon as we sat in the car, before she even turned on the engine, she said "Buckle up and put on your ear plugs because I've got some bad road rage!" It was a WTF moment. I mean, really? Before you even turn the car on you're road raging? That's BS, in my humble opinion.

There are billions of people on this planet, all of which have different personalities, attention spans, abilities, tendencies, ages, mentalities, hairstyles ... I mean, do you really think your driving experience will be ideal when hundreds and thousands of different characters share the roadways? The road is one place you SHOULD be pessimistic because your disappointment is inevitable. Sad to say.

Humans are the superier and most intelligent beings of all living things, right? Then, why can't we control our own emotions at least a fraction of the time? You can look up and see hundreds of birds in a flock, flying together in harmony in a big pretty triangle with no problem whatsoever yet Lulu the Lane Changer gets flipped off and cussed out by Bubba the Big Truck Bully because he was inconvenienced for 2 seconds by having to push on his breaks a little harder and sooner than he planned.


But "bird" brain is considered an insult ... I beg to differ sometimes. Shouldn't we use the God-given reasoning skills we're supposed to have to realize that maybe ... just maybe ... that person who cut you off ----------> DIDN'T ACTUALLY MEAN TO!?

What if road ragers were to act out the same way in other cases where people do them wrong (in their minds)? Imagine every few seconds while at the grocery store, somebody is yelling and flipping off people because a person going down the same lane pushed their cart too close to the rager's cart. Or God forbid someone walks too close and bumps into them.


A friend of mine had a recent experience with a road rager.

"Yea -- that happened to me earlier this week. I was headed to work merging into the far left lane on I-10 East but I misjudged my spacing on the merge.

There still was room but I made that driver really angry. He came around me, got in front of me and hit his brakes really hard. So I just went around in another lane and kept going to avoid confrontation.

People like that don't need to be behind the wheel and seriously need some help. I've been in the reverse situation many times and I don't get angry, I just drive defensively!"


Another friend of mine had a terrible experience! This dude should have went to jail, IMO.

"Wow... some drivers are a little bit nuts. My cookie troop manager and I missed our exit and had to drive around to get back to the freeway. I was trying to cross to the turn lane and ended up cutting someone off in the lane. Not only did he race in front of me to brake hard in front of me on the freeway, but then he followed me for over 20 minutes. He only stopped because the police arrived to subdue him. I did not provoke him at all after I got in that line, I swear.

He even circled a parking lot several times behind me before the police arrived. The cops met us at the Girl Scout store on 59. Crazy Dude jumped out of his vehicle thinking he was going to get justice. He did. He was reprimanded for his behavior and cuffed while the cop searched his car. I didn't press charges, just wanted him to stop following us."

Ridiculous!! This is what I'm talking about. Road rage is one thing, but some people take it way too far and need to chill the F out.



See you next time!

Saturday, December 3, 2011

50% off = need it

It's no secret that females go crazy for the word "SALE!" It doesn't matter if it's frozen whale sperm that's 50% off, we will flock to it and find some off-the-wall logic for buying it. Like - I could defrost it and use it as a filler for this glass vase I've had in the garage for 3 years and if I add some blue marbles, it'll look nice 'n' shiny 'n' spermy! I'll put it in the upstairs bathroom that has an under-the-sea theme! Yea! That's what I'll do.


I don't spend a lot of money on stuff that isn't a household or personal necessity, simply because I CAN'T on a one-person-with-2-kids income. But that doesn't make me any different from other shopaholics, I just find a way, even on a smaller scale. I'm the master at finding great shoe and purse deals. I can also spot a red ticket, last-one-left sale item that's buried within a mass of other items like it's the Northern Star. There's just something about the words SALE and CLEARANCE and % OFF that gets me all hyped and tingly inside whether I need the stuff or not. Need is never the deciding factor ... actually, it is in a way. It's the NEED for a shopping high. The fix! The exhilarating feeling of GETTING something NEW!


Often times, there doesn't even have to be any flashy poster or ad. All it has to say is SALE, and you already got the attention of most women. Sale is a comfort term. It can be a void filler for if we're lonely, depressed or just so happy about something that buying stuff is a way to celebrate! Oooo! I cleaned the whole house today, yea! I deserve 10 new shirts. I got kudos for a project I presented at work! Hmm ... this calls for a new pair of shoes and some hair accessories I'll never use but are so fun to shop for. See ... somethin' like that. Shopping is a feel-good activity, almost like sex (but not really). 

One inevitable drawback to this shopping phenomenon is that we tend to fixate on cute stuff, buy it, then have no real use for it once it's in our house or closet. I have stuff I've worn once because I realized (after I lost the receipt and neglected to try it on) that it looked way better on the hanger in the store than on my body. I'm the classic closet pack rat when it comes to accessories and clothes. I save stuff that fit 5 years ago because it's my partial motivation for sticking to that fake diet I restart every day.

This is the result of such a habit ...


The age-old closet sectioning. The front-most section is filled with my "road runners" as my mom calls her most frequently used clothes. Then behind that, I keep the fat clothes, the ones for the bloated days and diet disaster days. Further back I keep a collection of clothes I could wear if only those last 15-20 pounds would just fall off already. It's like I'd have a whole new wardrobe just waiting for me. Lastly and sadly, I have a collection of skinny clothes. These are the ones that I bought in a mega sale or had for many years, back when I was my own mini-me. This collection of threads holds a sentimental , self-conscious value. If I throw them out, that means I'm admitting to being a chunky failure, a damned dieter, a lost soul of fashion's Atlantis. They are a spark of hope that someday I'll be the ideal me, so in my closet they must remain. The end.

And there you have it. The shopping cycle of many, many, many women. And don't think you can ever change it ... that is, unless you (meaning our romantic other halves) plan to rev up the romance to maximum overdrive! That would take our minds off shopping.

Meh ... didn't think so! Dust off your credit cards, it's the holiday season. Woot!

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