The feeling of having to go to the grocery store to buy things for my party stayed with me the whole day like an itchy mosquito bite. I would forget about having to go, and then it would start itching again. Grocery shopping is my biggest challenge because I always see something that I don't need to survive but love to eat, like candied pecans, popcorn, and Diet Coke. Ugh -- how am I going to get through the month without Diet Coke? Water is the only necessity for fluids, so I guess I'll have to drink more water. Good thing I like it, but it's not my drink of choice. I thought about buying a case for my party, but I already have a 12-pack, so I couldn't put Diet Coke on the necessity list for the party. Diet Coke may be my downfall.
Before going to the store I rummaged around my refrigerator and made a list -- and checked it twice -- to make sure I wouldn't buy anything that wasn't a luxury. One thing I found in the back of my refrigerator was a carton of whipping cream that I didn't use for the Christmas festivities. My half-and-half-in-my-coffee dilemma came to a close because I can make that carton last for the whole month (I hope). A little heavy whipping cream goes a looooooonnnnnnnng way to making coffee creamy.
Finally, at 7:30 p.m. I ventured to Dominicks. I figured the advantage to going at that time was that everyone would be done with their NYE shopping and the place wouldn't be crowded. Wrong. It was packed! Either people don't care much about NYE, or they all waited until the last minute to get their goods for the night. The ridiculous warm temperatures brought out an entertaining few -- like the two guys in shorts and sandals who were putting 12-packs of beer in their carts. Most amazing is that they weren't together...they were just two Chicago guys wearing shorts at the end of December. It was warm, but certainly not shorts weather! Their mission was evident: New Year's Eve celebration. Then there were the harried ones (more than you would think) who were zooming up and down the aisles, grabbing crackers, dip, chips, and cheese like the sky was falling. They must have been New Year's Eve revelers, too. Or perhaps their NO SHOPPING CHALLENGE was starting on January 1st and they wanted to get in all the non-necessary items they'd need to tide them over. The people with lists in hand could've been either weekly shoppers or party people. I was one of the people with a list in hand.
On my NECESSITY list for the party was this: Lettuce, strawberries, dipping chocolate, pita chips (to go with the hummus I had left over from Christmas, grapes, spinach dip to go with the veggies I had left over from Christmas, and Wheat Thins. I know what you're thinking about that dipping chocolate....how could that be a necessity? I know my guests and it was most definitely a necessity. A little bit of chocolate keeps everyone happy and satiated during all the gaming activities. Sometimes a necessity is about someone else's needs, and in this case, dipping chocolate was absolutely needed! Just ask Karen. Oh, and I bought the buns because I wasn't positive my friends were bringing them. Must have been the request for vacuum bags and vacuuming that kept anyone from committing to that item. Guess I'll have to do the vacuuming myself.
I also picked up a couple of things for my son's New Year's Eve gathering because it's good to have food on New Year's Eve. I got the bare essentials for their party: buns, ham, lettuce, cheese and one bag of chips. Oh, I got them grapes because my son's girlfriend is from Spain and Spaniards have a tradition of eating 12 grapes in 12 seconds as they tick down the last of the year.
I also picked up a few necessities for the coming week because I'm going back to school on January 3rd, and if I don't have the necessities to eat properly, I'll cave when I'm hungry and I'll end up buying food at a restaurant -- a most definite luxury. That's where the egg whites, turkey, milk, baby carrots, salad and Weight Watchers breakfasts came in. In total I spent $129.88. Really it doesn't seem like I got much for that amount, but I realized that the grapes were a fortune. Who knew?
I managed to get through the day only buying these things, all of which I deemed necessities. (I still have vacuum bags on the luxury list, so I didn't buy those.) It could've been worse -- I could've bought a lot of luxury items and would've spent way more than $129.88.
Successfully Yours,
Karrie
Showing posts with label consumerism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label consumerism. Show all posts
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Days 1 - 6 - December 25-30, 2010 Brain Rewiring
The redirection of my brain to thinking about my consumer habits is proving to be interesting. I frequently say I hate to shop, and wouldn't be caught dead in places like Bloomingdales or Macys because the mark-up on their merchandise is shocking. Carsons has to have a really big sale in order for me to go there, and even then it's only to buy Clinque products (which they never have on sale) or clothes. My stores of choice are: Target, Wal-Mart (Don't slay me with all the political stuff about Wal-Mart, please. I can make an argument either way.), and thrift stores.
My favorite shopping experience of all time was a huge old warehouse called The Smokestack in Frankfort, Michigan. Frankfort is a little resort town on Lake Michigan. Their public library is one room, and they have a five-and-dime in the heart of town. The bars and restaurants close in the off-season, and the barbershop doubles as a gun shop. The one thing this little town had was the perfect shopping experience. The Smokestack building was a catacomb of rooms that had been added on over the years. The floor was made of concrete and was uneven from room-to-room; it was easy to trip as you turned a corner leaving the building supply room to go into the electronics room. The roof had leaks in it, and the merchanise came from the area residents who didn't want their stuff anymore. If you needed some esoteric thing for your cottage while you were up there in the North, you went to The Smokestack because it was likely you'd find it. The warehouse was like a huge unorganized garage sale. Granted, the rooms had themes of products, but everything was a big jumble on shelves, in boxes, on the floor, or wherever they could set something. If you wanted an ironing board, you'd most likely have to remove several blenders, a George Foreman grill, and antique blue canning jars from the top of it before you could haul it up to the check-out area. Over the years of going there, some of the more entertaining things I saw for sale included a boat shell with a big hole in the hull Jaws-style ($6000), a package of used foam curlers ($4.00), and thousands of cutlery and other kitchen utensils (25 cents a piece). I could list a 1,000 things and every one of them would be there, tucked into some dark little corner. If you were ambitious you could walk around the warehouse that had to be as big as a football field if you could stretch it out, and find your item in three different places, ranging in price from 99 cents to $18.00. It was the hunt that was so much fun; so on rainy days when we couldn't go to the beach, we'd go to The Smokestack and dodge the buckets of rainwater collecting as it was was pouring from the roof, while looking for a gem. I couldn't wait to get to The Smokestack every summer, but sadly, my favorite shopping venue was violently torn down and replaced with condos in this little beach town. Frankly, now that The Smokestack is gone, I don't know where everyone is going to entertain themselves on rainy days, or when they need to find a black ribbon for an old Smith-Corona typewriter. Maybe craigslist or eBay, I guess, but it's not the same. Wherever those indoor garage sales are housed, I'm sure the roof isn't leaking.
So if this is my idea of the perfect shopping experience, you can believe me when I say shopping isn't an obsession for me. And that's why this challenge is interesting for me because I'm quickly realizing that I've underestimated my shopping tendencies. Today I found myself out and about, returning products that I bought before Christmas, and seriously thinking about buying something else in the store. All the little products they put at the cash register for a quick grab-and-buy, made my return at the Dress Barn a challenge when I saw a great pair of earrings. No.
Then I needed to buy gas for my car. I drive a Prius, so I buy gas every 4 weeks, and I try to buy gas only at CostCo because they are usually 10 cents less than anywhere else. A week ago buying gas would've been a luxury, today it was a necessity -- the little beeper went off and the gas gauge was flashing. So, I purchased $25.00 worth of gas, and as I drove home I went passed the street where The Village Treasure House in Glenview is located. I started thinking that I 'needed' a head and foot board for one of my bedrooms. Force of habit -- near the store and I need something. I almost went just to look to see if they had any head boards (and all the other cool things they sell. Now that I think about it, The Village Treasure House is the North Shore's answer to The Smokestack. People bring their 'junk' for resale. Of course the Treasure House wouldn't dream of selling used foam curlers, and their roof is sound.). I decided against it. What if I saw the perfect head board? I wouldn't be able to buy it because technically I didn't need it. The mattress and box spring are doing just fine sitting on the floor. Luxury. I had to admit that maybe I'm more of a consumer than I originally thought.
This is worrying me a bit because I'm trying to throw a party without having to go to the grocery store. Friends are coming over on New Year's Day to play games, and everyone will bring something, but surely there will be something that I'll need to get, right? I'll have to invoke the luxury vs necessity rule. One good thing is that there is no need to worry about the games -- I own a bunch of them. I rarely could convince my children to play games with me, so they are in the basement waiting for when I have grandchildren -- the games, that is.
Can I throw a party without buying food? This might be the ultimate challenge because I don't want to throw a Mary Tyler Moore disaster party. That being said, I have all the beverages I need, and people will bring appetizers and desserts. The question is: Can I get someone to bring sandwich buns and vacuum cleaner bags? Vacuum cleaner bags? I just discovered that my vacuum bag is full and I don't want to put this in the necessity category because I hate vacuuming. I think I'll say vacuum cleaner bags are a luxury for sure, and that way I won't have to vacuum. How convenient it would be if I could get one of my guests to bring sandwich buns, vacuum bags and vacuum for me!
Day 6 and I only purchased gas for my car -- a necessity.
Hanging in there,
Karrie
My favorite shopping experience of all time was a huge old warehouse called The Smokestack in Frankfort, Michigan. Frankfort is a little resort town on Lake Michigan. Their public library is one room, and they have a five-and-dime in the heart of town. The bars and restaurants close in the off-season, and the barbershop doubles as a gun shop. The one thing this little town had was the perfect shopping experience. The Smokestack building was a catacomb of rooms that had been added on over the years. The floor was made of concrete and was uneven from room-to-room; it was easy to trip as you turned a corner leaving the building supply room to go into the electronics room. The roof had leaks in it, and the merchanise came from the area residents who didn't want their stuff anymore. If you needed some esoteric thing for your cottage while you were up there in the North, you went to The Smokestack because it was likely you'd find it. The warehouse was like a huge unorganized garage sale. Granted, the rooms had themes of products, but everything was a big jumble on shelves, in boxes, on the floor, or wherever they could set something. If you wanted an ironing board, you'd most likely have to remove several blenders, a George Foreman grill, and antique blue canning jars from the top of it before you could haul it up to the check-out area. Over the years of going there, some of the more entertaining things I saw for sale included a boat shell with a big hole in the hull Jaws-style ($6000), a package of used foam curlers ($4.00), and thousands of cutlery and other kitchen utensils (25 cents a piece). I could list a 1,000 things and every one of them would be there, tucked into some dark little corner. If you were ambitious you could walk around the warehouse that had to be as big as a football field if you could stretch it out, and find your item in three different places, ranging in price from 99 cents to $18.00. It was the hunt that was so much fun; so on rainy days when we couldn't go to the beach, we'd go to The Smokestack and dodge the buckets of rainwater collecting as it was was pouring from the roof, while looking for a gem. I couldn't wait to get to The Smokestack every summer, but sadly, my favorite shopping venue was violently torn down and replaced with condos in this little beach town. Frankly, now that The Smokestack is gone, I don't know where everyone is going to entertain themselves on rainy days, or when they need to find a black ribbon for an old Smith-Corona typewriter. Maybe craigslist or eBay, I guess, but it's not the same. Wherever those indoor garage sales are housed, I'm sure the roof isn't leaking.
So if this is my idea of the perfect shopping experience, you can believe me when I say shopping isn't an obsession for me. And that's why this challenge is interesting for me because I'm quickly realizing that I've underestimated my shopping tendencies. Today I found myself out and about, returning products that I bought before Christmas, and seriously thinking about buying something else in the store. All the little products they put at the cash register for a quick grab-and-buy, made my return at the Dress Barn a challenge when I saw a great pair of earrings. No.
Then I needed to buy gas for my car. I drive a Prius, so I buy gas every 4 weeks, and I try to buy gas only at CostCo because they are usually 10 cents less than anywhere else. A week ago buying gas would've been a luxury, today it was a necessity -- the little beeper went off and the gas gauge was flashing. So, I purchased $25.00 worth of gas, and as I drove home I went passed the street where The Village Treasure House in Glenview is located. I started thinking that I 'needed' a head and foot board for one of my bedrooms. Force of habit -- near the store and I need something. I almost went just to look to see if they had any head boards (and all the other cool things they sell. Now that I think about it, The Village Treasure House is the North Shore's answer to The Smokestack. People bring their 'junk' for resale. Of course the Treasure House wouldn't dream of selling used foam curlers, and their roof is sound.). I decided against it. What if I saw the perfect head board? I wouldn't be able to buy it because technically I didn't need it. The mattress and box spring are doing just fine sitting on the floor. Luxury. I had to admit that maybe I'm more of a consumer than I originally thought.
This is worrying me a bit because I'm trying to throw a party without having to go to the grocery store. Friends are coming over on New Year's Day to play games, and everyone will bring something, but surely there will be something that I'll need to get, right? I'll have to invoke the luxury vs necessity rule. One good thing is that there is no need to worry about the games -- I own a bunch of them. I rarely could convince my children to play games with me, so they are in the basement waiting for when I have grandchildren -- the games, that is.
Can I throw a party without buying food? This might be the ultimate challenge because I don't want to throw a Mary Tyler Moore disaster party. That being said, I have all the beverages I need, and people will bring appetizers and desserts. The question is: Can I get someone to bring sandwich buns and vacuum cleaner bags? Vacuum cleaner bags? I just discovered that my vacuum bag is full and I don't want to put this in the necessity category because I hate vacuuming. I think I'll say vacuum cleaner bags are a luxury for sure, and that way I won't have to vacuum. How convenient it would be if I could get one of my guests to bring sandwich buns, vacuum bags and vacuum for me!
Day 6 and I only purchased gas for my car -- a necessity.
Hanging in there,
Karrie
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