While looking online at the various options of stores which are desperately seeking my money, I got to thinking...if a store can cut prices by up to 90% and still make a margin, doesn't that mean their stuff is priced too high?
I digress.
The thing that interested me was that for what appeared to be a mere pittance of the former inflated value, I could possibly walk away with some pretty dang good bargains if I can just get the right fit and the right look.
I am not flamboyant by nature in my clothing. My favorite color is blue and up until a couple of years ago, various shades of blue were the regular mainstays of my wardrobe.
The only thing exotic about me is the collection of tacky and tasteless slogan t-shirts I own.
But I started thinking, wouldn't it be nice to have a couple of things that would make me look reasonably turned out for a reasonable price.
Welcome to the world of thrift store shopping and clearance rack bargain hunting. By the way, 90% off isn't a bargain if it's something you really won't wear or use. That's just finding a cheaper way to waste the moolah.
I got a lovely gray striped women's two-piece suit for which I have some nice blouses and for which I plan to get a small array of solid color shell type tops. And no, they will not all be blue.
Tempting...but no.
I also need to find some black shoes that are actually comfortable to walk in that will look dressy enough for church or going out but not kill my feet during the attempt.
Sadly, this is one area where thrift stores need not apply.
I may borrow the bowling alley clown shoes and watch them spray them to a faretheewell with the fungicidal spray, but I seriously doubt the thrift shop is doing the same. You just don't know where they have been! And they most certainly aren't hosed off with anti-whatever sprays and detergents.
So, I hunt the shoe stores once in a while for a sale that can fit within the budget and on the oddly sized feet I happen to possess. The shoes might fit one foot but drown the other... so I feel an almost sporting obligation to buy them regardless of color or style should they happen to come reasonably near fitting BOTH feet.
Which would explain the reason that I owned half a dozen pair of tennis shoes at one time. I have pared it down to a couple of pairs at the current time.
Athough people who are not fans of Madonna generally don't put their lingerie on display, that is also a money spending opportunity. Women want to make sure that what they have in the line of more 'personal attire' is decent looking and in good repair. While we don't wear it as dinner wear nor show up at the PTA with our bustiere outside our clothing, shopping for something tasteful that does the intended job is also required.
In my case, I do all of my shopping with a jaundiced eye squared situtated over the balance line in the checkbook. I can't afford to bankrupt the family just to be well-turned. Plus, for those who truly know me, it would be ridiculous to suddenly expect me to become a clotheshorse prancing around in designer gear when I am vastly more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt.
Daddy used to say most people spend like they have a champagne budget.
Count me in with the balogna crowd.
While I may have champagne type ideas, they are most assuredly tempered by the saltine and balogna reality that we face daily.
And I truly enjoy saving money.
The question comes down to 'just how much do you have to have?'. And the older I get the more that answer is becoming 'less'.
So maybe a low budget is a blessing that should be considered a precious commodity.
Meanwhile, my catalog looking and web surfing doesn't require any monotary contributions. And, as Martha Stewart says, "that's a good thing".
January 29, 2009
January 25, 2009
Petty Distractions
Church today was good. Until I found my sister staring at me oddly.
It was then I realized that shiny objects, conversation and life in general had once again interfered with alleged normalcy.
I had only applied mascara to one eye.
Sure. Go ahead. Laugh until you fall off of the side of the bed, will ya...
Truth be told, she peered intently at both eyes and said "Are you SURE you put any mascara on EITHER eye?"
And I cannot honestly answer.
My attention was diverted.
I'd like to say my attention was diverted by some heroic lifesaving moment where I pulled an entire orphanage from the fire and stared down the flames.
Or that I was swayed from my stated task of making myself resemble an adult female dressed for church by some phone call of a pressing international crises that needed my personal touch to resolve.
It wasn't even as mundane as toast needing to be rescued with a fork.
Nope.
Just stray thoughts and conversation is enough to send my thoughts and purpose fleeing from me like rich people from a slum.
Face it. Pinpoint thoughts and straight line actions are not at home in my brain. They are unaccustomed to the lack of focus, the squalid conditions of odd bits of emotion and strange ideas tossed about in haphazard fashion and the complete lack of a mental road map.
Sadly, I honestly must report to you that I have left my house in a nice pair of slacks, attractive sweater, face full of makeup and cheetah skin slippers.
What a fashion statement!
I don't mean to forget what comes next in the path from A to Z, but I am a lot like the pathetic story of Tootle the train who can't remember just why it is that he must stay on track.
Funny thing is, I recall hearing that particular phrase a LOT in my childhood. Blatantly attached to the 'Train to Nowhere' phase of my life, my teacher reminded me that if I didn't/couldn't/wouldn't stay on track that I would become a dreaded 'Caboose' in life.
Bringing up the rear in a dizzy confusion more than likely with only one eye made up and wearing my cheetah slippers, I am a caboose.
I used to be ashamed of that notion.
Today I'm not so sure.
When was the last time you heard people say that crazy people had stress?
Sign me up for the nut house. I'm ready for a reprieve on stress of all kinds.
But would some kind and focused person make sure I look decent before the men in the white coats come to take me away...?
It was then I realized that shiny objects, conversation and life in general had once again interfered with alleged normalcy.
I had only applied mascara to one eye.
Sure. Go ahead. Laugh until you fall off of the side of the bed, will ya...
Truth be told, she peered intently at both eyes and said "Are you SURE you put any mascara on EITHER eye?"
And I cannot honestly answer.
My attention was diverted.
I'd like to say my attention was diverted by some heroic lifesaving moment where I pulled an entire orphanage from the fire and stared down the flames.
Or that I was swayed from my stated task of making myself resemble an adult female dressed for church by some phone call of a pressing international crises that needed my personal touch to resolve.
It wasn't even as mundane as toast needing to be rescued with a fork.
Nope.
Just stray thoughts and conversation is enough to send my thoughts and purpose fleeing from me like rich people from a slum.
Face it. Pinpoint thoughts and straight line actions are not at home in my brain. They are unaccustomed to the lack of focus, the squalid conditions of odd bits of emotion and strange ideas tossed about in haphazard fashion and the complete lack of a mental road map.
Sadly, I honestly must report to you that I have left my house in a nice pair of slacks, attractive sweater, face full of makeup and cheetah skin slippers.
What a fashion statement!
I don't mean to forget what comes next in the path from A to Z, but I am a lot like the pathetic story of Tootle the train who can't remember just why it is that he must stay on track.
Funny thing is, I recall hearing that particular phrase a LOT in my childhood. Blatantly attached to the 'Train to Nowhere' phase of my life, my teacher reminded me that if I didn't/couldn't/wouldn't stay on track that I would become a dreaded 'Caboose' in life.
Bringing up the rear in a dizzy confusion more than likely with only one eye made up and wearing my cheetah slippers, I am a caboose.
I used to be ashamed of that notion.
Today I'm not so sure.
When was the last time you heard people say that crazy people had stress?
Sign me up for the nut house. I'm ready for a reprieve on stress of all kinds.
But would some kind and focused person make sure I look decent before the men in the white coats come to take me away...?
January 22, 2009
The Armpit of the Universe
It was bound to happen sooner or later.
Our world keeps spiraling out of control and there appears to be no stopping it.
Now, it seems that we are under a new stricture for women's beauty that is unbelievable and unattainable.
We need sexy armpits. Yes, that's right. ARMPITS.
The advertising was plain. Use their special underarm emollient enriched products and a new level of sexual attraction is within your grasp.
Who knew?
All of those years of dateless nights. Broken dates. No shows. Quick departures.
Everything makes sense now.
If only I had been endowed with sexy armpits, my lonely nights might have ended much sooner.
Oh no!
Now I am plagued with doubt.
Did my husband 'settle' for me because he couldn't find a woman with more desirable armpits?
Was the level of choice simply not decent enough so he selected the least revolting of the possibilities?
How will I ever know?
And, now that women are going to spend, spend, spend to create an all new erogenous zone - how will men compete? Have you ever looked at the hairy armpit of your average man?
Other than divers, swimmers and 'metrosexuals' who feel the need to shave, use depilatory products, peels or wax to remove the thatch that normally inhabits THEIR armpits - most men look more Neanderthal than sexy.
So what do we get?
Better looking KNEES.
Everyone knows most men's knees are just as unsexy as most women's armpits.
So now I must ask, frankly, I am COMPELLED to ask. Will the phrase 'the armpit of the universe' take on an all new meaning?
No more will places that are undesirable take on this appellation!
Now, chic vacation places will be called 'the armpit of the universe' since we are now equating sexual attraction and being part of the 'in crowd' with that once less than pleasing body part.
People who are assigned to areas of the world that are not their first choice for jobs, missions and other assignments will now describe the plum locales and glowingly brag, 'Yeah, I got to go to the armpit of the universe'!
Jealousy will ensue.
Soon, people will fight over the opportunity to be declared the 'one' with the armpits of the universe, so glorious and wondrous that all are humbled by their presence.
Or not.
I cannot in good conscience imagine a pageant in which the women are described by the character of their armpits.
And who decides what sexy is anyway?
To me, there is nothing sexier than a man taking care of his child.
Or a woman who mows the yard so her third shift husband can catch a few more hours of sleep on a summer Saturday.
Sexy is in the eye of the beholder and I am reasonably sure the view doesn't go through the armpit.
Our world keeps spiraling out of control and there appears to be no stopping it.
Now, it seems that we are under a new stricture for women's beauty that is unbelievable and unattainable.
We need sexy armpits. Yes, that's right. ARMPITS.
The advertising was plain. Use their special underarm emollient enriched products and a new level of sexual attraction is within your grasp.
Who knew?
All of those years of dateless nights. Broken dates. No shows. Quick departures.
Everything makes sense now.
If only I had been endowed with sexy armpits, my lonely nights might have ended much sooner.
Oh no!
Now I am plagued with doubt.
Did my husband 'settle' for me because he couldn't find a woman with more desirable armpits?
Was the level of choice simply not decent enough so he selected the least revolting of the possibilities?
How will I ever know?
And, now that women are going to spend, spend, spend to create an all new erogenous zone - how will men compete? Have you ever looked at the hairy armpit of your average man?
Other than divers, swimmers and 'metrosexuals' who feel the need to shave, use depilatory products, peels or wax to remove the thatch that normally inhabits THEIR armpits - most men look more Neanderthal than sexy.
So what do we get?
Better looking KNEES.
Everyone knows most men's knees are just as unsexy as most women's armpits.
So now I must ask, frankly, I am COMPELLED to ask. Will the phrase 'the armpit of the universe' take on an all new meaning?
No more will places that are undesirable take on this appellation!
Now, chic vacation places will be called 'the armpit of the universe' since we are now equating sexual attraction and being part of the 'in crowd' with that once less than pleasing body part.
People who are assigned to areas of the world that are not their first choice for jobs, missions and other assignments will now describe the plum locales and glowingly brag, 'Yeah, I got to go to the armpit of the universe'!
Jealousy will ensue.
Soon, people will fight over the opportunity to be declared the 'one' with the armpits of the universe, so glorious and wondrous that all are humbled by their presence.
Or not.
I cannot in good conscience imagine a pageant in which the women are described by the character of their armpits.
And who decides what sexy is anyway?
To me, there is nothing sexier than a man taking care of his child.
Or a woman who mows the yard so her third shift husband can catch a few more hours of sleep on a summer Saturday.
Sexy is in the eye of the beholder and I am reasonably sure the view doesn't go through the armpit.
January 21, 2009
As random as it gets
I'm not sure how I feel today.
I look out the window and see sunny skies, but I know they lie.
The thermometer is the arbiter of truth and reads a balmy 34 degrees. Brrr!
There is laundry to do, as always, and the hooplah of doing it last for such a short time. Sure, it's exciting to have clean clothing in the drawers and on hangers in the closet. But there just isn't much to it after that.
I seldom see people in my day to day except from a distance.
I use the drive up when I go do any banking and I am separated from the teller by bulletproof glass and a little snorkle like drawer that snakes out to take and return the bits and pieces of paper and metal that we use to define our lives and the purchases that separate us by classes.
If I go out to eat by myself, which is more rare than discovering an indian head cent in the couch cushions, I use the drive-in window.
I am alone so much of the time that even the phrase 'being alone with my thoughts' sounds almost like a self-indulgence.
During the time I read the scriptures in the morning, I try to visualize what imagery the words of the passages evoke. Sometimes, it's like watching a movie in my head and I can see the people and the events as if I was there on the sidelines as it happened.
Sometimes, I have the TV or the radio on just for the sake of the company of another voice in the house.
I did watch the inaugural events yesterday and part of the National Cathedral's prayer service.
Though I made my own notes in my journal last night, I write a few ideas here as well.
That our new president is a person of mixed ancestry of which the society has chosen to focus on his African American heritage solely is an interesting thing. Many people spent their lives literally in the shadows as beings not considered human simply because of the color of their skin.
So for that reason, this is a history making moment.
But a greater moment goes unsaid, unmentioned and uninvited to the party.
We have just elected a man with no experience to the highest office in the land. And he wants to chit-chat with nations who would overrun America and impose Sharia law.
I try not to get worked up about it and I pray for our nation and for the new office holders and those who will be office holders in a matter of hours and days.
They have a dream. But it isn't the dream I see.
They see a nation where killing people for convenience is a great idea.
They see a nation where rewarding the slack, the lazy and the unwilling sounds fine.
They see a nation where the government gets to decide the type of morals we teach our kids.
They see a nation where any relationship should be considered marriage, except the ONE relationship that truly IS.
They see a nation where religion only matters when it comes to voting for their agenda.
They see a nation where education is micromanaged against the interests of the students.
They see a nation filled with quotas and set-asides and earmarks.
They see a nation where if we speak softly, everyone will 'be our friends'.
They see a nation that should relax its presence in the world and reduce our readiness to make our 'new friends' happy.
They see a nation where people who work are evil and greedy and mean and who should allow the government a free hand in determining what they are able to keep of their own earnings.
They see a nation that welcomes criminals and turns away the decent.
They see a nation that refuses to punish those who would destroy us because they'd rather have the praise of a few than do what is right by the many.
They see a nation that should divest itself of our responsiblity to share the blessings of freedom abroad because it isn't 'popular'.
I don't see what they see.
If I need new glasses to see the future they want for me, I think I'd rather just be blind. You see, the dream I have is that everyone will have opportunity and responsibility to seize the moment.
If people choose to fail - they should be allowed to fall.
If people choose to be lazy - they should go hungry.
If people choose to commit crimes - they should be punished.
If people of other nations don't like our policy to help the downtrodden - all aid to THEIR nation should stop. Now.
Yeah...I know. I sound like a cynic.
Maybe I am.
But I am sick and tired of the fringe element getting the attention and making everyone else feel like trash.
And another little reminder - the Hollywierd elite won't be so elite and can' afford to espouse their political diatribes if WE, the people, quit buying their crap! Don't go to the movies of someone who's political position is not what you believe! Don't buy their music! Don't purchase the products and endorsed merchandise they sell.
When they have to shop at Piggly Wiggly and the Dollar General like all of the rest of us, maybe they won't be so sure that liberalism really works for anyone who has to earn an honest living.
Just running my mouth via the keyboard today...
I look out the window and see sunny skies, but I know they lie.
The thermometer is the arbiter of truth and reads a balmy 34 degrees. Brrr!
There is laundry to do, as always, and the hooplah of doing it last for such a short time. Sure, it's exciting to have clean clothing in the drawers and on hangers in the closet. But there just isn't much to it after that.
I seldom see people in my day to day except from a distance.
I use the drive up when I go do any banking and I am separated from the teller by bulletproof glass and a little snorkle like drawer that snakes out to take and return the bits and pieces of paper and metal that we use to define our lives and the purchases that separate us by classes.
If I go out to eat by myself, which is more rare than discovering an indian head cent in the couch cushions, I use the drive-in window.
I am alone so much of the time that even the phrase 'being alone with my thoughts' sounds almost like a self-indulgence.
During the time I read the scriptures in the morning, I try to visualize what imagery the words of the passages evoke. Sometimes, it's like watching a movie in my head and I can see the people and the events as if I was there on the sidelines as it happened.
Sometimes, I have the TV or the radio on just for the sake of the company of another voice in the house.
I did watch the inaugural events yesterday and part of the National Cathedral's prayer service.
Though I made my own notes in my journal last night, I write a few ideas here as well.
That our new president is a person of mixed ancestry of which the society has chosen to focus on his African American heritage solely is an interesting thing. Many people spent their lives literally in the shadows as beings not considered human simply because of the color of their skin.
So for that reason, this is a history making moment.
But a greater moment goes unsaid, unmentioned and uninvited to the party.
We have just elected a man with no experience to the highest office in the land. And he wants to chit-chat with nations who would overrun America and impose Sharia law.
I try not to get worked up about it and I pray for our nation and for the new office holders and those who will be office holders in a matter of hours and days.
They have a dream. But it isn't the dream I see.
They see a nation where killing people for convenience is a great idea.
They see a nation where rewarding the slack, the lazy and the unwilling sounds fine.
They see a nation where the government gets to decide the type of morals we teach our kids.
They see a nation where any relationship should be considered marriage, except the ONE relationship that truly IS.
They see a nation where religion only matters when it comes to voting for their agenda.
They see a nation where education is micromanaged against the interests of the students.
They see a nation filled with quotas and set-asides and earmarks.
They see a nation where if we speak softly, everyone will 'be our friends'.
They see a nation that should relax its presence in the world and reduce our readiness to make our 'new friends' happy.
They see a nation where people who work are evil and greedy and mean and who should allow the government a free hand in determining what they are able to keep of their own earnings.
They see a nation that welcomes criminals and turns away the decent.
They see a nation that refuses to punish those who would destroy us because they'd rather have the praise of a few than do what is right by the many.
They see a nation that should divest itself of our responsiblity to share the blessings of freedom abroad because it isn't 'popular'.
I don't see what they see.
If I need new glasses to see the future they want for me, I think I'd rather just be blind. You see, the dream I have is that everyone will have opportunity and responsibility to seize the moment.
If people choose to fail - they should be allowed to fall.
If people choose to be lazy - they should go hungry.
If people choose to commit crimes - they should be punished.
If people of other nations don't like our policy to help the downtrodden - all aid to THEIR nation should stop. Now.
Yeah...I know. I sound like a cynic.
Maybe I am.
But I am sick and tired of the fringe element getting the attention and making everyone else feel like trash.
And another little reminder - the Hollywierd elite won't be so elite and can' afford to espouse their political diatribes if WE, the people, quit buying their crap! Don't go to the movies of someone who's political position is not what you believe! Don't buy their music! Don't purchase the products and endorsed merchandise they sell.
When they have to shop at Piggly Wiggly and the Dollar General like all of the rest of us, maybe they won't be so sure that liberalism really works for anyone who has to earn an honest living.
Just running my mouth via the keyboard today...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)