Groupon is making me a shopaholic.

It's true. I was first introduced to this delightful angel of savings by my friend Kristin, who sent me one as a gift. I made an account, and started receiving daily emails containing thousands of things I instantly needed.

AND could save money on!

Like massages, exotic vacations, and SHOES at heels.com!

If you've seen my closet, you'll agree that I own less pairs of shoes than K does. Flat black boots, 3 pairs of Target flip flops, 1 pair of fancy flops (J-Crew outlet, beyotches!) and a few pairs of black heels that have been collecting dust in my closet since I started working from home. Who the hell needs stilettos when I can work in my Snuggie slippers? Needless to say, a Groupon for shoes is not a necessity for me.

My fancy flops. See the flowers?

Suddenly, everything that Groupon was offering me was something I DESPERATELY needed.

Ooh, electrolysis treatments! You know, I've been THINKING of looking into that!
Yoga classes! I haven't been in 6 months, but now seems like a good time to start!
Home Teeth Whitening Kit! Maybe my smile COULD use some brightening...

Before I knew it, I had 4 purchased Groupons in my queue. They make it so damn easy, saving your credit card info like that.

I actually used one Monday night, at a yoga class with my sister. But I can't tell if it proved beneficial, or a positive reinforcement to my shopping addiction.

Groupon Lovers Anonymous, anyone?

Facebook is heroin for my soul

Your drug is my love, Mark.

Some drink, some light crack pipes in darkened alleyways, and some eat themselves to death. I lose myself in status updates.

I first realized it back when I took a Facebook hiatus. I spend most of my days in a fog, blurry and unfocused, stressed, forgetting to eat, my mind whirls so fast.

I sit for hours engulfed in the ongoings of celebrities and people I knew 10 years ago, Maury on simultaneously, not knowing what time or day it is, or what I was in the middle of doing before my binge. It's a high, an escape from real life. I feel safe, mindless while I do it, and suddenly I'll realize hours have gone by and I feel exhausted, confused, my mind spinning.

Facebook is heroin for the soul.

So when it came time to make yet another new year's resolution, I decided mine would be to slow my life down.

Less Facebook.
No Maury.
More Knitting.

Sorry, Pancake. It's over.

So far, though I'm still devastated at the breakup, I'm 4 scarves in and I've managed to quit Maury and Pancake for good. Facebook, Twitter, Perez and Pinterest are a work in progress. (Baby steps, people.) Hell, who am I kidding. I've got Facebook open right now. Do they have rehab for social media addiction?

I quit the crack. Sort of.

I have DONE IT, YA'LL! Cue the slow clap. Since my last post at 2:13pm on Monday about how I just couldn't quit facebook despite my most gratuitous efforts, I have managed to remain OFF the FB. Each day got a little easier, and I managed to ONLY log on to my blog account to announce the new blog posts. I swear.

And I know it's only 9:30am on Friday, but I'm confident I'll be able to make it through. All it took was a little strength, perserverance, and a carton of cigarettes. I kid. I kid. Still smoke free since '93.

Annnnyways. So I have fought the power, stayed all strong and I'm feeling great! My head is slightly less cluttered, and I didn't feel like I had to refresh the page every two seconds to find out just how much jelly my best friend from elementary school likes on her PB&J.

Then yesterday comes.

I get a text from my sister asking about the details on our cousin's birthday party. What... birthday party? She tells me it's on facebook. Sonofa.

I missed something. My worst fears have come true, I have missed something. And not only that, but it's an event. That I have to RSVP to. When I get an invite to an event, the anxiety rises up in me like I'm going to spontaneously combust. It's like somebody flips an invisible hourglass and time is RUNNING OUT. Until I click that button and RSVP like the good socialite that I am.

Some people are fine with just leaving events in facebook purgatory. K is one of these people. I am SO not. I feel like if I don't respond to an event, everyone is going to hate me and I will have no friends. I straight panic. Lately, I've started replying "maybe" if I'm not entirely sure, just so that I have given some kind of answer. This seems to piss people off too.

So I had to do it. I logged on ONCE yesterday, just to reply "Yes" to the invite. I felt compelled to do it, even though I talk to my cousin regularly and could have easily just told her I was coming. But don't worry, I didn't look at ANYTHING else. Not even the little red box with the number "6" in it, showing how many people had written me messages and tried to contact me while I've been on FB hiatus. It. Was. Hard.

So despite the fact that my worst fears prevailed while I was on FB vacay and I happened to miss something that happened this week, I think the pros outweigh the cons. Maybe I can gradually step down my fb usage and just become a casual user, instead of overdosing on a daily basis. We'll see how I do next week.

Facebook is a giant crack rock.

I woke up this morning with big dreams. I had derived an ambitious plan to take over the world... and try to give up facebook for the week. I made it 3 hours.

Facebook is a giant crack rock, luring me to its crooked slumlord house with promises of prostitutes sitting in corners and bare mattresses in dirty, upstairs rooms. My plan was to try to eliminate the many factors that bring stress to my life, since I have a habit of over multi-tasking. I try to get several things done at once, which leads to me standing in the middle of the kitchen hours later, hands on my hips, head spinning like Linda Blair, trying to remember why I came down to the kitchen in the first place.

I thought this might have a lot to do with trying to get so many things done at the same time. I still think it does. My first plan of attack was to document my week without facebook and make a journal of how much better I was feeling at the end of the week.

Fail. Here's how the morning wound up going:

Hour one: sipping coffee, doing productive things for various clients on the computer. Have only one tab open in my internet browser. Have moments of restlessness, but am overall feeling very good about my strength and self control. Am very optimistic about end results.

Hour two: productive tasks begin to slow down a bit as projects become accomplished. Moments of restlessness become more severe. Have drank two large cups of coffee to compensate for being bored. Allow myself to open Gmail and PerezHilton to distract.

Hour three: begin to wonder if my sister has posted the photos from this weekend. Wonder what everyone else was up to this weekend. Begin to fantasize that people have become engaged or married or had babies in the two hours since I have been on facebook. Restlessness becomes more intense, translates to another large cup of coffee. I try to force Twitter into being my rebound boyfriend and attempt to get myself interested in that as a replacement. It doesn't work. Twitter is the poor man's facebook. And seeing as how I am only following 20 people, it can only be SO interesting. I even go so far as to check Charlie Sheen's page to see if any more cops have come to his house over the weekend. No dice.

End of hour three: legs shaking. Convince myself that a quick check of the newsfeed is not only healthy, but necessary. I need to know what has gone on this weekend, and the world is obviously going to come crashing down if I don't check it. I hover my mouse over the bookmark on my toolbar, teasing myself, like a crack addict holding a pipe. Just to see what will happen. I'm testing my strength. Suddenly, my willpower smashes to bits. The mouse inevitably clicks itself on facebook, and that beautiful blue page opens up full screen on my monitor. I put down the coffee and dive face first into the drama that has occurred over the weekend. All is right with the world.

A few hours later, I'm left feeling satisfied but slightly dejected that my ambitious week-long endeavor lasted 3 hours. I thought I was stronger than that. My big ambitious dreams crashed and burned with one click of the mouse. And yes, my sister did post the pictures from this weekend. They were glorious. But part of me wonders if in a few hours I will wind up downstairs, doing laps around my kitchen, wondering why I had come downstairs in the first place. Maybe I'll give this plan another shot. You never know--tomorrow I could last a whole four hours.

UPDATE: I have managed to stay off of facebook since I posted this delicious blog morsel. Bets on if I can keep it up for the rest of the week? So far it's been almost 36 hours. Must be a record.