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?

Happy Superbowl to the GROUND

As K and I went to go pick up Superbowl supplies to take over to our friends' house, we discovered it was my favorite day of the year. (No, not my birthday. Although, I DO turn 28 on Friday!)

It was FREE SAMPLE DAY AT PRICE CHOPPER.

And it wasn't even one of the shitty ones where they give you a tiny Dixie cup of fruit salad and send you on your way. They were making WINGS. And PIZZA. And they were GENEROUS.

Naturally, K and I hovered casually near the table until the crowd dissipated. Then, we pretended to be disinterested in the merchandise until the lady with the apron turned to us and lifted the magic lid to the magic tray bearing all sorts of delectables. Then she uttered the words I'd longed to hear:

"Would you like to try a free sample?"

Are you kidding me? Of course I would. But I played it coy, said "Oh? A free sample? That would be great, thank you."

K chose a honey BBQ flavored wing and I chose a hot one.

And it was everything I dreamed it could be.

But my excitement got the best of me when I went to take the last bite of my wing and DROPPED it on the FLOOR.

Happy Superbowl to the GROUND.

"Would you like to try another flavor?" She asked, unknowing.

While I bent down to slyly collect my mess and slip the bone into the trash, K and I gave each other a look and contemplated the possibilities. What if we each took another flavor, and kept eating until the tray was gone? Or better yet, what if we took the whole tray and walked around continuing our shopping trip? They don't think about these things when they set up FSD. We decided to take the high road and got out of there unscathed, but damn, was I tempted.

Thank you, Free Sample Day, for reminding me why I need to have self control. And class.

Black Friday's Most Irritating Customers

I'm not going to say who dragged who to Joann Fabrics Saturday, but somehow K and I ended up there with 2 overflowing carts in an astronomical line to check out. I know it's Black Friday weekend and everyone is all bah humbug and gimme gimme gimme, but I didn't expect the line to be as bad as it was.

There were 2 registers open, and we were lucky enough to end up in line directly behind the two worst people you could ever imagine being behind: Calculator Lady and Change-Counter / Price Check Man.

I swear this stuff writes itself. There we were in line, watching the syncronized shennanigans happening simultaneously on the two only open registers. The looks on the faces of the cashiers said it all, as their eyes traveled from the man counting pennies to pay for his nutcracker to the grumpy customers piling up in line.

Of course it was a huge sale day, and with modern technology being as unreliable as it is, Calculator Lady didn't trust the number the cash register came up with and decided if you want something done right, you have to pull out your pocket calculator and count that shit yourself.

Change Counter Man got half way through counting when he realized he had snagged the only nutcracker without a price tag, and requested the cashier abandon her post on the front lines and dash through the store to find one that did.

She returned minutes later to a grumbling crowd only to have the price come up differently than it had originally and Change Counter Man had to start at the beginning, quarters first.

When they finally paid for their items, Change Counter and Calculator Lady strolled out of the store taking their sweet time. I'm convinced they were in on it together and probably rode the same cab from the same apartment complex. They probably paid for the fare in change, too.

Badonkadonk

For years, I've been digging through the S-M-L bins at Deb, pretending everything didn't fit like a shrink-wrapped baby tee. It was only about a year ago at the ripe old age of 27 that I broke down and admitted that I couldn't shop in the Juniors section at Kohl's anymore. (Denial, anyone?)

I'd cry into my Big Mac the entire ride home, lamenting about how many zippers I'd broken in the fitting room. Until I found my mecca. Lane Bryant, my favorite store ever. And it's not just because they told me I'm a D-cup, when I've been wearing B's. (Because that's the one good thing about putting on a few pounds, y'all.)

Smiling cashiers open the doors in unison with unjudging eyes and chubby angels sing hymns from the rafters that sound like hugs from Jesus. It is a refuge from the restrictions of 5-7-9 when I've had too many Kalteen Bars, a safe haven for curvy chicks everywhere.

They welcome you in with a knowing smile, and you can leave your fears of a sob fest nothing-fits shopping trip at the door. I had no idea what I was missing. It was love at first sight of being on the "small" end of the LB size chart.

It's about damn time they made clothes for women with badonkadonks.

Price Chopper Rage

Have you ever woken up just feeling blah? I'm not even going to lie, that's how I felt this morning. I can't even explain why. Maybe it was because I woke up with toesicles outside of the warm fleece blankets, in a battle royale for cover from the cold. Or maybe it was the surprise cat vomit I found on the floor when I came downstairs. Or very possibly it could have been the fact that I am realizing how much I have to get accomplished in one week before we leave for the Mitten.

Either way, I was in an absolutely crap mood today. To make matters worse, K and I went to the Price Chopper on my lunch break to get some food for tonight, and I swear I could have punched a patron or two in the jugular. I mean, I'm talking people walking RIGHT in front of the car as we are trying to park, shopping carts scattered about like bowling pins, and people with their hazards on just stopped in the middle of the parking lot. And this was all before we even went IN. I can honestly see how people go postal during the holiday season, I really can.

Upon entering the Price Chopper, we elbowed our way to the food we needed, weaving and bobbing, sometimes bumping as we piled items high on our (hand) basket (singular.) We really should have gotten a rolling cart; we highly underestimated the amount of things we were going to be purchasing. So we found ourselves basically running through the PC, items bundled high in our arms, until we made it to the U-Scan with FAR more than 15 items, (I hate to be that guy, but today I just didn't care.) After a few mishaps with barcodes not scanning, we made it out of there alive.

I've had a few hours to process and digest this disaster of a day, and I've decided to reframe it. I am very much looking forward to the dinner party tonight with our good friends M&M, and I am going to just pretend like the first part of my day never happened. I can't wait to relax, have some good food, and catch up with everyone. These are the things I truly love about the holidays, and I'm not about to let cold toes and a few Price Chopper battle wounds hinder my weekend.

Holy hell, I haven't started Christmas shopping yet.

It hit me today like a ton of bricks, as I realized that it is December 3rd and started to slow panic. I haven't even started Christmas shopping yet. I have a list started of the people I need to buy for, complete with each person's name and a large blank space. Sure, I've jotted a few notes (I think I scored big time with the anniversary gift I got for K, a new Garmin GPS), but how do you top that? I really have no desire to get out my brass knuckles and drive the 35 minutes to the mall to beat up some moms for a prime parking spot, but I think it might be time. Otherwise I'm going to wind up pulling a Chandler and buying all of my gifts at the corner gas station. (Flashback to FRIENDS, anyone?)