"I always say shopping is cheaper than a psychiatrist." - Tammy Faye Bakker

I need to seriously consider joining Shopaholics Anonymous. I buy things compulsively, particularly shoes and purses and sometimes expensive shoes and purses. Walking through the mall or shopping online, I will stumble across something that I absolutely MUST have. If I don't buy it on the spot, I obsess over it. I check for it to go on sale. I dream about it. Inevitably, I purchase it. This bag from Anthropologie is the object of my latest desire.

I first saw it while shopping in San Francisco over the holidays. The bright colors stood out against the black background like the Northern Lights shining in a dark, winter sky. (OK, it's not really comparable to a natural phenomenon, but it's PRETTY!) The best part was the clearance price! The original $118 price was crossed out in red pen and what I thought read $29.99 was written below. It was going to be mine.

Apparently, twos and fives can look very similar in scripty salesperson writing because when I got to the register, it rang up $59.99. Ouch! I had already spent a boatload of money on my trip and could not justify dropping $60 on a purse at the time. So, I put it back and shed a little tear.

It's been haunting me ever since. Diligently, I check the Anthropologie website weekly to monitor the price. If it goes down ten cents I'm buying it. Who am I kidding? I'm going to buy it regardless. It's only a matter of time. However, instead of buying it on-the-spot-because-I-absolutely-have-to-have-it-right-now, I'm going to wait until I save up enough money to purchase it and still be able to buy gas. What good is a fancy new purse if you can't go anywhere to show it off because you have no gas?

Obamarama

January 20, 2009 was truly a day for the history books. The first African American president of the United States of America was sworn into office. A man who has promised change for the better. So many Americans are counting on him. He gave us hope and now we wait for the promises to be kept.

The media has been all over the historical significance of this event. Some people are annoyed by the hype and think it's been taken too far. Others don't believe Barack Obama will bring about the dramatic changes the country is looking for. They talk of disappointment and failure instead of hope and change.

To all of the neigh-sayers, I say bah humbug. Are you sick of hearing about how history is being made? Turn off your t.v. and read a book. Maybe you'll tune back in when a negative story makes headlines again. It won't be long, we are in a recession after all. For now, let the rest of the country enjoy positive news while it lasts.

Does the connection to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. make you roll your eyes? I hope they don't get stuck in the back of your head. Dr. King was murdered a mere forty years ago and now a black man is president of this country. That's a big deal.

Does, "Yes we can!" make your stomach turn? Perhaps it's because you can't connect to millions of your fellow Americans who have joined together in celebration. When is the last time we had something to collectively celebrate as a country? It's been a long time. I feel bad that you can't be happy with the rest of us, but don't put a damper on our celebration. Occasions like this don't happen every day.

Are you tired of Obama being portrayed as a god-like savior who is going to fix the world's problems with the snap of his fingers? So am I. He's not and not all Obama supporters think that way. The ones that do are loopy. He is a man with many flaws just like the rest of us. He will do many things in the next four years, but miracle-working isn't on his to-do list.

Personally, my greatest hopes for the Obama administration involve an end to the Iraq war and an economic upturn. I don't expect either of these things to happen over night. Change is difficult and painstakingly slow. America must be patient and remember that whatever happens, it has to be better than the past eight years. I believe the card below from someecards.com says it best.

Monsieur Masseur

I'm addicted to professional massages. Unfortunately, my bank account does not allow me to indulge in this addiction very often. So, when a salon that I had a gift certificate for started offering massage services recently, it was cause for excitement.

I called to make an appointment and the receptionist confirmed the date and time. "You're all set for a 30 minute neck and back massage with Daniel," she said. Great! Uh, wait a second, what was that last part? Did you say Daniel? As in a man? Rubbing oil all over my neck and back? This could be weird.

I've always gone to a woman masseuse, it's what I'm comfortable with. Massages can be very intimate situations that are completely dependent on your ability to relax. Most involve getting completely naked, lying on a cozy, cushioned, heated table in a dimly lit room with soft music playing. For me, it's the most relaxing thing in the universe. My mind wanders into complete nothingness as the silky-smooth hands of a professional massage therapist hit all the right pressure points and release all of those nasty toxins. It is heaven.

Having some dude at the helm of my journey to relaxation was a little scary. Would I be comfortable? Would I be able to relax? What business does a man have getting into a profession that involves rubbing oil all over naked women? (I have similar feelings about male gynecologists). I considered calling back and rescheduling for a manicure, but what the hell, a free massage is a free massage and I was sure that Daniel was a professional. He deserved a fair shot. Besides, it was just neck and back, not like I had to take my pants off.

So, I went. And it was weird. And Daniel was hot. Which made it weirder. And he was not the best massage therapist I've ever been to, which was a little disappointing. But, I conquered my fear of masseurs and used up my gift certificate, so all was not lost.

It wasn't that he was bad, I've just had way better (nothing will ever compare to Ariel at the Paris Spa by Mandara in Las Vegas.) And it was different. His hands were rough. His sneakers squeaked on the tile floor. He tried to make small talk. I had to stifle a giggle fit when he asked if the pressure was OK and said, "Tell me if you want more." He was also on the short side, which put his crotch basically on my head when he bent over the top of the table to reach down my back. The whole thing had qualities comparable to an awkward one-night stand, including when I told him I'd call again.

I'll be sticking with female massage therapists in the future. I don't want to base my opinion of all masseurs on Daniel, I'm sure there are amazing ones out there, but I will never be 100 percent comfortable in a room with a strange man, without my clothes on. And to Daniel - thanks for being my first. I'll never forget you.

Could I be a California Girl?

It's 2 A.M. on Monday morning and I have to be at work in a few short hours for the first time in almost two weeks. It's going to be the worst Monday in the history of Mondays. I'm wide awake though, changing time zones will do that to ya.

I just returned from an eye-opening trip to California and my mind is racing with hopes, thoughts, plans and possibilities. My dear friend Molly moved to San Francisco this past summer and I finally got the chance to visit. "You'll love it out here," she told me. "You should really think about moving here," she said. "You NEED to get out of Buffalo," was repeated many times.

Truth is, that thought has been in my head for quite some time. The only thing holding me back was fear. What if I can't stand being away from my family? What if I hate it? What if it makes me sad? What if I miss something important at home? What if I want to move back and can't find a job?

Some of those fears still exist for me, but this trip muted them substantially. And it pretty much obliterated the, "What if I hate it?" part. I know with almost absolute certainty that I would completely love living in San Francisco.

Whenever I'd considered moving away before, New York was always at the top of my list. I think that was part of the problem. New York is scary. It's dirty and cold and gigantic and mean. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love it, but it's MEAN. (New York, you know I love you, please forgive me.) The scariness is part of its appeal though, if you can make it there you can make it anywhere, right? I've always had this drive to prove that I can be successful on my own in a big city like that.

This trip opened my eyes to the possibility of being successful on my own in a big, friendly city. San Francisco is clean and warm and bright and welcoming. Life there seems manageable. Everyone seems genuinely happy, at least everyone that I met. And the best part? It's on the freaking ocean! It doesn't get any better than that. Any city where you can look out your window and see surfers walking down the street in their wet suits, carrying surf boards is far from intimidating.

Observing Molly and her group of friends, many of them Buffalo transplants and almost all of them transplants from somewhere, I saw a group of positive, adventurous, energetic, spirited, easy-going people who are so full of life. A drastic change from the mid-winter population of Buffalo. I had a lot of fun with them and hope to have more fun soon.

I will always be a Buffalo girl at heart, but there is a whole big world out there with so much opportunity. I want to explore it, to learn and grow from it. There are things out there that Buffalo just can't offer an unattached 25 year-old girl itching for something more in her life.

California inspired me to end the stagnation. I've been in a rut and the only way I'll ever get out is to climb. I've been unhappy with life lately and I am the only one that can turn it around. Will I end up in San Francisco? Perhaps. Only time will tell.

"We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of the dream. Wandering by lone sea breakers, and sitting by desolate streams. World losers and world forsakers, for whom the pale moon gleams. Yet we are movers and the shakers of the world forever it seems." - Arthur William Edgar O'Shaughnessy

So Much To Be Thankful For

Thanksgiving weekend is always crazy, fun, exhausting and one of my favorite times of the year. It's the official kick-off to the holiday season and there is so much going on. I know it's cheesy, but it's also the perfect time to pause for a moment and reflect on the many things to be thankful for. Here's my list:

• That I finished the 8K Turkey Trot almost ten minutes faster than last year. OK, it still took me 1:15:13, ranking 600 out out of 647 in my age group, but it's an improvement damn it!
• My job. Times are tough and I'm lucky enough to not only get a pay check every two weeks, but to actually enjoy my work and the people I do it with.
• All of my friends and family are healthy and we can celebrate another holiday season together.
• My parents. They're awesome and I don't thank them enough for their awesomeness.
  
• Staying in touch with friends. It's hard to do sometimes, but you find away to stay connected to the ones that matter most.
  
• The urge to clean, consolidate and get rid of junk. It's a project I was putting off for a long time and I've been on a roll lately! Organizing your physical space has a funny way of helping you organize other parts of your life.
  

I don't care for your fairytales.

I haven't written a blog about my personal life in quite some time. I tried to stick with current events for awhile, in order to keep writing without spilling my guts to the entire Internet community. Today, I say "screw it."

Writing is so therapeutic for me. It provides such a release, as if each word I type helps me let go of whatever ails me at the moment. It's been too long since I've gone through this process. I suppose I've been holding it all in because if you don't admit your problems, they don't really exist, right? Not so much.

So what's the problem this time? A boy, of course. I thought this one was different. It started out like a fairytale, for crying out loud. Girl's high school crush resurfaces ten years later to reveal his feelings for her. It sounds like a movie plot. I shouldn't have let the romanticism sweep me off my feet like that. I know better. But it was so nice to feel warm and fuzzy toward someone again. Particularly this someone.

So, I jumped in. Except I think that I jumped alone. I thought I was diving into an ocean, mysterious, beautiful, vast and full of life. It turned out to be a dirty puddle. And now I stand here, sheepishly, with wet feet. And my damn shoes squeak when I walk down the hallway, each step a reminder of my mistake.

OK, maybe I took that analogy a bit too far. Blame it on the writing drought. The point is, I thought I had become sufficiently numb to love. I thought I trained myself to get involved without getting too close. Not true, dear readers of my blog (if there are any), not true. I just wasn't involved with anyone worth getting close to. It's looking like this one wasn't worth it either.

So, what have I learned? I am not numb. That's a good thing. The emotions that have surfaced are not pleasant, but they are mine and I just have to plow through them until I get to the other side. It stings, but I've been through much worse and lived to be a better person for it.

Also, boys cannot be trusted. Kidding, kidding. I am quite sure that there are plenty of trustworthy males in this world, I even know a few of them. Just haven't found the one for me yet. My second lesson goes something like this: Jumping in is not a good idea unless you're holding someone's hand and they jump with you. Even then, sometimes it doesn't work out. So, next time, maybe I'll try actually talking things out before setting my expectations so high. Yea, that sounds like a better idea.

I shall leave you with a song that I thoroughly enjoy singing in the car at the top of my lungs in times like these...

"Once upon a time in a faraway kingdom
Man made up a story said that I should believe him
Go and tell your white knight that he's handsome in hindsight
But I don't want the next best thing"

Target Women

Check out Sarah Haskin's hilarious Target Women videos on Current.com. She makes fun of gender-specific advertising and other things society says girls should like or be good at, including cleaning, feeding your family and chick flicks. I'm a fan of the Disney Princesses and the Number Two episodes. Check them all out by clicking here.