It Hurts to My Very Core

Well, it happened. The frugality got out of control, I'll admit. You knew it was going to happen. No, I didn't get imprisoned for coupon fraud or anything like that, but I did stoop a level. Let me take you with me....

I was driving along Park, kind of a busy thoroughfare 'round where I live. But, through six lanes of traffic, I saw it! Over there, to the right....in someone's alley. Right next to their trashcans, the sun shone upon the treasure I'd been looking for: gently used toys! I'm not talking trash, people. These were Big Expensive Toys.

Like this car,

this easel,

and this bike. Just sitting there! Next to the trashcans! My mind began to race as my heart picked up the pace. Were they really trash? Free trash? Perfectly good, new-looking toys just cast out on what must be bulk trash day? I drove several more blocks while the wheels in my mind turned and processed before making a determined U-turn and whipping my car back in the direction of the Treasure. We're talking $168 worth of toys here.

I steered carefully into their alley to check this situation out and make sure this was really trash. I wasn't trying to steal anything. After a quick survey of the situation, I decided the appropriate thing to do was to ask the owner. As Piglet was in the car, I had to drive around to the front of the house to ask, so I slowly pulled away from my find. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I saw a white van pull up in my spot and a door open. They were checking out my loot! Oh, NO she DI-ENT! I threw it in reverse and squealed back to the thieves.

"Hi!" I called cheerfully. "Do you think that's trash? I was just going to ask the owner myself." Smile. [Translation: Step off my goods, freak! I was here first!]

"Yo no hablo ingles. Blah blahdy blado." she said smiling. Yeah, sure you don't.

"I'm going around front to ask her!" I said with a glare and stepped back into my car. I whizzed around the corner and screeched to a halt in front of the house in question. Then I almost fell out of the car. The thief had dashed around front on foot and was already talking to the woman! This person who allegedly spoke no English! You have got to be kidding me. Knowing I had lost the game, I stepped on it and drove around the block, pulling up directly behind her car. I watched her load all three items into the back of her massive Tahoe with tears in my eyes. I don't think I can properly put into words how much this hurt me. The angst! The heartache! The physical pain of losing! ARGH.

If I had just had the nerve to load the toys up on the first pass. Stupid me, doing the right thing. I mean, they were next to the trash! What did I think they were? Blast. Foiled again.

24 cents

That is all.

Addendum for Mindy's doubting husband:

All: $3.99 (sale)
Razors: $5.89
2 Revlon nailpolishes $4.59 (bogo free)
2 Maybelline mascaras: $ 4.79 (bogo free)
2 Crest Pro-health: $6.58
2 Energizer batteries: $11.38

Minus $27 in coupons.

Then realized they didn't give me my "extra bucks" back for the toothpaste I had bought, I went back in, they apologized and credited my card $6.98 and let me have them free, even though one of my coupons had been for buy one get one free. Mwah ah ah! This brought my total paid to $4.64.

Minus $4 "extra bucks" back to use next time from razor purchase.

Equals? 24 cents.

Mind Poo

*head hung in shame*

Here I am again. Plagued with guilt about not posting. I don't understand how fall gets to be so busy. It seems like every evening and weekend there is something going on and my poor blog gets shoved aside. You are already aware of my Facebook Scrabble habit that requires an immediate login at the computer. You probably know about my DVR situation. Last year, Piglet was new and I was somewhat housebound during TV premiere season. I somehow managed to acquire a great many new shows, which was fine and good when I had all those good hours in the middle of the night to watch, say, Sabrina the Teenage Witch. This year? Same shows, no time. I'm three weeks behind on most of my shows. It's tragic, I tell you. And? I'm feverishly reading my book for book club on Monday because I wrote down the wrong date for the meeting. Sigh.

Some highlights since we've spoken:

- After being around 90 degrees on Sunday, it turned winter Sunday night. We are now in the 60s.

- Piglet truly believes himself to be a monkey. He now speaks in "ooh ooh ah ah"

- I had another run in with American Airlines. I suspect there will be a letter forthcoming.

- The change in climate has caused my chin to rebel by launching its forces from the depths within and declaring mad angry war, its primary weapons being swelling and redness.

- As you may have witnessed, nothing in my cabinets is safe anymore. This requires great vigilance and no idle computering.

- I have been beleaguered by a barrage of phone calls from Eddie in a panic over her Halloween costume(s). She takes Halloween very seriously.

So there I am. Full of excuses and not a lot of essence. Sounds like it's about time to do amp's Brain Dump again. Thought Log. Mind Poo. I'll get right on that.

I'm in so much trouble.

What do I do now?

Prepare to Be Riveted

What have I been doing today? Well! Wouldn't you like to know? I happen to have had one of the most riveting mornings you can imagine, thankyouverymuch. First? It rained all night long. It thundered and lightninged. (Yes, verb.) Our rain gauge overflowed, so I'm not even sure how much it rained, but I do know two things:

1a. I didn't get much sleep because lightning freaks me out when it pops right outside my window arch and blinds me in the night.

1b. I also didn't get much sleep for the second night in a row, thanks to Piglet's cold which has infiltrated my immune system and plagued me with Dry Throat, a condition which requires me to sleep with a shirt on my face. More details later.

2. The "small retention pond" that the developers built all summer behind my yard is suddenly a massive lake. Lake Pigs, we'll call it. It reached, then overflowed its banks, waterfalling into the awaiting culvert, then flooding the wee creek which carries the water away. Summary: it was a whole mess of water. (Or "awah!" as Piglet is now calling it. Would make much more sense if I was teaching him Spanish, but this is not the case. End digression.)

I present to you.....Lake Pigs:

As though that wasn't enough, the party continued! After being pursued by Piglet all morning, Gus notices that the deluge of rain has ceased and bolts for the backdoor, escaping his pint-sized shadow. Piglet was jealous and gazed wistfully through the glass.

"It's not fair! Gus gets to go outside! Why am I stuck in here?" So, I took my cue, scooped him up, and made my way to CVS where they had to pay me 46 cents so that I could buy these items:

Cackle. I know you're jealous of my day 'o fun; I can feel your envy permeating my screen. I doubt you want this delightful little disease I've contracted, though. If anyone happens to have any home remedies for Wicked Dry Throat, I'd appreciate it. Symptoms include, but are not limited to, a prickly, burning dryness behind my nose. In my nasal passages, if you will. And dry eyes. And Piglet's using the humidifier, so don't say that. Oh, and the Wicked Dry Throat becomes further agitated when I lie down at night and the Nasty Mucus Lodging begins. Not a drip, no, no! A Lodging. Of a well-placed mass of.....well, you know. Boogers or something. And I cannot hock a loogey, so don't suggest that either. It would make me barf and I had a really good dinner that I cannot bear to see go to waste. So, get back to me on that, stat.

Overheard

Me: [in a hurry] Too bad you can't eat while you poop.

Mr. Pigs: I'm sure I've done it.

Me: What?! Ew!

Mr. Pigs: [shrugs]

Me: There's something fundamentally wrong with that. It's either input or output, not both. Ew.

Mr.Pigs: Time saver.

Me: But it would stink while you ate! It's like....[shudder]. You're sick.

Mr. Pigs: Weren't you in a hurry?

The Price is Right

(Or, as I always thought it was called, "The Prize is Right.") I would like to state for the record that my new hobby is getting things for free. Perhaps it's my lack of employment driving this new urge, perhaps is my inner cheapskate taking over. I don't know, but it is DARNED fun! I know I've described my cash register moment 'o glory before, but I've never provided actual examples of my loot. My booty. My take.

Today was Target day. I checked the weekly ad. I scanned my coupons. I went in for the kill. Zipping up and down the aisles, I scooped item after item into my cart. Here was the final take:

How much would you estimate the following?

2 family sized bottles Suave shampoo

1 jar Mott's applejuice

1 box Pampers Cruisers (108 count)

2 packages Pampers wipes (120 count)

1 Halloween greeting card

3 Johnson & Johnson soaps buddies bars

2 - 8 packs of Reece's Cups (full size)

1 Target brand Benadryl (100 count)

1 - 2 oz St. Ives lotion

1 travel size Dove beauty bar

1 (2 pack) Elmer's Super Glue

A strange combination, I realize, but a good take, nonetheless. I ask you, faithful readers, what would be a fair price for these goods? I realize that none of you are probably as into this as I am, but I have such smug satisfaction that I simply must share my mad skillz with you. Your much awaited answer will be revealed soon.

-Scrooge Pig

A Few Little Pigs

It was once noted on this blog that conversations between Mr. Pigs and myself remind people of something out of a TV show. A comedy, I hope they meant, not a drama. We seems to have our most fascinating conversations right before bed. A sample, from the other night:

Me: [stressing over amount of recorded shows to watch] I have a few too many shows to watch.

Mr. Pigs: A few?? Try a ton.

Me: You can't measure TV shows in tons. That's a weight.

Mr. Pigs: Well, it's not a few.

Me: Maybe not. A few is three.

Mr. Pigs: No it's not. A few is a handful. Like several.

Me: Several is also three.

Mr. Pigs: No, it can't be three or you'd say three.

Me: A couple is two.

Mr. Pigs: Agreed.

Me: A few is three.

Mr. Pigs: Maybe.

Me: And several is three too.

Mr. Pigs: I don't think so.

Etc, etc, etc. Any thoughts? It was a very serious conversation that I feel needs a conclusion. I think that a few has to be more that one, obviously, and I don't think it's two because that's a couple. Perhaps three to five. No more than five could be a few. But really even five would be relative to how many people/objects you're talking about. Like out of ten, five wouldn't be a few, it'd be half. But out of twenty, maybe five is a few. But I still feel like several should be three. That's all I have to say about that.

Mental

My frugality is out of control. It has crossed a line. I'm not sure what exactly to call the line I've crossed, but I have to tell you that I have begun to dream about coupons. Just once or twice, but it's on my mind the way my job used to be. I'm not only robbing Kroger blind, it's extended to Walgreen's. And Target. And perhaps CVS. There's just so much free stuff out there and it's so satisfying to get it! I must have it! I'm afraid that I might need a psychological consultation. Perhaps a doctor's visit is in order.

Dr: What seems to be the problem, Pigs?

Me: I can't stop looking for free things.

Dr: Are you hurting anyone with this quest?

Me: Just my wrist. Carpal tunnel coupon cutting, you know.

Dr: I think you'll be just fine, Pigs.

Oh, whew! Looks like it's going to be okay after all. Say, did I tell you about the $110 I made in the last month just switching prescriptions from store to store? Mwah ah ah ah!!!

I have a blog?

Oh, blog. Where have I been? I'm not really sure. I feel like I've been running around like a chicken with its head cut off for about two weeks now. Somewhere between my obsessive coupon savings and two sets of grandparents arriving to spoil one Piglet and two birthday parties and a flurry of fall shopping and tennis and book club and one year pictures and checkup and a bridal shower to boot, my blog got lost. I misplaced my blog. A concerned comment from Reader Mindy yesterday jogged my memory, and I tried to shake off the cobwebs and get something down.

I was reading over at AMP's that to seek your creative....um, -ness, you should write three full pages every morning as a sort of brain dump. I'm pretty sure I'd get at least half a page out of giggling over the phrase "brain dump", but after that I think it might help clear up my head. My head right now is so full of things I need to do or stuff I'm wondering about that I am struggling to come up with anything of remote interest to write about. Though this completely defeats the purpose of a brain dump, which is to clear your head so that you can write about something good, I'm going to do a practice brain dump right here and now for your reading pleasure.

Pigs' Brain Dump:

First of all, it just occurred to me that my blog actually is a brain dump. I should really just change the title to "Brain Dump" and remove any notions of quality that could be accidentally inferred. When I think of a brain dump, I have this image of a bulldozer/diggie machine scooping poop out of my brain. Not that I have poop in my brain, it's just an image, but I can't help what I see. This paragraph is kind of like a piece of brain poop. A thought log, if you will.

Why do people say "if you will"? If you will what? If you will partake of my thought log? "Not a log in the sense that you think I have a log..." Betcha can't name that quote. Well, Eddie can, so she's disqualified. Someone else then. Anyone, anyone. Bueller? I love the movie When Harry Met Sally. I could watch it every day and find something new to laugh at. I remember that it must have been a summer movie because it came out when I was at the beach one year. I wasn't allowed to see it because it was rated R. Well, that and who sees movies at the beach? You're there to be beaching, not movieing. Speaking of movie ratings, I remember when PG-13 came about. I was in sixth grade and two of the first movies to be rated PG-13 were Dirty Dancing and Gremlins. I wasn't allowed to see either of them, as I was only 12. Because this is a huge difference that my parents wished to emphasize. So my friends told me all about both movies. I was bitter. Still might be a little bit.

Time for a new thought log. I have a lot to do. I'm going to be teaching writing at my old school again like I did last year. I'm fairly certain the principal still despises me, but admires my teaching abilities because she reluctantly keeps hiring me back. I suspect it vexes her that she can't make me attend faculty meetings or participate in her inane little games. That's half the joy of this gig. It doesn't start until November, so I need to kind of put it out of my mind for a while. DUMP! Whew. That feels better already.

I have a load of thank you notes to write to the kind people who gave Piglet fun toys for his birthday. I've taken great care to buy toys without batteries that are quiet. I guess that's why a kid has to have family and friends - to buy him all the loud "fun" stuff that I avoid. Which reminds me that Christmas is coming up. It stresses me out to think of Christmas. I'm already jotting down ideas for people and trying to get a few things knocked out. Is it so wrong if I don't get Piglet much for Christmas? He'll be 15 months old and we won't even be at home. Will he really know? Really? I don't think so. We'll worry about Santa Claus next year.

I've dumped a whole lotta brain here. I hope this long post makes up for my ten day vacay I unintentionally took from my blog. Am I at three pages yet? I used to make my students do this before we started writing for real. This is the part when they would start whining....my hand hurts! I can't think of anything else! My pencil broke! Wah, wah, wah....

The crying sound reminds me of last week when I took Piglet to have his one year old pictures made. He was pretty happy until the picture folks sat him up on a block and he fell off onto his face. That made him very sad. And it made the manager very nervous. He kept flitting around me offering to pay for a doctor visit if I decided to take him. I had flashbacks to the night of the falling sink. In case you're interested, the two year mark of that event was September 25, Piglet's birthday. The lawyer occasionally communicates with me regarding my alleged case, but as far as I can tell, nothing is really happening with it. I would just like to go visit Eddie at some point, so it would be nice if my trial would commence. I wonder how many pages this would be if I had handwritten it, as AMP instructed.

I am continually interrupted by the urge to play Scrabble on Facebook. I admit, it's a nerdy obsession that I have enjoyed of late. I'm not even good at Scrabble, but for some reason it's enjoyable to play online against people I know. And one person from the blog world who I don't technically know, but it seems like I do. You know how that goes. You probably feel like you know me quite well, which is kind of freaky. What's really freaky is when you find out people you do know read your blog and you didn't know it. I mean, what if you said something about them? I tend to have mild issues with talking about people, so this is a risky game. A risky, risky game. (Hi, Lindsey's mom!)

I must tell you, my brain feels quite liberated. Freed. As though it has been expunged. Evacuated. My brain totally pooped. Maybe now I can start fresh with something coherent next time I post. I promise not to wait for two more weeks. Here, I end my first brain dump.

It seems that I am being summoned to watch our Thursday night television, specifically The Office, so I better sign off now. I hope that I have mended any broken fences and redeemed myself in terms of posting. I will try to do better.