I shouldn't be allowed access to Amazon.ca or Amazon.com. The latter, especially, because it has far more of the things I want, comes with the temptation of them getting here faster, and is so, so hellishly expensive.
But what do I do? I use a promotional code my mother was sent (in thanks for her christmas spending, I think) to get $25 off on "Krazy Kat: The Art of George Herriman", and "Moominvalley in November" (which I've never found in a bookstore, ever, and I've looked). So the balance is $13 cdn I otherwise wouldn't have spent tonight. Fine. Next, I do my usual mindless trolling of the Amazon.ca marketplace sellers, looking for a copy of "Zelda: Oracle of Seasons" that will ship to Canada. And find one. Mint. I don't need mint, of course, I need acceptable, cartridge only, label with some wear. That sort of thing. I buy it. Now my night's total is $60 cdn. Whose fault is it? My mother's, for sending me the promotional code. And for raising me with no concept of financial restraint.
Yet, oooh, packages! Right?
Why has this blog become a list of the things I buy? I'm actually doing a lot these days. For me. With the part-time work, and the classes and the pilates (I'm back at the pilates, if I haven't mentioned it), and the Marc and the dog and the nernies. But I post about, um, Resident Evil 4. And shopping.
Uh. So, Resident Evil 4? It's gotten suddenly very hard. I seem to attempt every new area (room, hallway, set of stairs) about ten times before getting past it with enough health and ammo to conceivably finish the game. So I think, if I can stand to keep playing it, it'll last a good while. Aren't you glad? I can write about it for months! So why am I buying more games?! What is this hole I am trying to fill?! Please comment and tell me. Thanks.
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5 comments:
Packages! Big, happy packages waiting on your doorstep upon returning home from a crappy day is The definition of Happiness. Really, it is worth the few extra dollars.
When I was little I saw a Raggedy Anne cartoon in which the antagonist was a giant sea of taffy, speckled heavily with candy. He rolled around and ate the candy and himself and said over and over, "never get enough."
Er, I am not implying you are a gluttonous sea of candy. But I think we all know that mentality. Like when one's mouth is full of chocolate, yet one's mind is already scheming how to get more or lamenting that this is the last piece.
Good God. That wasn't helpful at all. Oh come on. Think of a better ending. We, like Taffy, have everything we need to make us happy, but choose to believe that those little somethings outside of ourselves (videogames/relationships/fluvog boots that we must have precious) will aid us in our quest for happiness.
Om.
Never mind the Buddhists. Continue to buy things. I can buy things vicariously through you.
(Kimi is always right. I am the devil on your shoulder. She, obviously, is the angel.)
Do tell about the Pilates, though. I am so interested in the Pilates. When I was at the gym there was a girl doing pilates and it was so impressive. I came home and tried to ape her movements in private. Do not try to imagine this. Poise and grace, I have neither.
I am so that giant sea of taffy.
Being somebody who can't sleep and therefore crawls into her computer chair at 3:00am and blearily buys something (yes, this occured but moments ago), I can happily relate. The thing is, in my case I really can't buy anything or I won't be able to pay rent, and then I will be kicked out of my apartment. This is my ever present angst, and yet can I stop? No, no I cannot. Because I want candy, bubblegum and taffy!
What did you buy, you crazy?
I bought, dear god I am so lame, tank tops. They were cheap (relatively)! And simple! And I needed them! Need them I mean. Need them. Arg.
Claire buys things that enhance her intelligence and culturedness (yes, even Resident Evil 4 does this, and I am happy to provide evidence upon demand). For this reason she deserves our respect and love (which she has anyway, little nernie that she is).
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