i think i'm addicted to spending money.


sorabji.com: I need advice: i think i'm addicted to spending money.
THIS IS A READ-ONLY ARCHIVE FROM THE SORABJI.COM MESSAGE BOARDS (1995-2016).

By pez on Friday, February 23, 2001 - 11:07 am:

    college student. low-paying job. debit card.

    to save money on gas, i stay in town in between class and work. i buy food and books and poke around in shops until it's time for my shift.

    i buy when i'm bored.

    i buy when i'm hungry.

    i buy for emptiness, for self-gratification, for guilt, for sadness, for completion. my debit card has the visa sign on it, so i can go anywhere and spend.

    i tell myself that this week i'll make my lunch/eat brekkast at home/do my homework but i always end up buying things.

    maybe it's because i haven't even been working for a year, maybe because i feel more independent, but it's draining my savings. i need to pay for books/tuition next term and i want to go to europe in a year and a half. in order to have a decent amount of funds, i need to save at least $50 a week, preferably $75 or $100 if possible, even if i get financial aid and stay with my norweigian/danish relatives for a while.

    since starting my zine idea, i've been buying markers, pens, copies. the other day i went into office depot and spent umpteeump on office supplies. next week i want to go back and buy a fancy stapler. a stapler! for my zine that i haven't worked on in days because i've been shopping all the time.

    it might sound silly, but my spending habits are threatening my dreams. the buzz i get from handing over my card is real, but needs to come to an end.


By semillama on Friday, February 23, 2001 - 11:59 am:

    Under no circumstances should you get a credit card. Take it from me. Every time you think you can really start making a dent in your debt, something comes up that piles a bunch more on (i.e., moving).


By patrick on Friday, February 23, 2001 - 12:11 pm:

    he says good things pez. I know the credit vultures are swarming around college campuses, god knows they were mine but wait until at least after college to get swallowed by the credit card companies


By pez on Friday, February 23, 2001 - 01:38 pm:

    it's not a credit card, exactly. it's my debit card, and they put a visa symbol on it so i can use it everywhere. which is my problem.

    i've received credit card applications in the mail "for only $49, we'll set you up with a $500 limit credit card!" no way, i'm not that stupid. what i want to do is to stop spending 99% of my weekly paycheck and save more.

    i want to set up a saving plan because there is so much to save for: a new flute, a trip to europe (there is no way that i'd let my parents pay), and i want to move out sometime in the forseeable future.

    i'm thinking that i'll take some time to set some goals, and create a savings plan so i can reach it. but it's hard. it's so hard because i don't want to go home and i have hours to stay in town. i try to spend lots of time at the library but after a while you want to get out and scream because the place is so quiet. so i go to the stores.

    i know i have the strength in me somewhere, because i tell myself that i'll get larger purchases later, ie jeans "i'll put this back and find it again in two days". my excuse for not buying shoes is that we don't have a size that fits and feels comfortable.

    but it doesn't work that way for cosmetics, books, birthday presents.

    i started my sister's b-day present almost a month ago. i bought a book she'd been wanting. then a bookmark. lip gloss. then a cardboard trunk to put it in. a picture frame for a picture i have of her cat. the list goes on.

    fuck, i overindulge.


By Gee on Monday, March 12, 2001 - 03:38 pm:

    if I have the money available to me, I spend it without even realizing how much I'm spending. If I don't have the money at the ready, I make it just fine. I have exactly twenty bucks to last me the rest of this week, and I know I can do it just fine.

    So I decided to buy a piggy bank. the kind that you can't get your money out of unless you actually break the pig. That will be a much more effective methiod of keeping the money away from me than just leaving it in the bank. ATM's are too easy to use. Smashing a pig is forever.

    should I take 50 out of every paycheque or 100?


By cyst on Monday, March 12, 2001 - 04:17 pm:

    I would freak out about how much I've spent on restaurant food in the last few days if my stomach wasn't so upset.

    since when do meals out cost $50 each?

    I've got to drop all my rich friends. it seems like they divide their free time equally between fancy restaurants and yoga class.

    friday night it was dinner at a mexican restaurant that brings you candied nuts for free but charges you $7 for chips and salsa.

    saturday night it was dinner at an italian place where a side salad (with hazelnut-encrusted goat cheese) ran $9.95 and the cheapest bottle of wine was $35. the crappy, stringy, gristly t-bone (the only one left; one of us had to change orders) was $20. and at the end of that totally disappointing meal, the guy in charge (who donated a $150 gift certificate) decided we'd each pay $45 (which made a 21% tip).

    $45 for a crappy, heavily subsidized meal? my friends (and I) are such fucking gluttons. with all the nice bread and olive oil we ate, why did we need to get $10 salads AND raw beef ("carpaccio"?) AND scallops AND mussels as appetizers?

    why did we have to have THREE waiters? we did they order san pellegrino when seattle gets its tap water from mountain springs?

    $7 for shot glasses of grappa? they'd run out of their good desserts but everyone else just ordered whatever was left.

    fuck this splitting the bill equally thing. I always get screwed then feel sick. fuck, man, I'd have rather gone out for pizza and beer.


By patrick on Monday, March 12, 2001 - 05:17 pm:

    i hate that feeling.


By The Watcher on Tuesday, March 13, 2001 - 02:32 pm:

    I never go out any more.

    My wife cann't.

    And, I haven't wanted to since the health police took over. And pretty much banned smoking in resturants.

    I hate the PC.


By Div on Tuesday, March 13, 2001 - 06:25 pm:

    I've sat down in a restaurant, looked at the menu, and decided there isnt anything I want. I have no hesitation about leaving a tip on the table for the water the waitperson brought, and walking out without eating. If I can go into a department store and leave without buying anything, why shouldn't I have that same freedom in food places?


By patrick on Tuesday, March 13, 2001 - 06:46 pm:

    cause maybe they tied you down...threatened to ruin your social status with lies, tempted hungry rabid monkeys with your hair, stole your car and "parked" it in the bay......










    i hate it when that happens


By Div on Wednesday, March 14, 2001 - 06:18 am:

    They did all that, and still I resisted. I will NOT eat soggy salads and badly presented linguini simply because I took a seat. Let them lie, since I have no social status left, let them shave my last 14 hairs, I will take cabs from now on, but I REFUSE to pander to the egos of simpering chefs.


By mister fritz on Wednesday, March 14, 2001 - 11:24 am:

    wow......you're kinda cute


By Rhiannon on Wednesday, March 14, 2001 - 11:47 am:

    Hey, I was going to say the same thing!


By J on Wednesday, March 14, 2001 - 01:16 pm:

    Nothing pisses me off more than paying good money for bad food and poor service.We took my mother out for dinner at the Black Angus in Tempe a few weeks ago,I've always had bad service there and didn't want to go,but it was her B-day and thats where she wanted to go.We were seated and the waiter came by and took our order and brought us our drinks,then introduced us to our new server as he was clocking out,we ordered more drinks at that time.We sat there forever before she brought our food.They had some speacial where desert came with my order,I had to ask for my soup(wich she should have brought before the dinner) and my prime rib was nothing but fat,but it was the bread that made me snap we had to ask for the bread too and when she brought it,it was as hard as a rock.My husband told her to get the manager,and he was pretty worked up by then,but he was nice about it.He asked the manager would he eat that bread? Would he eat that grizzle? The manager said he was sorry and everything was on the house,but I'll never go there again.To make matters worse,my mother took forever to decide what she wanted,and was complaining that they didn't have any clams or muscles,in my entire life,I have never seen her eat them,and I could't figure out why on earth she would pick Black Angus if she wanted seafood and they never brought my desert either.


By patrick on Wednesday, March 14, 2001 - 01:33 pm:

    well thats what you can expect from a corporate, cookie cutter "steak" houses We ate there once with my mother in-law who was in town. it was located across from their hotel and it was that or Marie Callendars.

    they wanted steak and i tried to convince them to let me drive them into our hood (from Burbank) to get some kick ass carne asada at one of the mexican joints, but to no avail.


    So we went, it was OK, as I recall...but my expectations in places like that are never high anyway.


By blindswine on Wednesday, March 14, 2001 - 04:59 pm:


By Div on Wednesday, March 14, 2001 - 05:42 pm:

    absolutely right. What is it you expect at a chain restaurant?
    Everything is either prepackaged or pre-prepared, and nothing is to go to waste. There are people who feel intimidated bat the thought of complaining, or think because it's cheap and plentiful that its too much to expect it to be good too.
    Gimme a break here. In spite of the fact that we pay, we are their GUESTS. When they open their doors, they have invited us in, and we have options there as we do in any service business. Use em. Let em know you're mad as hell, and you're not gonna eat there anymore


By Div on Wednesday, March 14, 2001 - 05:43 pm:

    oh yeah, and lay off the meat, people, or you're gonna die.


By Cat on Wednesday, March 14, 2001 - 05:45 pm:

    Meat is good.

    Man meat is better.


By Div on Wednesday, March 14, 2001 - 05:58 pm:

    i'll debate you on that.


By The Watcher on Wednesday, March 14, 2001 - 06:11 pm:

    Service with a smile has disappeared from every business.

    I'm never satisfied weather I stopped at a resturant for take out or I'm at the supermarket, or any other place of business.

    I'm made to feel it's an imposition on their part or they are doing me some great favor just taking my money.


By patrick on Wednesday, March 14, 2001 - 06:43 pm:

    i say "thanks" to my bus driver.

    mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm man meat


By Div on Wednesday, March 14, 2001 - 06:45 pm:

    How bout we make the first move and smile at the people who work in those places?

    Probably the hardest thing to do is grit your teeth and not respond in kind to some surly salesperson or stock clerk, but boy, is it ever good for the ego to think you've taken the high road, when you'd much rather punch their lights out with a stale hard roll.


By patrick on Wednesday, March 14, 2001 - 07:53 pm:


    how bout you get in the kitchen and and and and

    KNIT ME A SWEATER!!!!!!!!!



    luv waffles








By Div on Wednesday, March 14, 2001 - 08:16 pm:

    how bout if you get your lazy ass outta that chair and get a &^%$# job!!!!


    love ya


By agatha on Wednesday, March 14, 2001 - 08:38 pm:

    i went to the olive garden the other day for a work function. it was surprisingly good, and our waitress was really nice and very attentive. i was shocked and amazed.


By J on Thursday, March 15, 2001 - 09:30 am:

    Bad service,this is why I love my man.We were painting our rental house and ran out of paint,ran up to Home Depote,it was a HALF HOUR before the store closed.He had a 5 gallon bucket of paint (with the top off),and he went up to the counter and asked the guy to mix it,the guy said he had already cleaned the machine and he was planning on getting out early that night and we would have to come back tomorrow.My husband then "accidently dropped" the paint can and paint was all over the floor and the counter,he told the guy that it looked like he wouldn't be getting out of there early after all,you should have seen the look on the home depote guy's face,and then we left.


By patrick on Thursday, March 15, 2001 - 11:33 am:

    j, hon, i hate to tell you but pizza breath was an ass to that Home Depot lacky in that instance.

    if i leave my work early, for whatever reason, be it to meet my pot dealer, take the wife out, go to the dentist or pick up my car at the shop before the shop closes before the weekend...i'd like to think one of my clients wouldn't shit on my desk in protest.


By patrick on Thursday, March 15, 2001 - 11:39 am:

    yeah...i would have charged you for the bucket of paint and kicked you out. but unfortunately, those large corp chain business have to kiss ass.


By J on Thursday, March 15, 2001 - 01:55 pm:

    It wasn't pizza breath it was my husband,he knew he was being an asshole and he was proud that he did it,he's good like that.


By patrick on Thursday, March 15, 2001 - 02:02 pm:

    oh i see i thought the two were the same.


By J on Thursday, March 15, 2001 - 03:24 pm:

    I can see how you'd be confused,my s/o CAN be an asshole,pizza breath IS an asshole.My s/o has balls though,he has a service to mankind award for saving someones life.


By Div on Thursday, March 15, 2001 - 05:36 pm:

    Again, I say take the high road. Report the guy, write a letter to the home office, state your case to the store manager, or ask for someone else to assist you. Ain't the day-to-day stuff crappy enough for the guy making $6 an hour without you sending him home late in a bad mood?


By J on Thursday, March 15, 2001 - 06:01 pm:

    It wasn't me or my idea,in fact I was mortified at the time,but I guess that's why I like him,he does the things that I think about but don't have the nerve to do. But I guess you'd just have to had been there,the guy really did have an attitude even before he ask him to mix the paint.


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