Shopping and me
I hate to shop.
There. I've said it. I've outed myself.
I should state there are 3 exceptions to this-- farmer's markets, Williams-Sonoma and book stores.
If you're a good friend you already know this about me. If you're a good friend and don't know this about me, well, I was just being polite when you drug me around shop after shop after shop.
I HATE SHOPPING.
Passionately. Vehemently.
Malls make me want to run screaming.
And it's not because I got fat and hate to shop for clothes. I hated shopping for clothes when I was a size 8. I loved when I found that I could order everything from catalogues in college. And then Amazon... oh, sweet Amazon. What a great service.
But holy cow, mindless wandering makes me nuts.
I am a buyer. I make lists. I buy the things on the list. I then leave the store.
This really came into play this weekend.
My husband and I spent a romantic weekend in Santa Fe, NM. I had a business trip and we dove tailed it into a long weekend to celebrate our 10th anniversary. I'd been there once, on a quick trip. Everyone said how great it was.
It is a very cool city. Tons of history. Lots of restaurants.
And an insane amount of shops.
Specifically jewelry shops.
Which would be a great thing if you liked to shop and liked jewelry.
Two things I don't understand.
When we asked the concierge what to do, "Oh shopping! You'll love it."
No, no, I will not.
I tried. Honestly. I did. But I couldn't keep a straight face. I tend to mock people who shop.
After a half day of faking it, I 'fessed up to my husband. I was having a miserable time shopping. He said he thought I was shaming my X chromosome. The good news, he's not really a shopper either.
I just don't get it-- wondering around looking at stuff that I don't want or need? Why? I'm not a knickknacky gal. Why on earth would I buy a dreamcatcher? Ever?
So I guess this means I am an embarrassment to not only my gender, but my country as well. If you really want to see my freak out, take me to a Super Wal-Mart. I nearly get hives.
The good news, if I ever doubted that my husband was my soul mate, I have no doubt whatsoever now. Today, sensing that I couldn't look at another piece of turquoise or chotchky, he found something I would really love-- The Museum of Nuclear Science and History. And yes, he loved it, too.
Rather than try to be normal and get all excited about a designer geode on a mirrored display (I prefer to find geodes in the desert, not a gift shop), we got our geek on and went to the museum.
Ahhhh.... now that was fun.
In fact, I even bought a t-shirt that said "Talk Nerdy to Me"-- a secret clearly my husband already knows.
There. I've said it. I've outed myself.
I should state there are 3 exceptions to this-- farmer's markets, Williams-Sonoma and book stores.
If you're a good friend you already know this about me. If you're a good friend and don't know this about me, well, I was just being polite when you drug me around shop after shop after shop.
I HATE SHOPPING.
Passionately. Vehemently.
Malls make me want to run screaming.
And it's not because I got fat and hate to shop for clothes. I hated shopping for clothes when I was a size 8. I loved when I found that I could order everything from catalogues in college. And then Amazon... oh, sweet Amazon. What a great service.
But holy cow, mindless wandering makes me nuts.
I am a buyer. I make lists. I buy the things on the list. I then leave the store.
This really came into play this weekend.
My husband and I spent a romantic weekend in Santa Fe, NM. I had a business trip and we dove tailed it into a long weekend to celebrate our 10th anniversary. I'd been there once, on a quick trip. Everyone said how great it was.
It is a very cool city. Tons of history. Lots of restaurants.
And an insane amount of shops.
Specifically jewelry shops.
Which would be a great thing if you liked to shop and liked jewelry.
Two things I don't understand.
When we asked the concierge what to do, "Oh shopping! You'll love it."
No, no, I will not.
I tried. Honestly. I did. But I couldn't keep a straight face. I tend to mock people who shop.
After a half day of faking it, I 'fessed up to my husband. I was having a miserable time shopping. He said he thought I was shaming my X chromosome. The good news, he's not really a shopper either.
I just don't get it-- wondering around looking at stuff that I don't want or need? Why? I'm not a knickknacky gal. Why on earth would I buy a dreamcatcher? Ever?
So I guess this means I am an embarrassment to not only my gender, but my country as well. If you really want to see my freak out, take me to a Super Wal-Mart. I nearly get hives.
The good news, if I ever doubted that my husband was my soul mate, I have no doubt whatsoever now. Today, sensing that I couldn't look at another piece of turquoise or chotchky, he found something I would really love-- The Museum of Nuclear Science and History. And yes, he loved it, too.
Rather than try to be normal and get all excited about a designer geode on a mirrored display (I prefer to find geodes in the desert, not a gift shop), we got our geek on and went to the museum.
Ahhhh.... now that was fun.
In fact, I even bought a t-shirt that said "Talk Nerdy to Me"-- a secret clearly my husband already knows.
Comments