You forgot the cinnamon.

So I've been shopping all weekend. I probably started around 7:30 a.m. on Thanksgiving Day when a few stores like Kmart opened to prove that Americans will work any damn time the boss tells us. And then I finished buying crap around 3:00 p.m. today.

My worst example of shopping addiction was on Thanksgiving night at midnight when I was trying to get Black Friday bargains online. At 12:01 a.m. I was on the computer hitting "refresh" to see if some deals that previously were unavailable would suddenly appear and be ready for me to purchase.

If you know what Black Friday is, then you know that many stores opened for business at 5:00 a.m. Friday morning and the online bargains were not active until then. But at 4:30, I got up and clicked "refresh" again to find that something I wanted was now ready. So I sent my credit card info to the store and probably to several hackers and bought crap I really don't need.

I don't give to charities and I don't support any political movement or public television or radio, but I support America by moving money from my credit card company to a large department store so the store can afford to employ additional seasonal workers who send my packages through a shipping company which employs more people to eventually arrive at my house. It's no cure for cancer, but... no, there is no but. I'm a selfish bastard.

So I was in a mall today when I passed a window displaying books. The sign said that this particular book was being sold by Gucci to raise money for something, blah, blah, blah: I don't know because I didn't read it. I just saw that it looked like a children's book and it looked pretty cool.

So I walked over to the Gucci store; doesn't every mall have one? And no, not that chick who sells fake Gucci bags in the ladies room at your library, a real store. And I asked about the book, Snowman in Africa. The saleswoman said it was $25 and all the money went to charity, and again, I didn't listen to which one. But I said, I'll take it.

You should see this book. I'm not a book critic, but it's about a snowman who doesn't melt and doeesn't like cold weather so he goes to Africa in a balloon and hangs out with the animals ... so I'll just point out the cool stuff I noticed. One, there is no barcode, and no ISBN. So for a librarian, this is just freaky. It's like meeting someone who doesn't have fingerprints. You start to wonder if he's ever murdered anyone. Maybe this book is in the witness relocation program.

And the book jacket is illustrated on the inside, too. And the endpapers look cool. I don't have the book in front of me, but they're covered with art, too, bananas or elephants or something.

So anyway, I buy the book, and the woman asks if I want it wrapped. And I think for a second that it's not a gift, so I almost said, no, but then I nodded to her and said, sure.

She disappears for about 4 minutes. It was like that scene in Love, Actually where Rowan Atkinson is gift-wrapping the necklace. Except I couldn't see what she was doing. She returned with a large bronze Gucci bag and hands me the receipt tucked into a matching Gucci envelope. Inside the bag is a large Gucci envelope containing the book with a ribbon going round and tied in a bow, and a gold sticker sealing it closed. There is crumpled brown paper filling the area around the envelope.

I couldn't take it. I had to see what she did. So as soon as I got home, I pulled out the envelope and untied the ribbon and removed the sticker. Inside was the book wrapped in more paper and sealed with another sticker. Inside that was an envelope with a card describing the charity and providing some info about the author of the book.

It was just amazing to see. So if you have the opportunity and the $25, stop into a Gucci shop and get the book. And make sure you say "yes" if they ask if you want it wrapped. The book also seems to be available online, and I'm tempted to buy another one to see how it arrives. I swear, it made me feel so giddy to get something wrapped with so much care, I just want to go buy copies and hand them out to strangers. I'm so used to being treated like shit, it's worth the $25 to have someone be nice to me. How the hell will I ever be able to shop at a regular store again?

And the next time I buy stuff online, I'll probably have to light a scented candle and wear pants. Not like now.


Snowman in Africa animation, but remember the pictures in the book don't move:


Alan Rickman tormented by Rowan Atkinson:

The First Christmas.

My family can't wait for midnight. They have a plan for Black Friday shopping tonight that includes hitting Toys'R'Us then eating a 2 a.m. breakfast and continuing the shopping when more stores open at 3 or 4 o'clock.

The hunter-gatherer instinct that's evolved into shopping for crap takes over each family member. And they drive around buying things that they don't yet know what they will be: whatever looks good on 4 hours of sleep and a belly-full of pancakes.

So they will race around in a carb-loaded stupor and cheer at each item they get into their carts. And when they get home, they will unload their treasures and collapse into exhaustion, sated for another year. The gifts, oh, the gifts.

And no one seems to acknowledge the real truth: Hey, dummy, those aren't gifts; you paid for that crap.

But it's okay; it's Christmas, Part One.

How to save money by unshopping.

I love shopping. I don't buy very much, but I love shopping. I was in a jewelry store a few weeks ago looking at a $6,000 diamond necklace that was marked down to $3,500. I held it in my hands and told the sales person how much I wanted to buy it as a gift for someone. She believed me and treated me like someone with $3,500 to spend on a necklace. But I didn't buy it. Surprise.

When I go to department stores, I pick up whatever I want and put it in my cart. I wheel the items around the store and then I put some of them back were I found them. Sometimes I don't buy anything, but I'll carry something with me for twenty minutes until I put it back.

I do this all the time. I also put tons of stuff in my online carts that I just abandon. Amazon hates me.

I do this because I need to feel that sense of ownership, of possession. I don't need all the things I want to buy, so I have to trick myself into feeling like I own them which allows me let them go. Just like when I actually buy stuff. I put the underwear in the drawer, or I put the CDs on the shelf. This way, I own this stuff for a little while. I don't buy it and return it because I used to work in retail and I know how much it sucks to get returns after you thought your store was doing really well. So I don't buy these things; I just look at them and think about them, and that's enough.

I guess if I were crazy, I could put the things back on the store shelf but watch them to guard them from others, so if someone approached my stuff and tried to put it in her cart, I would pounce from around the corner shouting, "Mine! Mine!" Which would be hilarious. If I ever do go crazy, I hope it's that kind of crazy and not the kind I see in the library, all urine-soaked and filthy.

I don't know how this would work when unshopping for a gift; do you show the birthday boy a picture and say, "Here, I unbought this for you"?

So this is how I shop without shopping. It saves me money. And it doesn't seem to bother anyone at the stores as long as I don't do it with the ice cream.

How Oprah will kill me.

It's a tiny thing, but it could mean certain death.

Oprah has an online store which sells "her favorite things" and other useless crap like the O logo Brushed Twill Baseball Cap or the O logo Workout Ankle Socks, so you can get dressed, look in the mirror and say, "O crap, I don't feel like going to the gym today."

But the thing she has that will kill me is the hand-crafted Zulu telephone wire mini-bowl (seen below).

Isn't that awesome? And it's only $17. Sure, it's small, but I like bowls. So I need to buy some. And this is how Oprah will kill me.

If you read the tiny print, it warns: Prop 65 Warning: This product contains Chemicals, including lead known to the state of California to (cause cancer) and birth defects or other reproductive harm. Wash Hands after handling.

WTF??? Oprah sells products that she knows will cause cancer? And reproductive harm? It's a small bowl, so I wasn't even considering storing my reproductive parts in it.

I don't know why she wants to kill me; we have so much in common, being loved by millions of people, for one thing.

And Oprah says, "For twenty years, I've been saying, we need to be able to give people a place where they can get a key chain, a T-shirt or a mug, or something."

So like Oprah, the.effing.librarian says, buy a freaking coffee mug, already.


I have a warehouse full of this crap (not, I think CafePress beats a child to make the mug each time you order one... wait, did I say, "beats a child"? no, never. submits an order to a highly-paid, satisfied adult worker, who is only rarely beaten, only usually around Christmas because the lashes keep him warm).

So, wish me well. I'm torn between supporting the whole African bowl-making economy, and not spawning a 30-fingered baby. Oh, well, it's for Oprah, and the extra twenty fingers might just make the kid a faster typist.

A dwelling fit for a librarian.

Houses are back down to 2001 prices which is really great because I currently make a 1999 salary; so owning a home is only slightly out of my reach.

All summer there have been "short sale" properties to consider. A short sale is when the owner stops paying their mortgage and then tells the bank they will try to sell the house for less money than the mortgage is worth. This gets back some money for the property prior to the bank foreclosing and paying all the legal fees involved with that process.

But the bank needs to approve prices. Some short sales are forty percent cheaper than comparable properties, so the bank evaluates the present loss against the future foreclosure loss.

I don't know how banks calculate their losses, what calendar they use, so short sales might be plentiful in the summer, but dry up in fall. Maybe they can write off the debt or get a tax break.

Which brings me to the latest property I tried to buy. Even though prices continue to drop, the bank turned down my offer and increased the asking price! They decided to go forward into the foreclosure process.

My only guess is that the government bail-out has created new financial incentives for banks to increase their holdings of bad debt. Maybe they get more money if they hold more foreclosures. Otherwise, I can't understand why a bank wouldn't want to sell a property as quickly as possible.

But that's why I'm a bad shopper. Some people know when to buy a car so they can negotiate the lowest price, but I buy one because it's purple.

Anyway, I'm still looking for a house. Or a refrigerator box, whatever a librarian can afford.