Confessions Of A Splenda Stealer

What the hell. It’s all too perfect how I was thinking about a potential post about the unexpected, SOL moments in life that leave us in the red, both in the face and in our checking accounts. As much as we can budget, there are always random moments of bad luck, or karma (I hope it’s just bad luck) when we have to pause and either laugh or cry as we pay again through the nose.

Today, I cried. Upon walking from Port Authority this morning, it seemed like a good morning. I woke up pretty much on time, picked out a shirt and pants with coordinating colors pretty quickly–hell, even my lunch was already made from the day before. I get on the bus and find my friend and so we chat it up as it took a brief 15 minutes to get through the tunnel. Perfect. A little too perfect, you may say.

About three minutes after crossing onto 40th Street and 8th Ave., disaster strikes. As I am bopping it out to either Elvis Costello or some random dance mix thanks to iPod’s ability to shuffle its library, I walk off the curb to get around some guy who is walking like a turtle with his stupid wheely briefcase behind him. Maybe it was bad karma due to my sidewalk rage, but as I stepped off the curb to pass, my finger got caught in my headphone wire, propelling my headphones out of my ears, my little green nano out of my unzipped tote, and flew about 10 feet ahead of me—into a puddle. Yes, one of those puddles where you can’t even see the bottom, due to random floating coffee lids and other murky, mysterious ingredients that you can no doubt spell with an “s” a “t” and a “d.” Kill me.

It was a three pointer shot. The odds of it landing into that puddle were phenomenal. It was the only puddle within twenty feet of where I was walking. Horror stricken at the thought of a) losing another iPod to water damage (I lost one back in February due to a leaking water bottle in my gym bag) b) losing another couple hundred bucks c) it’s a deadline crunch day for me when I NEED TO LISTEN TO MY OWN MUSIC AND NOW I CAN’T all flashed in and out of my head within three seconds. Before I knew it, adrenaline forced me to pluck my baby out of the abyss. I ran to the first cafe I could find, grabbing about 50 napkins to wipe it down and shake it out. It was still working at the time, but from my last experience, I knew it was in a critical state, soon to become grave, then probably flat line.

Besides slathering about an entire bottle of Purell on my hands, the rest of the walk to work was pretty grim. Cradling my iPod nano baby in ten napkins, I finally place it in my bag, zip it up, and now I wait…

It is now resting vertically against my coffee mug, hopefully drying out. The headphones are long gone, in the trash of the coffee place because I feared I would suffer from ear rot if I salvaged them. If I hear of any signs of life, I’ll let you know.

I’m feeling funky. No, I took a shower this morning. I’m just in a funk—a rut, if you will.

I always know I’m in a funk when:
I actually growl at people that bug me while walking on the sidewalk
I will actually walk an extra street out of the way just because I’m so sick of passing the same sites everyday
I make faces to myself when I hear the assistant editor’s bracelet clang her desk…every three seconds when she moves her hands to type…

I am just soooo bored at this freaking office that I even Googled, “I’m in a funk.” Here’s what popped up.

Let’s see what it has to say.

Ten Healthy Actions to Get Yourself out of a Funk
By Phylameana lila Desy
Your Guide to Holistic Healing

Whenever I’m in a funk, I feel grumpy and disengaged from life in general. Agree.
Basically, I become lethargic during these periods. Agree.
Usually I go ahead and allow myself to indulge in my funk for a day or two. Hmmm about a week…
Who doesn’t love an occasional pity party? So true.
But, beyond that time period I’m really concerned that I’m headed toward a dark shadow. I’m fully aware that depression could get its ugly grip on me if I don’t turn the corner. Well, that’s a bit heavy. I just need a vacay or for cute boys to buy me drinks. Yes, I’m shallow.

The article continues. Here are her healthy ways for getting out of a funk. For some reason, since she added “healthy,” I doubt they include vodka. This should be interesting.

1. Go for a walk – I’m not talking about a marathon here. I would agree, getting out of the apt is nice…

2. Do a Random Act of Kindness – Stop feeling sorry for yourself and make someone else’s day special. Afterwards, you will both feel better. Unless it’s for a child.

3. Clear out clutter – One of the quickest ways to generate new and fresh energy moving into my space is to clear away stagnant energies by throwing out useless materials. Tossing out trash may seem like work, but it is totally energizing once you get the hang of it. Disagree. Anyone who knows me would know that nothing gets me in a worse mood than sorting out my own crap. Swiffering however…

I’m skipping a few…by the way, co-workers of mine are complaining about how much they hate lima beans and one who is trying to eat healthy was whining that the cauliflower she got from the buffet across the street tasted good but was yellow so it was probably cooked in a vat of butter…..I DON’T CARE…..

6. Hug a Tree – Spending time with nature is my favorite way to feel better. Put on your hiking boots and get lost for a couple hours near a babbling brook. If you can’t get out of town, at least go for a barefoot run through the grasses in your yard. There is no way anyone is hugging a tree unless they have obviously done something to get out of their funk that Ms. lila Desy would not find “healthy”

7. Change your bed sheets – Better yet, go out and purchase a new set of colorful bed linens to brighten up your bedroom. When is the last time you changed your linens anyway? Who told??

9. Spend quality time with a child – Take your niece or—- That’s it. I’m done.

Well, I guess nothing I find on Google will be able to get me out of my funk. But tomorrow is a new day, and tonight’s happy hour is approaching.

I loathe the A&P. I just absolutely hate all big grocery stores. I wasn’t always like this. When I was little, trips to the grocery store involved my sis and I wearing cute little outifts, being whirled around in a cart among Juicy juice cartons and Teddy Grahams. Then we’d sit in our Volvo station wagon, trunk door lifted, doors open while Mom unpacked the groceries. In the summer, we’d continue to color in our coloring books with half melted crayons and my sis and I didn’t have move a finger unless a bee flew into the car and we would run and scream like crazy.

But now, there is no Juicy Juice, no Animal Crackers to reward me for not pitching a fit in the middle of A&P. All I get is the bill. And yes, I have a huge problem paying for food. I have gotten used to paying my credit cards, my rent, my miscellaneous bills, but for some reason, when it comes to groceries, I still expect for someone else to front the bill. And its completely ironic and contradictory: I love LOVE food, but yet, I hate to pay for it, from a grocery store. Go figure.

I hate stores like A&P, Shop Rite, and Stop & Shop because they all have the same in common: really powerful air conditioning, people in sweatpants, “deals” and “specials” that never turn out to be a deal after they get rung up (Oh I’m sorry, you will only save 25 cents on the diced tomotoes, not the peeled and diced tomatoes), and oh, did I mention people in sweatpants??

Today, after my pilates burn class (let’s clarify, I was wearing yoga pants) I took a tote bag with me to kick off my “no more plastic bags” movement, and decided that I would suck everything up to go to the A&P because let’s face it, I don’t really have a cute little budget to to go with all the cute little gourmet shops in Hoboken. Ah well.

I enter through the doors to find–SWEET!– a two for one deal on English Muffins. While they aren’t multi-grain, I convince myself that for right now, a little white flour in my diet will be worth saving a few bucks. Twelve muffins for $2!! Wahhoo. Take that South Beach.

Then I make the rounds, picking up two bags of baby carrots for buy one, get one free; crunchy pb&j to feed my obsession, strawberry preserves on special–had to replace the one I was using in the fridge which from my previous post I learned wasn’t too fresh…; garlic, an onion, two packages of extra-firm tofu (not a big meat eater), brown rice, and a big carton of 18 eggs. And a Diet Pepsi. And some girly stuff that I don’t need to mention.

And now I get to demonstrate one of the reasons why I hate A&P: I get out my Buyer’s Club card, swipey, swipey, I pack up my tote (and two plastic bags–damn it I tried!) and look at my receipt on the way home. The carrots were not two for one, why I have no idea. I didn’t get the English Muffin deal, why I don’t know why, and….there were two people in front of me in sweat pants. But what the hell receipt??

RAR. I saved $4 from my card. Ok, in total, I only spent about $37 and change for what will probably get me through two weeks of food, so I’m not complaining, much. But I might as well just continue to shop at the little gourmet places out of convenience. The thing is, I never hold onto reciepts so I never compare prices. For a girl on a budget, this is a big No-No. So for the month of May, I am keeping all my food receipts to see how much I actually spend. I will report back.

I also wonder about quantity over quality. You know how you hear about how all those French women who don’t get fat, yet they eat decadent croissants and brioche and brie everyday? I have decided that one week, probably the first week of June, I will declare a gourmet week, in which I will only shop at the gorumet stores and buy rich cheeses and see if I really do eat less, possibly, buying less. It will be an experiment. And if I end up gaining ten pounds while my wallet gets skinny, well, at least I got to stuff my face with Camembert all week. Again, I will report back. For now, I’m going to eat some pb&j. YUM.

It’s 10 p.m. on a Friday night in Hoboken. It’s been raining all day, and quite honestly, I don’t really feel like slapping make-up on my face and doing my hair just so it can frizz up again the second I leave my apartment. So naturally, guess what time it is!!???

You are lucky, because you are in store for the very first round of “Guess My Expiration Date!” the game in which you guess just how long that lonely looking can or bottle of Jamaican jerk seasoning has actually been sitting in my fridge.

Let’s clarify—I can be somewhat of a pack rat—but that’s with magazines, newspapers, clothing, hand written notes—all dry material that do not have shelf lives. The food that we will be guessing on tonight I did not bought buy, and to my knowledge, has all been in my kitchen since I moved into my apartment last September 2007. And, my roommates are very neat people, it’s just that one works long hours and only eats sushi or burritos from Quodoba, and the other is actually a phantom. More about that later.

Let the games begin!! Where should we start first?? Drum roll please….the freezer!!! Now I must apologize, there used to be more food in here, but a month ago I went on a cleaning frenzy before giving birth to this blog and didn’t think about all the great material lying around my apartment that could possibly inspire future posts. I know better now. Anyway—let’s see what’s inside…

We’ll start with the white container. Hmm, upon shaking, it sounds like peas. I’m correct! Well, they don’t appear to have too much freezer burn, and they are still green…I’m no scientist, but I’ll let those guys slide. Next up, a box of fudgsicles. Word of advice–never let happy packaging fool you. These poor things expired April 13, 2007. That’s pretty bad, but I have a feeling there are worse discoveries just waiting for me to peel back their foil.

Now, when it comes to meat, I’m probably just going to toss it, but we’ll just have to look anyway. ICK—I have no idea what this is!

Toss. Hmm, the beef is pulling the very crafty “repackaging into a zip lock bag so no one will know its expiration date” trick. Too bad it’s just a block of ice. TOSS.

Ohh hello little guy…

You can stay.

OK. Have you been keeping up so far? I’m bad at math, so I’m not really keeping score, but so far I’ve only spared the peas. On to the fridge!

Now I’m scared. I’ve seen this corn husk hiding in the dim corner above the crisper since the first day I moved in. You know what? I bet what’s waiting is so wonderful that I’ll leave that surprise to it’s owner. The thought of peeling back that husk is just too frightening. But the Country Crock next to it has met its dooms day—expired: Sept. 24, 2006. OOOH that’s the oldest one so far! What else, what else! Four reduced fat mayos, all expired, mostly 2007. One skipped out on Dec 2006. American cheese slices, expired: May 12, 2007. Pre-sliced, canned black olives, I’m not sure, but the cloudy juice alone didn’t really resemble the normal consistency or color of brine. He’s a goner. TOSS!

The tomato sauces, all six of them checked out OK, though the thought alone of having six bottles of tomato sauce among three roommates concerned me.

Hmmm. Chunky blue cheese dressing. By the looks of the separating white goo, I knew this wasn’t going to be pleasant. I was right! Expired: May 18, 2006. This one has been a goner since I graduated college! There’s a thought. While I was crossing the stage back in Lancaster, PA, to collect my diploma, this guy was sitting in the same spot on the door of the fridge in Hoboken, NJ. Awaiting my arrival. Creepy.

One of worst offenders of the group was Aunt Jemima, Lite Maple Syrup that expired: April 07, 2006. Oh Jeebus Jemima. I was cramming for my last finals when you arrived. And Marie’s Italian Vinagrette bit the dust April 2006 as well. Smucker’s Sugar-Free Boysenberry Preserves, while getting points for being a weird flavor, was a goner since August 2006.

He can stay too.

And last, but not least, phantom roommate’s food shelf. It’s only down to a few items now. After I realized that I didn’t want food that was still OK to waste on her shelf, I started to eat it. I have consumed the following from her shelf: Canned chicken, crunchy peanut butter, America’s Choice red fish (generic Swedish Fish) and….hmmm. I think that’s it for now. DISCLAIMER: all of these foods were still within their safe expiration date when I consumed them. Also–I am not a mooch. I just hate wasting food. I also ate her perogies in the freezer. I’m sorry.

All in all, a recap–

Worst offender:
Aunt Jemima Lite Maple Syrup, expired: April 07, 2006
Most interesting find that is still in fridge from lack of date: Peter Luger steak sauce
Item that’s damn lucky it had no date and still looked relatively edible: frozen, nameless peas

I’m exhausted. Anyway, did anyone win? Winner gets to take out the garbage!!