One in Every Color!

So today is Nordstrom's Semi-annual Sale. And I have to admit that I'm one of those who gets out of bed early to get the best selection on those items I simply cannot live without! Now it's important to keep in mind that I've lived without them all along but that changes as soon as the Nordstrom's sale occurs.

Why does this happen? Well, there are a ton of reasons. The simplest, and most obvious is...I'M A WOMAN. Gawd.

Aside from that, Nordstrom's has some seriously good stuff. Tons of it, and it fits nicely and the service is fabulous. They tell you their name and then treat you like you're SOMEBODY. Try getting THAT at Walfart or Target. The downside is that even on sale, it's gonna set you back a bit. Blah.

The shoe department is an entity unto itself. Hundreds and hundreds of shoes to choose from, and then you simply sit back in big comfy chairs and let lovely young men come to you and do your bidding, rushing around finding shoes and fitting them to you. Ahhhh....peel me a grape, would you? There's a good lad...

And if the shoes don't fit the next day, or week, or month, you simply take them back (receipt not required), and that lovely young man will just hand you money. It's an absolutely orgasmic experience. It's no wonder I have so many shoes. Did you know that if your feet are really two different sizes, they WILL sell you two different sized shoes?? How frickin' cool is that?

The down side of all this is that they open the store to everyone, not just me. Bastards.

I begin to recognize the folly of attending the sale as I enter the parking lot of the mall. Lines of cars headed towards the store. Crap. But I forge ahead towards the parking garage. As is typical, as soon as I get inside, I get to play 'dodge and weave' with the stupid fucknuts who drive 50 miles an hour through the crowded building as they whip around corners. Ok, I've been here 27 seconds and my stress level is rising. One level up, and I'm behind a woman who's waiting for a parking spot. She's stopped, and is waiting for someone to back out. And whoever is backing out is NOT in a hurry to move. Now I don't really have a problem with that. What I do have a problem with is that she's PARKED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE AISLE. No one can get by, either direction. WTF??? And UP goes the stress level yet again. Breathe deeply Bo, and keep going....

I step inside the doors to my mecca and stop, inhaling...ahhhh, the smell of new fabric and magic markers on price tags! So I commence hardcore shopping; you know the sort: you hit every rack with a red/black sign on top advertising 30-50% off and race through it like a dog through a can of Alpo. But hells bells, at least I'm polite about it. I'm not tearing stuff out of other people's hands! So I pick up a couple things and set them aside on a neat little pile, sort of 'under' other things, so they're out of the way. And as fast as I do it, some bleached blonde with plastic tits and acrylic nails is pursing her heavily painted lips and pawing through MY STUFF. Now I have a fairly wicked stare, and it frightens smart people. These people don't glance up long enough to notice. THIS PISSES ME OFF. I like scaring people. You know what else pisses me off? The fact that the woman didn't BUY any of 'my stuff'. It was almost like she thought my taste stunk. Hmph. Screw her.

Anyway, I push on. So far, I've got two shirts (one shirt, two colors). And what I'm realizing is that nothing on sale interests me. I hate that. WHY is it always that way? As soon as I find something I like, I check the price tag and find that it's not marked down--at all. Not even a bloody 10%. Not only that, but I've wandered into the Ralph Lauren section by accident (ya, lets call it an accident), so it's all mortgage-threatening merchandise. DAMMIT. But as I wander through that section, I notice something else: there are wayyyyyyyy less people in that department. Why? No sale prices. So it's pretty quiet and I can enjoy my Nordy's shopping experience in relative peace. Except: each time 'my' sales person comes to talk to me and find things for me to try on, someone more important than me will absolutely have to interrupt with something that's vital to her life. And that's something I've noticed happens way too much. I'll be in the middle of a conversation with a salesperson somewhere and someone will simply step in and ask for help, thinking that because they have a SHORTER question, it's somehow LESS FUCKING RUDE. I have a news flash: IT'S NOT. I was there first. I waited my turn. I NOW OWN HER, for the duration of my shopping experience. GET LOST. When I'm done, when I've paid, when she's walked out from behind the counter and handed me my bag, or I've turned away, then hey, she's all yours, but until then, FIND YOUR OWN SALESPERSON.

Unfortunately for me, I've found "the perfect jeans". And I'm paying through the nose, and trying to figure out some sort of deal I can make with my husband when I get home. Something that will make it seem ok to spend as much on a pair of jeans as I did-but damn, they do look good! So I end up using two different accounts, hoping that having ME pay for the shirts and HIM pay for the jeans will somehow make it seem less uh, outrageous. The shirts are low-cut, cleavage-showing shirts. That will help.

Exiting the parking garage is EXACTLY the same as going in. But somehow, I simply don't care as much. Such is the joy of the Nordy's Semi-annual sale. But why?

One of the symptoms of BPD is self-harm or self-destructive behaviour. This symptom covers a LOT of ground, including abusing alcohol, drugs, sexual promiscuity, self-injury, dangerous driving, eating disorders, and over-spending. Now this doesn't mean that everyone who loves to shop has BPD. But it does mean that for me. The shopping has two effects. First, if I'm having a rough time, and emotional storms are brewing, it soothes me. It takes my mind away from the illness and whatever symptoms are plaguing me, and focuses it on the shopping. Secondly, when I actually buy things, especially when they're fine things like they were today, it gives me a rush like you get when you're really excited about something (sort of like really good sex). The unfortunate part is that the rush is extremely short-lived, and leaves you feeling empty both in spirit, and in pocket. Then you have to deal with both THOSE problems. The problem obviously gets magnified...again and again and again. If you look up at the other examples I listed under self-destructive behaviour, you can see that each of those things lend themselves to the 'magnification' principle: when you engage in the destructive behaviour, you simply multiply the problem and have just that much more work to do in order to fix it.

So what do you do instead? You use the tools you're learning in therapy or books to identify what problems are bothering you at that immediate time, then decide what steps to take to work through them. Some of these tools can be found in the BPDRecovery forum; check out Five Steps, Ten Forms, Ten Ways.

I didn't have to do that today. I NEEDED the jeans, really!