Getting Rid of Plastic.

Some people are addicted to drugs.  Others, alcohol.

I was...am...addicted to shopping.

And it nearly ruined me.

I wanted for very little when I was growing up.  My father spoiled me with clothes, toys, vacations, basically anything I wanted.  And then, when I was old enough to get a job, I scored a waitressing position at the local upscale restuarant.  I made so much money that I couldn't even close my wallet.  For real.

And so I never had to worry about wanting things. 

That is, until, I graduated from college and couldn't find work.

This is where my problem first began.

Living in a major city requires a lot of money.  Rent is tremendously high, and car insurance is a real bitch.  Unfortunately, the only job I was able to find after college had a very small salary. 

Very small.

And when I needed a new car, I did not make the wise decision.  Instead, I got a convertible.

I was 22 years old without a penny to my name, but I was driving a cute, expensive car.

A cute, expensive car I couldn't afford.

Because of the high payments, I turned to credit cards.  Since I had never gone without, these credit cards were a way in which I was still able to buy everything I could have wanted.

When I moved back home and took my first teaching position, I figured I'd be more than able to pay off my credit cards.

But then I needed a teaching wardrobe.

And then I needed a master's degree.

Before I knew it, I had acquired almost $20,000 in credit card debt.

$20,000.

I was paying more than the monthly payments on my cards (in total, I believe I had four), but nothing seemed to bring the amount down.  I remember making those payments and thinking I probably didn't even have half the stuff anymore that I was paying for.

I lost sleep at night wondering how I was ever going to get myself out of this mess.

I resolved to stop using the credit cards altogether.  I pretended they didn't even exist.

Two years later, I had halved the amount I owed.  Not bad, but having another $10,000 to pay off made my stomach turn.

Today, as I write this, I have absolutely no credit card debt.

I made the final payment last week.

I can't even tell you how I feel right now.

You may wonder how a teacher was able to get herself out of $10,000 worth of debt in a year.

Well, you can thank my husband for that one.  Since he travels so much, he gets bonuses every now and again.  Each time he received one, I'd put it right into the cards.

So, I lucked out.  I know many out there aren't so lucky. 

Am I good with money?  No.  I still want the best of everything, and I want it right now.  Resisting the urge to go out and buy whatever I want, whenever I want, is something I still struggle with today.  I'm getting better, though, a little at a time.

I am by no means a financial guru.  In fact, I'm the last person you should ask about financial advice.  But for all of those people out there who are up to their necks in debt, my advice to you is simple: put down the plastic.  Pay as much as you can on your cards per month.

And most importantly, know that you're not alone.

Spring Break.

Last week was my Spring Break.  Let me tell you, it was wild and crazy!  Seriously, I partied till the break of dawn every night for a week straight.  I need a break from my Spring Break!

Ok, let's cut the shiz, shall we? 

I spent last week in Upstate New York.  Yes, you heard me--I spent Spring Break in a climate colder than the one in which I live.  I'm always doing things backward, believe me.

Anyway, all I did was read, lounge, and ship out all of my belongings that are still at my parents'.  With each package I sent, my mother cried tears of joy.  Finally, she has (some of) her upstairs back!  Seriously, my stuff was taking up four rooms and three closets.

Oopsies.

So, I downsized a bit and gave two bags of clothes and such to charity.  I also gave away a stack of books that I'd read.  I sent three gigantic packages out here.  And yet there is still so much more of my stuff at my parents'.  Oh well.  At least now my mom can have my sister's closet back.

I also read the following books:

1.  The Heart is a Lonely Hunter (depressing)
2. Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (bizarre)
3.  The First Wives Club (the movie was ten times better)

My Spring Break kind of ended on a sour note, though, when my mom asked me if it'd be ok if she painted my bedroom.

Two tantrums and several hours later, she finally realized that the bedroom is just fine the way it is.

Some things never change.

The Bachelor Finale.

Well, I was wrong. 

Again.

 I guess I don't know men at all. 

Much to my surprise, Brad did not go with Chantal; rather, he chose America's Sweetheart, Emily.

I also have an admission to make.

I like Brad.  A lot.

In fact, I think he's my favorite bachelor.

Granted, he left me with no good material for my blog, but I like the guy.  Respect him, even.

Unlike the bachelors before him, Brad was not a pig dog.

There was no dry humping in the hot tub (I guess that would make it wet humping?).

There were no back-to-back make-out sessions.

Brad seemed to always speak from the heart.  He did not lead the girls on. 

In fact, I knew he was going to pick Emily halfway through the show, when he told her he wanted to be a good dad to her daughter.

The sad part is, though, Brad and Emily may or may not be together now.  On the After the Final Rose, both admitted that they had broken up, but they're back together now.

Looking back, I thought Emily was aloof and cold because she was trying to protect herself.

Now, though, I'm not so sure she's as sweet as we all thought she was.

Let's just hope that the upcoming Bachelor Pad 2 and The Bachelorette are a bit more scandalous than this season.

And Brad?  I love you.  I honestly love you.

But only as friends.

The Battle of the Green Berets.

It all started at the grocery store.

I just had to run in for a few items--milk, several pints of Ben and Jerry's, and maybe some vegetables to make me feel less guilty about the ice cream.

And that's when I heard them.

The Green Berets.

No, not the rough and tough army dudes.

Worse, my friends. 

Much worse.

The Girl Scouts.

"Cookies for sale!" they yelled as I dashed past. 

I hurriedly paid for my items and started to run out the door.

But they caught me.

"Ma'am, would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies?  It's for a great cause!" the little blue-eyed girl asked me.

"You look so cute in your uniform!" I squealed.  "I just love berets, don't you?  I think I may have to pick one up for myself!"

"Look, lady," another one interjected.  "Do you want our cookies or not?"

"Um, actually, I'm on a diet, but thanks anyway."
"You don't look that fat," Blue Eyes said.

Oh no she didn't.

"Oh, well thanks for your opinion.  Next time I want it, I'll ask for it!" I snipped.

"You know, I'm just months away from my thirtieth birthday, and this attitude?  I don't need."

"You're only going to be thirty?  Wow, I would have thought you were my mom's age.  Are you calling my mom old?"

By this point, I was so angry that visions of Suri Cruise were dancing in my head.

I mean, John Wayne should have studied these girls before he played the lead in The Green Berets.  They had nerves of steel, and they hadn't even reached puberty!

I stood there, having a staring contest with a nine-year-old girl in front of the grocery store.  By this point, any pride that I had once possessed had quickly disappeared.

Neither of us were willing to back down.

I stared.

 She stared.

Until finally, her little friend came up to her and said, "Come on, Suri.  She's obviously not going to buy.  We're wasting our time with her."

And as I heard the next victim explain to the little soldiers that he didn't have cash on him, I had to chuckle when one of them, presumably Suri, exclaimed, "Well, we do take checks, you know," in her most sarcastic voice.

I managed to come out unscathed, my friends.  This time.

The Girls Tell All...and so Does Chris B. Harrison's Hair.

Ok, so lucky for you readers, you're getting an abbreviated version of The Bachelor: The Girls Tell All.  This is because I had forgotten about a previous engagement, and I got home an hour into the show.  Oopsies. 

Anyway.  The first thing I saw was Crazy Michelle wiping her tears, and Chris B.'s hair situation.  He tried to do this weird, spikey thing to make himself look young and hip, but I'm sorry, Chris B.  It did not work.

After my initial shock that Chris B. Harrison is a member of The Backstreet Boys, I was able to collect my thoughts and develop my raw, unbiased (ok, who am I kidding?) opinions on the show.

First up was Ashley, the nanny.  She was the one who blubbered on and on about how she was done and why couldn't she find a man who would love her forever.

Um, first of all, Ashley, you are only 26.  Stop acting like you're 72 and your time in the sun is over.  You're a cute girl.  I'm sure you'll find someone worthy of your tears.

So Chris introduced her and stuff, and then started her little segment.  She was all, "Oh God."  Um, Ashley?  I'm pretty sure you just sat through Michelle's segment.  Did you not think they were going to play back all of those golden moments you shared with Brad?

So she was still complaining about how she hasn't found anyone, and how hard her previous relationships have been.  Sister, you're on a dating show.  I'm pretty sure you're preaching to the choir on that one.

Next, Dentist Ashley was up.  She had her hair dyed auburn.  Ashley, go back to your golden blonde locks.  You look terrible, girlfriend.

BUT...she actually spoke fairly intelligently, which was a nice surprise.  Kudos to you, Ash.  You've grown. 

Then Brad came out. 

I don't know, but the clapping throughout the show was so mechanical.  I felt like I was watching a 1970's game show.  Where's my avocado-colored applicances?

So Brad came on and talked about some stuff.  He even said he promised his "significant other" that he wouldn't be too happy to be around his chicks again.  He said he couldn't help himself.

Honestly, it's really hard for me to be mean to Brad.  The girls, yes, but Brad, no.  IDK, I just thought he was genuinely a nice guy.  In fact, I'm kind of mad at him because he didn't give me a lot of opps to talk about pig dogs and dry humping like I could in Jake's season.

Anyway, the dude looks happy.

My prediction?  He chooses Chantal.

Unfortunately.

We'll all find out next week in what will surely be the most dramatic rose ceremony ever.

Once Again, My Mother was Right.

Remember a few months ago when I posted how my mom kept telling me I should be more anonymous on my blog?

Well, recently, I found out that she was right. 

Without going into the gory details, I'd like you all to know that I have changed some things up on my blog.

First and foremost, I will now be referring to myself as DBB.  I was going to just call myself "DB", but since this is my abbreviation for douche bag, I decided it against it.

Although I'm quite certain people refer to me as "DB", probably on a daily basis.

Also, my husband is now Hubs, Hubby, Stud Muffin, or any other name I wish to call him.

Oh, I'll probably refer to him as Jack sometimes, too. 

You know, a shortened name for "Jack Ass".

Love you, honey.

Should you need to send me messages of love and adoration, please use this e-mail account: andahomecomingqueen@gmail.com

No, I was never a homecoming queen.  I was too much of a VIRGIN to win that coveted crown in high school, and I'm quite proud of that.

Also, I am on Twitter as sleepyjean10.  I would love to hear from you guys on there, so give me a follow.  I promise to follow back if you Tweet me that you're a reader of my blog (if you don't, I might assume you're one of those freaky robot peeps on there--you know, the ones who Tweet me about going on Viagra and such).

So, I'm back.  For now.  I don't know how long this will last, but you can all sleep soundly at night knowing DBB will try her best to give you a little chuckle on an almost daily basis.

Tomorrow, kids, I will be reviewing "The Bachelor: The Ladies Tell All".  I know how much you're looking forward to that!

Peace!