Champagne Taste on a Beer Budget

I love a good bargain. I think this was instilled in me by my grandparents who still live financially like we are in the Depression. I have a hard time paying full price for many things . . . unless we are in dire need of it; for example a new bathtub. (We paid full price for that puppy. There was no waiting for Home Depot to have a sale nor was there any regret over that decision.) One great thing about being thrifty is that sometimes you are able to buy items that are unique and other people wouldn't be able to find. It's fun to know you have a one of a kind. When I see signs for flea markets, estate sales and church rummage sales, it really gets my heart pumping. (Yes, I just said that and I am only slightly embarrassed by it, but not so much that I would consider rephrasing it.) All this being said, I would not call myself cheap. In fact, cheap people annoy the heck out of me, but I do still have my old financial situation in the back of my mind from when I was single and was making choices like whether I should get gas or groceries for the week. (I ate a lot of Ramen then and, consequently, was a dress size smaller . . .) So, I often find it hard (and sometimes unwise) to "splurge" even though I am not worried about bouncing checks.

All of this random back information leads up to what happened this morning. I was organizing a stack of catalogs we had in our coffee table cubbyholes and decided to peruse them one more time before recycling them. In the pile was a catalog for Pottery Barn . . . the booklet that contains the glorious housewares to the decorating mecca. I don't know how my name got on the coveted mailing list for PB but it did, and now they torment me with their beautiful accessories, monogrammed pillowcases and handsome wood furniture pieces that grace the pages of their Booklet of Desires. Every time I turn the page, I spot something that would look perfect in our home. I cock my head to the side, scrunch up my face in awe and then sigh deeply as I look at the price. If I was able to pick out everything I wanted in that catalog, I would have to take out a second mortgage on our home. Pottery Barn has become another of my Love/Hate Relationships. Love the style, hate how they take you to the cleaners on the price.

While I was wistfully coveting all that PB has to offer the American consumer, I was also watching HGTV, obviously, and watching the creative designers masterfully transform the room they are designing into a new oasis for the homeowner. Between that and my PB experience, I was beginning to enter a dark designing place where I think, ''I need to redecorate.'' (Don't worry, Troy, I won't . . . . we have our hands full with the bathroom). After I took a few deep breaths, I realized that I was getting sucked into the American Dream that is like the pink elephant in the room. You know, the one that says, ''you can have it all now, you just need to hand over your first child as payment.'' Or you may have heard it phrased like, ''you can have it all now, who cares if you go into financial ruin.''

So, I guess the lesson learned today is one of the following:

1. Pottery Barn is clearly from the devil. One should never read the temptations it has splashed over in its sinful pages.

. . . or . . .

2. Don't organize the coffee table.