I'm on my break at Starbucks (hoping to finish this blog within ten minutes so I can fit in a nap on my 30-minute break) after a particularly harrowing hour decoding our new cash handling procedures.

Using Starbucks' many notebooks and training materials lately has me thinking about whether or not this obsessive organization could have a positive effect on my personal finances.

When I think about my finances, I get short of breath and feel my stomach tightening. Money (and lack of it) is like this huge, murky cloud -- I'm frightened of it, and I don't understand it. It's kind of like financial dementors* are closing in on me, and the only way I can fight them is to run from the problem ... because, if I turned around and faced it, it would completely overwhelm me. (What would my patronus be? Not a stag like Harry's or even an otter like Hermione's ... I think it would be a turtle. A turtle carries its home on its back, which is an ideal symbol of the Cheap Women project. Unfortunately, it's also depressingly slow ... which is another way it mirrors our contest, which seems to be fraught with setbacks and lethargy.)

At work, we use cleverly organized notebooks for everything from cash to whipped cream counts. I've been thinking about making my own leger with a run-down of all my finances in it, so I don't have to go back and forth from my bank statements to my checkbook to my credit card bills, etc. etc. Here are some things I think it would need:

Pocket for receipts
Check register
Savings account register
All credit card account info
Personal loans (borrowing $20 from a friend, etc.)
Monthly bill lists (including addresses or websites, etc. for paying)
401K & stock info (and, no, I don't have these ... but I'm working toward them)
Cash intake and expenses
Student loans

I feel like it may help to be able to look at one simple notebook and know that everything was inside. It might seem more manageable and less scary. A system like this might already exist. Probably a computer program does, at least. I wonder if I'd be disciplined enough to use a computer program? It would have to be one that gives you cupcakes when you're finished inputing data.

I'll keep thinking. Until then, I plan to ignore my troubles and sit around imagining the epic battle between Turtle Patronus and American Express.

* This is an extended Harry Potter analogy. For those of you who aren't familiar, a patronus is sort of a spirit animal that you conjure in order to fight trouble, specifically dementors, which are evil beings that literally suck your soul. And, yes, I know that it's lame to make Harry Potter analogies.

Garage sales look so fun on TV. But can they succeed without a pseudo-celebrity shouting into megaphone? We're about to find out, because Elisa and I are hosting the first ever (and maybe last ever ... but that kind of depends on how desperate we get) Cheap Women Garage Sale Extravaganza.

So come this Saturday and spend your money!! We need help, and you need an end table ... it's fate! Plus, we'll be serving free Starbucks coffee (I knew I was saving my coffee bean markouts for something), so it's worth stopping by just for the caffeine.

GARAGE SALE
THIS SATURDAY!! NOVEMBER 3
7 A.M. to NOON
1027 30th Street South (Virginia Court Apartments)

Friends: Feel free to donate your stuff to the Cheap Women cause. If it sells, Elisa and I will split the money. If it doesn't, you can come pick it up, or we'll donate it to Hannah Home.

Don't want to part with your memories? (We hear you ... it sucks.) There are lots of other things we're desperate for help with. Let us know if you're into any of the following:

* Lend us folding tables (because "floor display" isn't meant to be taken literally)
* Distribute flyers (they'll be available at Starbucks Crestline and Starbucks Cahaba Heights starting Tuesday)
* Bring us lunch on Saturday (come on ... if we didn't at least ask for a free lunch we could hardly be called "cheap")
* Put up "directions" signs around the neighborhood Friday night or Saturday morning
* Hang out and help on Saturday
* Most of all, COME OUT AND BUY OUR STUFF!!

I think I might be vehicularly plagued. In the past two months I've had five breakdowns, one full-on accident that left me laying on the road in the rain, one theft and -- as of today -- one completely flat tire.

I haven't blogged much about these trials because, miraculously, they haven't left much of a financial strain (thanks mostly to Progressive, which turned out to be amazing).

Today's incident was probably the smoothest of the bunch. The "blow out" (or whatever ... I'm not exactly sure what happened except that one minute I had a functional tire and the next minute I did not) was not in traffic, I handled it perfectly safely, and I wasn't far from home.

Still, I can't seem to cope. As I stood in the middle of the road staring at my scooter and wondering what to do, I gave up. It seemed impossible to push the scooter home, impossible to call for help, impossible even to stand to the side while my friends loaded it into a truck. The only thing that seemed remotely feasible was crawling into bed, and that's exactly what I've done.

Luckily, I did manage to call my neighbor, and he valiantly got up from a nap to take care of me. He needed cash for a tire patching kit, and didn't want to walk up my zillion flights of stairs again, so I offered to throw it down to him. Somehow it seemed like putting the $20 in an old jam jar and dropping it off the balcony would be a good plan (so the money didn't get caught on the wind, which seemed like my luck). Anyway, the jar landed directly on his foot (after gaining a zillion flights worth of momentum), and now he's walking with a limp. If this is an indication of how I treat Prince Charming, hopes for my romantic future seem dim.

Chances are, the patch kit will do its job and I'll be fit to scoot up to work before dawn in the morning, just like always. If not, I'm not sure what my options are. I could borrow a car, or maybe even walk to work (it's not far). Stay tuned. (Or stay logged, or whatever you're supposed to do on the Internet.)

Yesterday, Elisa called to ask if I wanted to go to the library. I did not want to go to the library. But I felt somehow morally compelled to go, realizing that I really have no room to complain about the price of books and movies if I don't take advantage of free books and movies when they become available. So, to maintain the moral high ground (and preserve my right to complain), I grabbed a hoodie and headed out.

I've avoided the library for several years now. This seems odd, since I'm 1) sort of a reading addict and 2) poor. The primary reason was that I checked out an audio book (something Jane Austen-y, I think) in 2001 and promptly lost one of the cassettes. I've assumed I'd been blackballed by the Jefferson County library system, and that I'd have to pay a six-year fine (or at least pay for the audio book) in order to have my privileges reinstated. In fact, all I had to do was apply for a new card and fail to mention the existence of the old one. Voila -- clean slate (and guilty conscience, but whatev).

So, new library card in hand, I waltzed into the downtown library (if by "waltz" you mean practically running to keep up with Elisa, who seemed to think we were in some kind of foot race). I promptly remembered why I don't like the library.

First off, it smelled kind of like moth balls ... and also like a school cafeteria. Since moth ball smell is strongly associated with the elderly, and school cafeterias are reminiscent of children, I'm sure you'll agree that this combination rather unpleasantly brings to mind the futility of youth and the inevitability of mortality. Or maybe it's just me.

Anyway, I went directly to the Fiction Movies section, because the real reason I'd dragged myself away from my apartment was that my Netflix is late (okay, I'd only just mailed it that afternoon, but I already wanted another one). I chose Raising Helen, Tadpole and Casanova, which should tell you something about their movie selection (i.e. that it is crappy).

To kill time, I decided to look at some books. I looked for The Arsonist's Guide to Burning Down Author's Houses in England (or whatever that title is). I did not find it, but I did pick up Him Her Him Again the End of Him (recommended by Steve Martin, which is a strike against it in my mind) and The Reluctant Fundamentalist (recommended by Philip Pullman, which is definitely a plus). I started with the former and it is pretty excellent and very funny, despite poorly chosen cover art.

Elisa says the rest of the library was pretty rad (my word, not hers) and that they had lots of excellent craft books. Elisa checked out, oh, 500 or so of those titles, so their crochet and quilting sections may be a bit depleted at the moment.

Also the boy librarians were cute, and one of them looked exactly (eerily) like Jimmy (except only from the back: his face was different and his pants where longer). I thought I'd give pseudo-Jimmy my number, but finally decided the similarity might be too confusing. And also I remembered I'd never, ever have the guts to hit on a librarian (or anyone), so the issue was kind of moot.

I guess the point (yes, there is one) (no, there's not, I was kidding) is that I'm not really sold on the library, but I'm not sure why. They have lots of free books and movies, and those are my favorite things. Maybe the thrill is gone when I'm not actually purchasing and owning said books. Maybe it's because, despite a third grade tutorial and a particularly tedious (but informative) plot structure in a Lemony Snicket book, I still don't understand the Dewey Decimal System. Maybe it's just because the smell reminds me of the fragility of life.

But I'm enjoying my books. I will return to the library (my books are due, after all), and I hope to give it a second chance. Until then, I'm going to watch Raising Helen and see what life lessons I can learn from Kate Hudson.

I'm happy to report that I just stuffed my work bag with cabbage soup, granola and edamame. Goodbye, breakfast and lunch comprised only of markout pastries! (Hello, one pastry a day eaten mainly because it looks way more tempting than cabbage soup!!)

I stayed up late last night to cook rice and quinoa and organize my food into a bunch of little freezer containers so I can just grab them and heat them up instead of cooking a whole meal from scratch each time. The only casualties were a burned Tuscan Rice and Beans boxed meal and a so-called microwave safe container. I did successfully fan the smoke away from the fire alarm, which I claim as a victory for both me and my neighbors since it was almost two in the morning.

Remember when I decided to avoid the grocery store as long as I had food to eat? I decided this ban has gone on (almost) long enough. Apparently, I had stored enough food to stock a bomb shelter for several months, and it's been hard to get through it all. Unfortunately, I'm left with plenty of rice and beans but few fruits and vegetables. I'll do some crazy things for this project, but I'm a Cheap Woman, not Morgan Spurlock ... sacrificing my nutritional health isn't one of them. So I'm going to do the best I can do to eat through my small storehouse of food this week, then I'm heading to Publix ... or the Pig ... or whatever is cheap and not Wal-Mart ... and rounding out my food pyramid.

In other news, a special bon voyage to one of Cheap Women's biggest supporters: Elisa's and my friend Jenn is leaving for Africa on Tuesday, and, although we wholeheartedly support her mission (she's going to work with kids at an orphanage), we will miss her terribly. Thank God email is cheap! Anyway, if you're in a position to give, I'm pretty sure she could still use some financial support. And it's hard to think of a more worthy cause than African babies and a pretty girl named Jenn.

THINGS I DID TODAY TO PUT OFF BLOGGING:
Eat a brownie bite
Go to a party
Wrap a present
Read Dwell magazine
Cringe over poorly written captions in Dwell magazine
Take a nap
Drink a latte
Drink a beer
Look up stuff I'd like to buy on the Internet
Make fun of David and Jimmy's Wii bowling

THINGS I DID NOT DO TO PUT OFF BLOGGING:
Spend money

RESULT: Success!

So, I've decided to take an optimistic look at recent "backsliding." I've been beating myself up over my financial struggles for, oh, about eight years now, and all it's gotten me is more in debt. So I'm chosing not to see this as a Cheap Women failure.

Instead, I'm trying to identify some of the reasons I've struggled over the past few weeks at actually spending less and keeping track of where my money's going.

First, I keep spending all my tip money. Each week, I get this little envelope labeled with my name -- inside is cash! It's like a secret present every week, and for some reason I don't feel like this money "counts" in my spending. So, starting tomorrow, I'm going to try to deposit my tip money in the bank immediately (except for $10, which I'll use as spending money).

"Secondably," I don't feel very accountable to keep track of money. Sure, this whole blogging thing represents a certain level of progress on that front. But I'm not actually posting what I'm spending, am I? To solve that, Elisa and I have agreed to post our spending at the end of this month and then once a week. If I skip a few days, I can pretty easily reconstruct them and I'm still on track for the week.

As for tracking my spending this month, I know how much I've spent because I've only used money from the aforementioned magic tip envelopes. But I don't know where it went (okay, it went to Al's and the Purple Onion ... but I don't know specifically how much or what days). I'll have to file those expenses under "temporary insanity" or something.

Third, I keep eating out because I'm tired and don't want to prepare meals. The food doesn't even taste good anymore, and I'm sick of it. In the next few days I'm going to try hard to find a time to prepare several meals and freeze them so I don't grab convenience foods. (I know freezing food in Tupperware sounds very 1970s housewife, but this method has worked very well for me in the past.)

So here I go ... back on the wagon, or the train, or insert your own trite expression involving a method of transportation.

SHOUT OUTS (Forgive me if I miss you ... I'm a little behind)
O.Z. ... for the delicious Blue Moon Cheese
Lyndsay ... for the best granola I've ever had -- I eat it every day!
Heather ... for several home-cooked meals

We know you're all wondering why we didn't post this weekend. Thanks for staying strong and holding tight and pulling through and whatever else it took to make it without a Saturday blog.

We didn't forget you; we were just busy with the first installment in the Official Cheap Women Guide to Party Planning. It'll be up shortly, so break out the glitter and gluesticks and get ready to craft a truly cheap holiday season.

My sister's in town, so this post is kind of nostalgic I guess.

Our family didn't have a lot of money when Courtenay and I were growing up. We lived in this sketchy old house in the middle of an ailing neighborhood (the house next store to us was abandoned, then set on fire by squatters ... across the street lived a crack dealer ... that sort of thing). For awhile, we couldn't afford groceries and we got our food through hand-outs from the church.

Luckily, my family is almost perversely creative. Each week, Mom would unpack the church bags and realize there was nothing "fun" for us to eat (fruit roll-ups, candy bars, etc.). So she would take a really small Tupperware and add, say, a spoonful of brown sugar with a pat of butter, a marshmallow and some chocolate chips. Then she heated it in the microwave for just a few seconds and we would eat it with these tiny little plastic spoons that we'd kept out of a Sweet and Low box. This family favorite was called Candy Bar Soup. (We also used to scoop up snow from outside, drizzle it with syrup and eat it like ice cream ... but I think that's more of a winter snow tradition than a cost-cutting idea.)

Then there's the Enchanted Alley. Our dad used to take us on bike rides to the park, and if we were lucky we'd get to go down this magical alley on the way. The place had all these amazing things in it: mattresses, old toilet seats, bags of tin cans. My dad used to make up stories about the Enchanted Alley. He made sure we knew that we could only go into the Enchanted Alley with a guide (him), and that we were never to let our feet touch the ground (get off our bikes) or stop ... so that the magic would stay in tact, of course. It wasn't until years later that I figured out that the so-called Enchanted Alley was an abandoned street where a bunch of people came to throw their trash.

I can think of very few childhood memories that include spending money. Instead, they all center on being creative. I don't know if Cheap Women is extreme or long enough for me to totally reclaim that magic of childhood, when I cared so much about stories and family, not about electric bills and grocery budgets. But with luck (or enchantment), I may stumble on a new cheap tradition that actually endures, like the Enchanted Alley or Candy Bar Soup.

It's 5:07 in the morning, and I'm going to be at work (pretty much) until 7 tonight. A shift that long at Starbucks would, I think, literally kill me. No worries, I'm not pulling some sort of macchiato marathon ... I took a second job.

I'm going back to work part-time at the bookstore I used to manage. So I'll be going straight from serving coffee to selling books, for about 12 hours a day. This might be stupid/crazy. But I'm kind of looking forward to it.

I think part of the reason I've been so bummed out about Cheap Women lately is that I've felt kind of passive about it ... I've been sitting around the house trying not to spend money. I'm looking forward to doing something that will actually bring in some of that cash that I'm trying so hard to hoard.

I took the job on sort of a probationary basis (the store is the one on probation ... I'm the, I don't know, warden?). I told them I'd work for two weeks (because they're sort of in a tight spot) and then I'll decide if I really have the time to work through Christmas.

I'm scared about going back to the store, which was once so important to me, and which I was really hurt by when I left (unappreciation, underpay, etc.). But I really miss bookselling, so maybe it'll be okay. Or maybe I'm just being naive ... we'll see.

Today I made my first batch of Cheap Women Soup. (I made a soup with all the vegetables that were on the verge of going bad ... sounds delicious, I know.)

I'll let you know how it turned out tomorrow, because today I've been sick and haven't been able to keep food down. And, yes, that's probably more than you wanted to know, but it's necessary in order to garner sympathy for such a short post. Feel sorry for me! I'm sick! I have no blogging energy!

So, somewhat unsurprisingly, keeping a blog that focuses primarily on a huge personal weakness that you'd kind of rather keep hidden has its drawbacks. One is that your parents read it and call you all worried-like (Hi Mom! Hi Dad!).

Another is that opening up about your mistakes kind of invites people to comment on them. As soon as I admit something in a blog -- like having too much clutter in my apartment or eating too many french fries or being competitive -- it feels like open season for mocking me for it.

I understand this logic, and I even kind of agree with it. It's kind of like celebrities who complain about paparazzi but want the other trappings of success (I'm totally the Paris Hilton of Cheap Women). It makes sense that, if I'm going to create a contest and a website and a blog about a topic, than I should be prepared to face scrutiny. But that doesn't mean it's not hard to hear people spitting my failures back at me and acting like it shouldn't hurt.

I have a friend who's trying to quit smoking. He's mentioned this to a few people, and mostly their way of helping is to yell at him whenever he pulls out a cigarette. "You need to quit smoking!" they say.

Well, obviously. He's the one who pointed out that he needs to quit. But it's a hard thing to do, and he doesn't feel totally ready yet, and when people yell at him about it he ends up feeling more stressed out and judged and abandoned, and then he wants cigarettes more.

I feel just like that when one of my friends "reminds" me that I need to have a garage sale. Well, guess what? I know I need to have a garage sale. I'm the one who told you I needed to have a garage sale. When you bring it up, it just stresses me out. And, when I get stressed out, I want to buy stuff, not get rid of it.

I admit that my apartment is too cluttered. But there's a story behind everything I have (and I'll repeat them, ad nauseum), so "simplifying" means throwing away memories, not just things. I do not understand why anyone thinks it's cool to come into my home, which I've obviously put effort into making nice, and make me feel like it looks trashy.

I would really like for someone to just tell me I'm doing well. To tell me that's it's actually kind of responsible (albeit in a weird, someone narcissistic way) to admit my financial trouble and try to change it. I love it when my friends buy me dinner, and I really appreciate it. But it also be great if people could use their words to support me, not to underscore my failures.

EDITED AFTER A GOOD NIGHT'S SLEEP: I want to acknowledge that most people have been supportive. I have a tendency to take negative comments too seriously, and I can get kind of melodramatic about them. I'm going to leave this post up, though, because it does represent how I feel ... but I understand that I'm being emotional, not logical.

SHOUT OUTS
Cal ... for lunch
Jen ... for "Santa Face" Soup. It was amazing!
Jimmy ... for all your chips and dip. Sorry!

People keep asking me how Cheap Women is going. Lately, the answer is: boring. That's right. Turns out saving all kinds of money isn't as thrilling as one might hope. I don't really have a reason to be bored. I actually have plenty that needs to be done, like making Christmas presents and rallying the troops (in this case "the troops" refers to "all my extra stuff") for a garage sale.

I've been dealing with all this pseudo-boredom by pretty much avoiding the contest. Elisa's receipt box is shaming me because ... confession time ... I have not been saving my receipts. Okay, I have, but I've sort of been stuffing them into my bag, and they're all mixed up with old receipts and notes and gum wrappers. Kind of indecipherable.

The truth is, I like spending money without thinking about it. Maybe it's self-destructive, maybe it makes me feel rich, maybe I'm just lazy. But part of the joy of going to the Purple Onion is not paying attention to how much it costs. (Don't worry, I actually do know exactly how much money I've spent. I only spent money out of a tip envelope from two weeks ago. I know how much was in it, and I know how much is left, so I don't feel I've cheated the contest.)

I'm not certain of the exact spending breakdown, but it looks a lot like this: Al's, Al's, Ben Jr.'s BBQ, Waffle House, Al's, Al's, Purple Onion, Purple Onion, Purple Onion (I had a ranch fries craving, shut up), Burger King. And there goes $50, all because I'm lazy and I like late-night mediterranean food.

All this to say, I've been on a vacation of sorts from Cheap Women for about a week now, if I'm being honest (and if blogging isn't honest, I don't know what is ... ha ha). I'll admit I don't regret it. But I do want to get back on the wagon, so to speak.

SHOUT OUTS
Jimmy ... for the new Tegan and Sara album, yay
Jenn ... for the apple
Heather ... for the rice crispy treat

Here are some games and assorted activities I have invented to keep my mind off not spending money. I think most are self-explanatory, but if you need exposition just leave a comment. (Actually, leave a comment anyway. They make me happy.)

1. Loaf Cake Punt and Short Cup Derby (drop-kicked Chocolate Cinnamon Bread, pictured)
2. Water Drinking Competitions
3. Inventing recipes out of broken pastries (Classic Parfait = Crumbles of Classic Coffee Cake + Banana + Whipped Cream + Caramel)
4. Hello Kitty Uno Championship of Champions
5. Teaching Bain to use the cash register so I don't have to ring up customers
6. Throwing caution to the wind
7. Critiquing sermons and peppering my dialogue with obscure scripture references (because being judgmental and snarky is what Christianity is all about, right?)
8. Wallowing in self pity
9. Beer Boggle
10. Recruiting employees into Starbucks' web of capitalism


SHOUT OUTS
Carrigans ... for more beer and corn nuggets than I could possibly eat (& drink)
Jenn ... for a Waffle House tip
John ... for gas to Fairhope