Binge, and purge

I've been wanting a lot of stuff lately. iPhone, Mac Mini, $200 shoes, a dozen new books, fancy yarns, fancy new sheets, new digital camera... I have made a long list. And my impulsive purchases this week, however practical and environmentally friendly, have certainly only fueled the materialist fire. I am a consumerist bulimic: simultaneously binging and purging; indulging and minimizing.

I am known to buy absurd amounts of crap one month, and donate it all to charity the next. I do a full closet cleaning at least twice a year, eliminating anything I've not worn or used in the past six months, or do not see myself wearing in the foreseeable future, as I voraciously procure stuff to replace the stuff I so adamantly purged.

I spent an hour looking up the roots and variations on 'lent' this evening (I love the OED). Lent, of course, the Catholic preparation for the Easter feast -- fasting long since giving way to the giving up of one dear thing; its presence in words like 'violent' and 'relentless;' its relation to Narcissus. The root is rich with innuendo.

In December, I sold all my CDs on half.com. Currently, I'm giving up some of my most beloved objects, in an effort to consolidate: TiVo is for sale on ebay, as is my DVD player, and I'm canceling cable. That's right -- I'm giving up television! 90% of the shows I watch are available for free on the network's website, and since I only get network television now anyway, there's very little reason for me to continue paying $20/mo for something that I can fully receive for free.

Of course, the sale of my antiquated gadgets will help fund my binging on pretty new toys, because that is the glory of the interwebs: there is always some fool who wants to spend five dollars on someone else's old junk. For parts, if nothing else. And so, perhaps my old junk will bring some stranger an ounce of new pleasure; and with his dollars I can buy myself some new junk -- purging, binging, and perpetuating the consumerist cycle.