Addictions

I thank my lucky stars that I never became addicted to cigarettes, and while I am a social drinker, I am clearly not an alcoholic. But I think everyone has some kind of addiction, whether it be your typical "vice" or something that seems so innocuous. For me, that something is travel mugs from Starbucks.

A few years ago, I was happy with my washed up Einstein Bagels plastic coffee mugs. They were cheap, they were portable, what more could you ask for? But one day, I sprang for the more expensive Starbucks tumbler, and I have not looked back. Everytime there is a holiday, I am on the hunt for new Starbucks travel mugs. Will they have a new design for Easter this year? What about Valentine's Day? I must find out. I currently have about 20 of these things. The only thing slowing me down is the idea that at some point most of the mugs go on sale. For instance, I was happy to wait to buy the spider web and bat designs on November 1, when they were half price. I currently have three candy-cane striped designs, and I use them year round. And this becomes a challenge. On February 15, I searched in vain for the travel mug with the hearts and the pink lid. It was not meant to be, but that did not stop me from going out of my way to case four different Starbucks. When I am at an airport Starbucks in another city, I am always looking for the Starbucks mug of that city. It's sort of like when I collected Hard Rock Cafe shirts, only much more pathetic.

What causes us to have these stupid addictions? Granted, I actually use all of my mugs, but I could just as easily remember to take them home everyday, and get by with just two or three. It is always a pain to find a place for them in the cupboard. And yet, my quest for new designs and colors continues.

For me, at least I know it is inherited. My mom develops similar types of addictions. One day, she was in a T.J. Maxx and found these wooden carved ducks (spelled dcuk) with name tags. I think there were at least six different characters at that store, and she decided she had to have them all, even though she had no idea what she would do with them. She got up to the high school cashier boy, who gave her a look, to which she responded in deadpan, "I have a lot of ducks." She then went through this whole dilemma of what to do with the ducks. Sure, it was a "good deal," given that they normally retail for $30 each and she got them at half of the price, but does she really need more chatchkis in the house? Shouldn't she just take them back? Well you can guess what happened. Not only did she decide not to take them back, but she couldn't wait to hit the T.J. Maxx near my house to find more.