Saturday, January 26, 2013

$30 Lunches & $10 Teas

I do not enjoy spending money. There, I said it.  I loathe shopping and only step foot inside a store, or worse, a mall, if I can't order what I need online. It's just not my thing. It never has been.

Growing up, my mother pressured me into countless mother-daughter trips with the promise of lunch. I usually caved, and the all-day retail hell usually ended with a few plastic bags holding clothes that didn't really fit and that I didn't really like, along with a CD I absolutely needed, one that would become my latest object of obsession, lyrics printed on a crisp sheet of cloud paper in a stylish font and taped to my congested bedroom wall. I bet if I traveled back to my adolescent closet and tallied the monetary total of never-removed clothing tags, Mama Lloyd would refuse to ever buy me a Christmas or birthday present again (Just kidding. My mother loves me and better continue to send me presents and cards on all future holidays and birthdays.). My thrift store clothes, however, I wore. I sported them until the holes grew too large and exposed my young, chubby skin, until the the previous owner's armpit stains mixed with my own and became intolerable. Yes, Sally and I spent many Saturdays combing the odorific racks of the local Salvation Army. Sure, she would buy me anything from American Eagle Outfitters, Deb Shop or The Limited, but I guess I didn't want to look like every other girl in school. Oh, and I was fat, too. So that kind of abolishes the fun element in clothing shopping. On top of my large frame, stepping out in size 11 feet doesn't make for a fun day of shoe shopping, either.

I Am Pure at Cafe Gratitude, Venice
Nowadays, still overweight but notably healthier, I continue to spurn shopping. But I do revel in buying presents for others, as well as consciously spending the bulk of my money (aside from rent) treating myself to healthy, clean food and purchasing eco-friendly, non-toxic products. The ways in which humans prioritize their spending fascinates me -- even my own.

Now, let's remember three things: I grew up in York, Pennsylvania, I live in Los Angeles and I'm a pescetarian. I'm not going to stretch my dietary label and deem myself vegetarian or vegan just to appear trendier, healthier and better than you. Yes, I eat fish, eggs and cheese. So no, I am not a vegetarian or a vegan, though the majority of the time I eat like one or the other. Please let this be a reminder to you, dear reader, to carefully label your eating habits. You're not a vegan if you don't always eat cheese or only consume seafood on special occasions. The same applies to you so-called "vegetarians." If you feed on fish, no matter how infrequently, you are not a vegetarian. *Steps down from soapbox.

Given my eating habits and environment, I naturally take advantage of the many tempting vegan and vegetarian dining options at my tongue. Cafe Gratitude, Mendocino Farms, Seed, Veggie Grill, Native Foods and Real Food Daily are all located within close proximity to my Venice dwelling, and I will never forbid myself from enjoying said eats on a weekly basis, no matter my financial situation. I'm a writer, which translates to "I'm poor." But that hasn't stopped me from living, and one way I live is by enjoying good, clean, honest food. Sure, I'd suffer a pang of regret if I spent $30 on lunch somewhere that didn't offer local, vegan fare and that didn't ask me the question of the day, but my I Am Courageous, I Am Thankful and I Am Pure at Cafe Gratitude, paired with the priceless company of a good friend, was totally worth the money yesterday afternoon. I also have a healthy love affair with Daiya cheese. I buy $9 boxes of tea at Whole Foods. It's healing, organic, Fair Trade, sustainable and eco-responsibly packaged, and I reuse the tea bags because that's how I roll.

I make up for my heavy treat spending by rarely, and I mean rarely, buying clothes, shoes, gadgets and material possessions for myself. I'm 29, single and without kids, a car payment and a mortgage. I drive a 1985 BMW. It cost me $1,100 in 2006. I do what I want. I buy what I need. I purchase $30 face wash, $25 mineral concealer, $30 mascara and $10 bottles of shampoo and conditioner at Whole Foods. My eyeshadow costs $36, my eye tonic $70. The list of safe ingredients on the usually recycled packaging sits well with my conscience. These are the things I choose to spend my money on, to prioritize as most important to me -- aside from travel -- and I will never sacrifice my health for financial reasons again. It will only come back to haunt me years down the road. Again.

I choose to live simply, to be a minimalist, to indulge. I choose to laugh, to love, to eat. I choose to live in a land where property prices make me cry (literally). All of this because I choose to live. And you should, too, however you find fit. I think we'll both live a lot longer if we do.