In which Shari writes an entire entry about notebooks

We're trying to watch our spending these days; there are certain expenses we need to allow for before the new baby is born (a new bed and dresser for Suzannah, a cloth diaper stash, a doula, etc.) and we're trying to plan for the tighter budget we'll need to follow when I'm not earning any income for at least eight or nine months. I bought all of my school supplies last spring, so I can bypass my usual school shopping this fall. However, if you've ever spent five minutes around me, you know I have this serious thing for notebooks and pens. I absolutely never leave home without at least one notebook and about twelve pens. Which is why Levenger is kind of a dangerous catalog for me to get. They sell "Tools For Serious Readers." And heeey! I'm a Serious Reader! I need their stuff.

Except that most of it is really high-end, expensive stuff. It's good stuff, but I can't quite justify spending $200 or more for the sexy leather book bag I want. (I don't care about "purses" or "handbags." I also don't care that the sexy leather book bag -- did I mention it's red? -- is essentially a purse or handbag, but they advertise all its room for BOOKS and NOTEBOOKS!) Especially since the only bags I'll be carrying for awhile will be diaper bags. Not that you can't find great diaper bags, but I'm not about to spend two hundred bucks on one of those, either. Nor can I justify spending sixty dollars on a fancy rollerball pen, especially when I have a fondness for a very specific kind of blue Papermate -- which come twelve to a box at Office Max.

A few years ago, I did splurge on an expensive journal. It would have been the most expensive journal I'd ever bought in my life, but it was on clearance for over 50% off. And I loved it. Blank books, notebooks, journals -- those are truly my weakness. I'm always on the lookout for the "perfect" notebook, and when I find it, I buy it. I've filled several leather journals from Barnes and Noble and I love Moleskines, even though people complain that they're overpriced for what they are. Don't care -- still love them.

Last week, I was flipping through my Levenger catalog -- usually I do this quickly and toss it in with our recyclables so I'm not tempted to accidentally order a Pelikan Tradition R200 Rollerball Pen or something -- and the most fabulous set of notebooks caught my eye. Behold:


I wasn't going to do it. I don't, strictly speaking, need any more notebooks.

But I couldn't stop drooling over these babies. They were the perfect size -- large enough to write in comfortably, but small enough to slide into my bag (which I love, and which didn't cost me two hundred dollars). They had the right amount of pages -- not too thick (although it's hard for a great notebook to be too thick for me), not too thin. And the colored paper (which, being from Levenger, I knew would be of high quality) intrigued me.

But I wasn't going to do it. I informed Matt quite virtuously that I would not be buying these notebooks EVEN THOUGH I REALLY, REALLY WANTED THEM. LIKE REALLY BADLY. He was like, that's nice, you know I'm not the boss of you. His refusal to acknowledge my SHINING VIRTUE kind of chipped away at my restraint.

The next day I sent the link to Kyanne. Again with the wanting and all of my shining restraint. (Actually, by then I might just have whined, "I waaaaaants it." I can't remember.) Kyanne replied, "Whatever, I would SO have had those forever ago."

And then? I don't know what happened, but my fingers? They were suddenly disconnected from my body or something. I really couldn't stop them. They flew out and just punched in my credit card number and ORDERED THE NOTEBOOKS, and oh crap, I bought them.

And you know what? I didn't regret it. Sometimes when I have an "Oh, crap, I just bought something I don't need" moment, I have this instant pang of regret. I didn't have that with these notebooks. I felt nothing but sheer elation, and the only thing I regretted a few days later was not spending two more dollars for slightly faster shipping, because a week later, as I was still waiting for them to be delivered, I decided I had suffered much more than two dollars' worth of waiting angst. Maybe this is one of those opportunities for a stupid life lesson in patience, except that I am a mother of a three-year-old and soon I will have a newborn, so I'm pretty sure I don't need my journals to teach me about PATIENCE. I know, patience is a virtue, my mother always, always told me that, I HAVE TOTALLY LEARNED. Anyway (and here are my impressive rationalization skills at work), I think I'm a dying breed; I still write as much or more on paper as I do anywhere else, and when I buy quality notebooks and journals I actually do fill them. (I've often thought that perhaps that's why I like writing. It's nothing to do with actually writing, which, let's be honest, can really just suck sometimes, especially when I don't feel like it, but what can be better than cracking open a great notebook in a coffee shop and spending an hour alone there? I ask you.)

I had this whole speech planned for Matt about how I accidentally bought these notebooks, but! I got three of them, and for three, this price isn't bad -- they cost about what Moleskines do, plus shipping, and did I mention I ordered the slowest, cheapest shipping? Even though the wait would likely TORTURE ME?

"Well, I'm glad you're happy with them," Matt said mildly. Then he smiled. "And patience is a virtue."