cheapskate

Okay, I admit it - I'm cheap.

I can sugar coat it all I want by passing it off as frugality and stewardship, but really... I'm just cheap.

I hate to pay full price for anything, which is why I hit clearance racks and garage sales for 90 percent of my wardrobe. I seldom buy groceries unless they're on sale or at a price that I know is rock-bottom and less expensive than I can get anywhere else (like the $4.59 two-pound chunk of Colby Jack at Costco.) I adore Amazon because I can find books (and lots of other stuff) at steep discounts. In fact, the Internet is a big friend of mine when it comes to ordering things like faucets and light fixtures and even my beloved Smartwool socks.

But, what I really, really dislike is paying for haircuts.

Drives me crazy to spend $25 on a trim - sorry but the 30-second head rub that goes along with the hair wash just isn't that great. I never get the result I hoped for. I can never style it the same as the beautician. And I'd rather spend the money on yarn. If it wasn't for this nagging female issue of hating to look frumpy, I'd just grow it all out to my waist and wear a bun for the rest of my life.

For years, I have threatened to do the Sinead O'Connor thing and just shave it all off. I can't imagine the freedom in not having to worry about blow-drying, moussing, flat-ironing or hairspraying. The only thing that keeps me from doing it (other than a slight courage issue) is that people would inevitably think I had cancer. I wouldn't want to have unnecessary pity come my way or make a mockery of those who are bald not by choice.

It's still a tempting option though. And I would save a couple hundred bucks a year.