We have all done it at least once or twice, pass a window and longingly stare at the mannequin dressed better than you -- no shame, no regret. Each person's tastes will run differently, like the Doctor Who themed clothes at Hot Topic catch my eye more than a sleek jacket at Buckle. Either way, both of those items are ridiculously expensive and out of my price range as a college student. With us being right in the middle of the holiday season and Cyber Monday just behind us, we as consumer American's are taking advantage of shopping online.

In the random e-mails cluttering our inboxes, we come across a seemingly harmless ad for some fancy item we want and bang we are there, adding everything from Ebay or Amazon into the cart. Let's get the video game for cousin Ricky or the necklace from the anime show your lab partner watches, which we only know because she talks about it and we obviously have never watched single episode. Maybe buy a set of kitchen knives for mom and bowling ball for dad. Soon enough, we find ourselves pricing cat litter for the lonely "crazy cat lady" down the street. Then we see it, an ad on the side of the page that has that item we've only ever dreamed of having and we click it...

My magical ad takes me to a beautiful website called Think Geek. It is an online retail store that has paraphernalia and clothing for various "geeky" pop-culture icons, from Assassin's Creed to Legend of Zelda and many things in between. My shopping list for this slice of heaven includes the 10th Doctor's coat priced at just about $300 and the 11th Doctor's fez and bow-tie $15, both obviously from the BBC series "Doctor Who." There is also underwear with Assassin compasses and Templar crosses, $30 for a three pack -- that is just the tip of the iceberg.

While my window shopping might not look like your window shopping nor will my online "wishlist" be the same either, I am fairly certain online shopping just leads to despair. When we put all these things in our online "cart" to check the price and begin rationalize food rationing to save money, then we are on the verge of deciding to go without electricity or other utilities. Finally we cave in, going to our landlord or ban, showing them the marvelous trench coat, purses, and kitchenware we bought for an obscene amount of money. They just ogle over our purchases and grant us clemency for missing payments for this month. If only, if only. Instead, with a heavy heart, we copy a link and intentionally send it to our friend who doesn't like this stuff. At first, they will humor us a moment but then convince us not to starve ourselves to buy the new underwear. This is the tragedy of online window shopping.