Extreme Cheapskate?

Okay, first off, I do not watch that show (anymore), because frankly, some of those people are flipping disgusting.  I do not want to live in a world in which dental floss is re-used.  *shudder*

Now, there are things that I spend money on, without reservation.  The cats, for one.  I firmly believe that once you take a pet into your home, it is your responsibility to care for that pet, for better and for worse.  (See:  Pony, the five-thousand-dollar cat.)  Also?  Vacations.  When I go on vacation, if I want the lobster, I'm ordering it.  If I want to buy the giant wooden flamingo, I'm doing it.  If I want to go sky-diving (okay, that's never going to happen, but you know what I mean), I'm buying the ticket.
 
But!  I do have some ... cheapskate-ish tendencies.  I'm not proud of it, and sometimes I wonder if I'm a little too thrifty.  I spent many years on the low end of the income scale, and am still not that far from the bottom, so saving money any way I can is second nature to me by now.  But am I too cheap?  You be the judge:

Instead of buying individual bottles of soda, I buy two-liter bottles, and fill up smaller bottles with them. 

Same with snacks for work.  Instead of buying snack-size packs, I buy the big bags and parcel them into baggies.  Oh, and it goes without saying that I brown-bag it.  ALWAYS.

AND I do the "buy the family-pack of meat, portion it out, and freeze it" thing.  Of course.

I can't use up a loaf of bread before it goes moldy, so I freeze it in eight-slice portions and thaw as needed.

I've never had a manicure, or a pedicure, or a massage.  Well, no massage mainly because I don't like being touched by strangers.

The vast majority of my clothes comes from thrift stores.  I also buy furniture at antiques stores; I just picked up an awesome, solid wood, french-provincial style, five-drawer dresser at an antiques store for seventy bucks.  I do have my limits; I will not buy underwear or swimwear (oh, ICK) or upholstered furniture (I do not need bedbugs, thankyouverymuch) used.

Okay, so, the topper has to be garbage service.  My town does not offer municipal garbage collection, so you have to hire an independent hauler, the cheapest of which is twenty bucks a month.  Well, unless I have a ton of fosters, I only put out one bag of garbage a week, which means it would cost FIVE BUCKS A BAG to get rid of my garbage.  I'm sorry, NO.  So!  The city where I work has a pay-as-you-go garbage removal system where you pre-pay for specially marked garbage bags, fill them, and put them out to the curb, as opposed to paying a monthly fee.  The special bags cost seventy-five cents a bag.  Hmmm, do I want to pay five bucks, or seventy-five cents, to get rid of my bag of garbage?  Yep, that's right, I buy the city bags, and my garbage comes to work with me once a week and goes out to the curb at the office.

How about you?  Are you cheap, or are you Dolly Levi?  ("Money, pardon the expression, is like manure. It's not worth a thing unless it's spread around, encouraging young things to grow.")  Enquiring minds want to know.