Oh, hello! Come in. Have some tea. And I finally filled the candy dish again, so have at it.
I’m pretty sure that I have stated on here before that I SUCK at managing money. (I would go back and put a link to a previous post, but I’m too lazy. So, you can either look back, or just take my word for it. I suck.)
I have a few theories as to why it is that I suck at it so much, but I won’t go into those here. Suffice it to say, if I have cash in my wallet (or tossed in the bottom of the suitcase I call a purse), I will spend it. On what? It doesn’t matter. Anything. Everything. I wouldn’t even be able to tell you what 2 days later. It’s really pathetic.
About a year ago, I cut up my credit cards. It was traumatic and scary and hard and horrible and the best thing I have done for myself in a long time. (I still had balances, mind, but at least I could no longer ADD to those balances. Just go with it.) Honestly, if I had to do it again, I would. But I would keep one card. Because it is really hard to live in this world with no plastic.
What that little exercise in self-control has taught me is that if I don’t have the $ in my checking account, I can’t buy it. Whatever “it” is – food, entertainment, whatever. I am not always successful at sticking to that rule, and the amount of money I have actually given to my bank in the form of overdraft fees is staggering, but I am learning and getting better at it as I go.
So, why this story of woe on a Friday morning? Well, last week, I think it was Wednesday, I discovered that, yet again, I was overdrawn. And I had $1 in my wallet. Literally, one dollar. Oh. My. Goat. What was I going to do?? I couldn’t buy a coffee, or lunch, or stamps, or groceries. I had 10 days before I got paid again. Have I mentioned how much I suck at money? S.U.C.K.
With no choice, I had to eat whatever I had in the cupboard/fridge/freezer. I had to resort to the free coffee at work (with that powdered creamer crap) (which, BTW, GROSS) or nothing at all. There were no snacks, no nips to the cafe downstairs for a muffin or scone or salad. So much for my new goal of eating more healthful foods and cutting down on carbs and starches. I lived with a hunger headache and a rumbly tum. I dug deep into the bottom of my suitcase purse for spare change for an emergency Hershey bar yesterday.
But I made it. Today, I was able to walk into the grocery store across the street to get something for breakfast and know that I had the cash to pay for it. It was exciting. But, do you know what? I didn’t want most of it. I had a new perspective on the overwhelming number of options. I still have to go grocery shopping tonight, to stock up on food, and to replenish my larder, but I think my choices will be much more carefully made.
There were some good things to come out of this inadvertent experiment:
- I was finally able to clear out all the stuff in my freezer/cupboards that I had purchased, but didn’t feel like eating. You know the stuff. Pasta, rice, popcorn, whatever leftovers you may have frozen to “have later”. CLEAN START!
- I lost 9 pounds. That, right there, should tell you something. Clearly, I was eating too much.
- I learned that I really didn’t have to eat if I was bored/sad/depressed/stressed/happy. I could really only eat 3 meals a day. No snacking. And? I DIDN’T DIE. I didn’t (couldn’t) use food to mask those feelings. I ate when I was really hungry (read: dizzy and headachey), and that was it.
- I learned that I didn’t need to eat so much. I had to eat smaller portions in order to make the food last longer.
- I learned that powdered coffee creamer? Just as gross as I remembered.
- I learned that I don’t *have* to have dessert. But I just wanna.
- I learned that I really can live, and do it maybe not well, but sufficiently, without spending every last cent. It’s okay to NOT go to the drug store and buy magazines or whatever. Or to turn on the Kindle and download the 36 books that I have seen recommended lately that I now want to read. I can read the books I already have (that I haven’t read before) and discover “Oh, yeah! That’s why I bought that!”
- Oh, yeah, and I’m all set with carbs and starches for a while. Thanks.
So, I know this post started out about money and ended up about food. But, I found that the lack of one really impacts the other. This past 10 days has been hard and while I wouldn’t recommend anyone letting themselves get into the position I did, I would recommend trying to not spend money for a week on those little things that seem to so easily add up. And also, go through your stores of prepackaged foodstuffs and use that stuff up. Start over without all that stuff that really isn’t good for you. Maybe it would be better to just toss it, or to just NOT buy it in the first place, but you know what I mean.
And that cup of Chibani yogurt this morning? SO. FREAKING. GOOD!!!!! (If you haven’t tried this stuff? Holy crap. The best Greek yogurt out there, IMO. Seriously.) And it filled me up. I never thought I could be satisfied with just a yogurt, but I am. (If someone put a plate of bacon and eggs in front of my, I wouldn’t say no, mind. But I’m comfortable with just the yogurt for now.) This may be the start of something big for me. *fingers crossed*
Oh, and that dollar in my wallet? Yep. I still have it.
Oh, hello! Come in and have coffee and a sticky bun.
Sorry for the title. I may have been channeling Brigit Jones…
I say that this is more for the single folks than for people who have a partner, but perhaps it’s just because that is the perspective from which I am writing. IDK. You can judge for yourself.
Most of the time, I consider myself self-sufficient. I guess I have to be, since there isn’t anyone there to do “it” for me. I am responsible for my bills, for my house, and the maintenance of that house, my cats and their upkeep, and on and on. And most of the time, I am fine with that. I have to be, of course, but it really is true.
Then there are other times… I get sick to death of cleaning the house, mowing the lawn, shovelling the snow, doing laundry, etc. But, in my case, there is no one there to pick up the slack for me. This is where the smug marrieds have an advantage. They can look at their partner and ask/beg/nag for help, and there is a probability that the partner will do it, even if it’s not done the way they would want.
But, here is where I feel I need to clarify. I *know* that being part of a couple does not mean that each member of the pair is not self-sufficient. They are (usually).
I’m not saying this very well. But in my usual mode of just putting things out there without spending too much time picking nits, here it is.
My theory is that it is harder for singletons to ask for help than it is for the smug marrieds. And why do I think that? Because I live it. Every. Damn. Day. My feeling is that when I ask someone for help, it becomes another item on their “To Do” list. The people I could ask for help have their own lives and problems and chores and bills. And while that is also true of coupledom, at least the person you might ask for help ALSO has a vested interest in your happiness. They aren’t solely responsible for it, of course, but they see you every day and want what you want. Hopefully.
So, when is it okay to ask for help? I’ve never been clear on when it is appropriate. There have been times in the winter, when I’m out moving snow, that I have just said F*CK IT, and flagged down a passing truck with a plow and begged them to clear my driveway. But then, I am throwing money at them, so it is win-win.
Overall, I suck at asking for help. I get frustrated, then overwhelmed, then turn into a sobbing mess, and come out the other side a little bruised, but moving forward anyway. I could maybe avoid all that by asking for help sooner, but how do I ask without it being an imposition? Without becoming a nuisance? Without appearing weak? Without feeling indebted?
What do *you* do? Do you ask for help? How did you learn to do it or is it something that comes naturally?
Help!
Oh, hello! Come on in and have some iced tea.
There’s something wrong with me. Mentally. I’m convinced of it. Someone here at the Gas ‘n Sip just invited me to his child’s first birthday party. I almost started crying.
This is strange for many reasons.
- Crying? Really?
- I don’t enjoy children, typically.
- I don’t enjoy socializing with circus work folks, typically.
- Crying? Really?
Thank goat I decided to take this Friday and Monday off. Evidently, I need a nap. Or, you know, a smack in the head.
Oh, hello! Come on in and have a taste of blueberry pie. But watch the stains on your teeth. I have extra toothbrushes for those who need them.
*****
A quick hello to Mr. Farty! I think you commented for the first time. I will be honest – I SQUEEd when I saw your comment… including the fart. Welcome to my very neglected blog.
*****
I haven’t been around much. Not for any major or catastrophic reason though. More as a function of the fact that I really didn’t think I had anything to say. And if *I* think I’m boring, I certainly don’t want to subject *you* to that. You’re welcome.
*****
K2Kid and I went to see SATC2. Oh. Mah. Gah. If you haven’t seen it yet, and are thinking about it, or thinking about waiting to get it on DVD, don’t even bother. It was that bad. It was forced, and contrived, and it tried WAY to hard. The ladies have NOT aged well… or at least the cameras made it seem that way. Samantha is still slutty, Charlotte is still a goody-goody, Carrie is still nagging Big, and Miranda is still icky. This isn’t even a fun, rainy-day movie that you could pop in for something mindless. Save yourself $9 and 2 hours and watch the first one again. Or watch Mamma Mia. At least those two were fun. And mindless.
*****
My seeming year of reading memoirs continues with “The Year We Disappeared” by Cylin Busby and John Busby. It’s the story of John and what happens to him and his family after he gets shot in the face on the way to work one night. He was a cop on Cape Cod. The chapters switch back and forth from John to Cylin, who is John’s daughter. She was 9 at the time this happened. Her chapters are written from the perspective of her 9-year-old self. His chapters are told from his perspective at that time. The shooting occurred in 1979. Overall, it was an interesting story and it read very fast. I would have liked to hear more about the wrong cops who failed to properly investigate, but I guess that might be another story. I’d give it 7 out of 10.
*****
I was going to do a post about how this year I have decided to embrace my “girliness”. You know, more dresses, matching unmentionables, high heels, better makeup, blah blah blah. But then the week that causes me to HATE being a girl happened and blew that out the window. Maybe another time.
*****
I have been participating in an online class workshop exercise something that is meant to encourage participants to take more time to rest and play and generally enjoy life. The purpose is to be kinder to yourself and ultimately get more out of your life. What have I learned so far? I have no idea how to play.
*****
What else….. I don’t know. I guess that is it for…. OH!
*****
I’ve been thinking about NaNoWriMo. I only found out about it last year in the last week of October, so I had no time to prepare. It’s a writing event, designed to encourage free writing of quantity over quality. 50,000 words in 30 days with no editing. It’s a wonderful way to stretch your creative muscles and write a novel in a month. I signed up last year and only made it to about 15,000 words. And what started out as a “novel”, with a “plot line”, devolved into more of an online journal. And it was BAD!
So I’ve been thinking about it for this year. And I thought I would start to develop an outline or at least characters on which to build a story. Yeah. I think any writing creativity has left the building. I know I should “write what I know” but if I am to base a story on my life? SNOOZE FEST!!! I will likely be skipping the even this year. But I will be there cheering on others who I know are participating!!
*****
Okay. That’s it. I’m done. Have a lovely day.
Oh, hello! Come in for some cornbread. It’s still warm.
Anyone who talks to me knows that I love me some Twitter. I spend way too much time on it and tweet about anything. Well, maybe not anything. I don’t reveal anything about farting or pooping or my (lack of) sex life. I think Twitter is fun and a good distraction.
What I don’t like, and has really been irritating me lately, is when other Tweeters bitch/moan/complain about, or generally belittle their parents/spouse/kids. I get that there are frustrations and people need a place to vent. But I don’t know if Twitter is an appropriate forum for that. In my opinion, talking about people you love in that way, in such a public forum, shows an enormous lack of respect, both for them and for yourself. Actually, talking about them in that manner in any forum is disrespectful. I can see venting to your friends when necessary. We need to be able to release frustrations, but some of what I’ve seen on Twitter is beyond venting. It makes me extremely uncomfortable.
Also what I’ve seen is people tweeting about REALLY intimate things. Beyond farting and pooping. (Hee… “pooping” is a funny word!) I don’t know that I need or want to hear about your sex lives and who (or what) you are hooking up with or anything else along those lines. Again, I think there is a time and a place for that, and a public forum like Twitter, in my opinion, isn’t it.
And finally, the cussing! Don’t get me wrong – I can and do cuss with the best of them. I’m not necessarily proud of that, and I’m conscious of it, but that’s what it is. I also try to be aware of my audience. If I don’t know how people feel about swearing, I try to keep my mouth in check. People on Twitter? Not so much. And if it offends even me? It’s got to be pretty extreme.
So, given all this, you are probably asking: If you don’t like all this stuff about Twitter, why the heck do you stay on it? Well, the above “irritants” don’t happen all the time. And the people who post the things that irritate me don’t post things like that all the time. Much of the time these tweeters are funny and clever and nice.
What’s a girl to do? Do I give up Twitter to avoid this type of tweet? Do I unfollow them to avoid seeing them? What is the protocol? If I unfollow them, they will reciprocate. Do I care? Do I just accept that people talk badly about people they love and ignore it? Do I only read the tweets that mention me? Do I point out to them when it happens?
What would you do? What have you done? How do you handle these situations? What is the appropriate Twitter etiquette? I’d love to hear your ideas.
Oh, hello! Welcome. Come and have some beef stew.
A big Mag and Moo welcome to Fiona! HI! *waving*
So, last night, I was in that really deep sleep where waking up feels like you are swimming to the surface through melted Nutella. (Just go with it. I’m hungry.) (But… HOW GOOD WOULD THAT BE? Melted Nutella?? I’m going to have to try that now.)
Anyway. You know the kind of sleep I mean. Well, last night, as I swam to the surface, I thought I heard a very angry baby crying. I was thinking, oh, someone is so not happy. They brought the child outside. But something didn’t sound quite right. The baby’s cry didn’t have that sort of inhale pause.
So I realized it was a cat. Normally, the Wonder Twins each take up a post at the foot of my bed, like matching gargoyles. They keep me safe at night. I start to think that it is one of the Wonder Twins. OMG. What if I left the inside door to the garage open and one of them is hurt!?! I felt around with my feet and felt the 2 solid lumps. Whew.
The crying was outside. And it wasn’t just crying. It was real-live horrific screaming and crying. The poor cat had to have been terribly hurt. Just crying and screaming and wailing. So loud. So forlorn. My heart was breaking. I thought I should get up and go see if I could find the poor little nugget. But, really. What would I do then?
The crying stopped. Whew. But no. Whatever had done the damage came back. There was one final loud cry. Then everything was quiet.
I have no idea what became of the little critter. Or what set the whole thing off.
But I do know that hearing that noise that reached into my head and heart is something I hope to never hear again. It was so tragic.
I get that wild things act like wild things and survival of the fittest and all that. But, JMJ. I gave each of the Wonder Twins an extra hard hug and extra smooch before going back to sleep. And then again before I left for work this morning. I know they sit in the window during the day and watch the world go by. And they might even want to go outside. But last night confirmed to me that having them inside, and spoiling them rotten, is the right decision. I can’t imagine one of them getting killed by something bigger and meaner and never really knowing what happened. Or having them come home, all skun up (skun? It’s a word.) (Yeah huh!) from fighting back. It would break my heart every day. I adopted them to love them.
And I hope to keep doing that for a long, long time.
RIP little wild nugget. I’m sorry it was such a painful death. 😦
This is just a bunch of whining, moaning, complaining. OMG, even *I’m* sick of me. Don’t even bother to read this. Seriously.
2010/06/08Oh, hello! Have a Skinny Cow ice cream cone. Yummy!
This may be a stream of consciousness type post. But I’m serious. Stop reading.
I am completely sick of myself. Have you ever gotten to that point? (You can’t answer, because you stopped reading up there when I recommended it.) Judas priest. It seems like there should be more. A better job. Less fear. More confidence – in myself, my abilities, my life. More… Just more.
And despite how much time I spend thinking about how to make that happen, or reading about how to make that happen, or wishing to make that happen, it seems that all end up doing is whining about it more. It’s like I’m sick of where I am but afraid to move on or try for more. So then it becomes my fault for not doing something, and then OH MY GOD! JUST SHUT UP ALREADY!!!!
I want to be thin. I want to write. I want to be in a happy relationship. I want I want I want. Well, then DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!! STOP TALKING ABOUT IT AND JUST START.
Why is it so hard for me (or, I suspect, many people) to make changes – positive changes – in my life? Is it fear only? Fear of the unknown? Fear of leaving what is comfortable?
I mean, really. What is the worst thing that can happen? I fail? I don’t lose weight? I send out a resume and don’t hear back? SO WHAT! That doesn’t make me a bad person. At least I could say I tried.
I am so sick of being afraid. And I’m so sick of saying this over and over. And I’m so sick of wallowing in my own uncertainty. And I’m so sick of myself right now. UGH.
I need to shake this off. I need to move past this. I don’t know if putting it out here will help. God knows, I haven’t put good use to any of the 47,312 blank journals I have. I have every intention, when I buy them, to write all my deep, dark thoughts in them. Pfft. I put them on the shelf next to all the other good intentions.
But. How do I start? I feel like I am completely out of control in my life. I feel overwhelmed and at a loss. I don’t know where to start or how to start or what to start with. A plan would probably help, but I don’t even know where to start with that either!
God, I’m boring. What’s that Nike slogan? It sounds easy…. but give me a second, and I’m sure I’ll find a way to complicate it and end up completely whipped up and whimpering in the corner.
Oh, hello. Come in and have a cookie.
Floating on the lake
day 5 of kayaking
listening to nothing
but the sound of sun shining.
The wind picked up
and I heard the sound
of the birch leaves
applauding my efforts.
Oh, hello!! Come in and have some seltzer and Greek yogurt.
This post is about what happened later in the day last Thursday. It’s big for me.
So, a while back, the exquisite Debra wrote this post. What does that have to do with me, you wonder? Well, Miss Debra and I are very similar in that we are hermits, love books, and are less than experts at meeting new people. (Debra is FAR nicer than I am, but that’s another post…)
Inspired by my friend, I researched things in *my* area to meet new people and maybe make new friends. I found two groups that interested me. One was a group of women who get together for dinner or hiking or whatever. The other group is co-ed and meet for the same reasons. The co-ed group is NOT a dating group. But I signed up for both thinking that the women’s group would be a good way to get started, with no pressure to date any one. Then, maybe as I get more comfortable, I can do the co-ed group.
It must have been destiny all around, because the first meet-up of the women’s group that I saw was for dinner out at a sushi place. I heart sushi! So, I RSVP’d for the dinner and made the K2Kid RSVP with me. Because OF COURSE I couldn’t go alone. *eye roll* She was going to be my security blanket, just in case these women were horrible.
By Thursday afternoon, I was so tired from the volunteering that I wanted nothing more than to just go home and chill. But… I knew this was a good thing for me to do. I sent K2Kid a text to see if she was still going with me. She bailed. But 1) she had a good excuse; and 2) it was like the mama kicking the baby out of the nest. I had to do this on my own.
At dinner, there were 6 strangers. There was a real-estate agent, a nurse, a hairdresser, a fitness instructor, an executive recruiter, and … dang. I can’t think of what the last lady did. We ate. We talked. We laughed. We told stories. And we tried to decide what a good next meet-up would be.
And, do you know what? I didn’t die. I didn’t melt. I didn’t sit in my house, by myself, thinking that I *ought* to have been doing something. I am so glad that I did it. And while it may not be a big deal for many people, it was a huge deal for me, and I am so proud of myself.
The best part? I’m looking forward to doing it again. YAY ME!
Oh Hello! Come in. Sorry about the dust and cobwebs. I’ll tidy up. But have some pasta salad.
I haven’t been around. I didn’t have much to say for a while. Now it seems I have a whole bunch of things, and hope I remember all of it so I can get it down here.
Let’s see… Last Thursday, I participated in the UW Day of Caring by helping to beautify the local YMCA. Weeding, mulching, etc. It was a long day, with a lot of work, but I’m glad I did it. While I was weeding, one of the residents came over to “help” me. Recently, the city closed a YWCA, so there are women living there too. So, this resident that came over to help me – I never did get her name – was very nice. I’m pretty sure she was a little bit crazy, but she seemed nice enough. She was telling me about her huge house 2 towns over, and the house on the beach in another state. Yes, she lives at the shelter and goes to another shelter for her food. She has a 15-year-old daughter with whom she doesn’t get along.
Then she started telling me about her husband, and how he beat her. She worked 2 jobs while he went to school, so now he’s educated and she’s not. And for some reason, she seems to think she can’t go to school now.
While she’s telling me all this, part of me was screaming in my head – I JUST WANT TO WEED!! I CAN’T HANDLE ALL THIS INFO!! But I tried to be sympathetic and most of all, just listen. I think that’s what she wanted most of all. I know that much of what she said was probably not true. And that’s okay. She wanted someone to listen to her.
She must have thought I was nice, too, because she went inside and brought out Minnesota. What? Yeah, Minnesota is a kitten. Probably 6 months old. Double paws. White with 2 different color eyes. OH EM GEE. What a sweet little boy. She was very proud of her little boy.
So, I’ll admit that my initial reason for volunteering for DoC was to get the day off from work, and also to add to my list of volunteerism. That is now part of my annual review – how much I help in the community.
But after that day? I have a new perspective. It is very easy to see a homeless person and marginalize them; avert your eyes; walk by without “seeing” them. But they all have a story. They all have a past. They all came from somewhere. What’s that saying? There but for the grace?
I’m not saying that I’m going to go sign up to work with the homeless or volunteer at the shelter. But it’s nice to get a new perspective and to see things from outside my comfort zone once in a while. I appreciate what I have so much more.
MagAndMoo's Blog 