Career Non-Ambition

When I was at my first job out of college, I took a long, hard look at what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.  It was hard to say, and looking back, I can see why.  I was doing fine for my age, but I had a long way to go in terms of maturity and self-assuredness.  But, I was also really unhappy at my job and I knew I had to figure something out.  Climbing that particular corporate ladder was not going to happen, and for those of you who know which ladder that was, you know how glad I am that I got off.

The day that I found out I was accepted into graduate school was a very happy one.  I got into my dream school- small program, cool city, and a subject matter that really interested me.  But I was more excited to leave my job than anything else.  No more doing work that didn't hold my interest, no more dealing with truly awful bosses, no more feeling underpaid, no more miserable commute.  My co-workers, who I had grown close to, were happy for me, but I knew they were filled with other emotions when I made my announcement.  As supportive as they were in congratulating me, they were also disappointed-- in themselves-- for not taking their own steps to get out of their crappy positions.

I love change.  And in the words of Fiona Apple, I'm good at being uncomfortable.  It is easy for me to identify something about my life I don't like, and therefore, take steps to change it.  I'm not saying I'm an amazing woman of action.  Sometimes the situation you're in in life necessitates that you patiently wait it out.  At the same time, I'm really thoughtful about what I want my life to mean and I feel like every day, I'm working toward it, not just biding my time.

I really enjoy the work I'm doing now, which is not to say that it's perfect.  But I do work from home, which I really love, and I have the time to take care of my home, my husband and my dog, which are my favorite things to do with my spare time.  Obviously, taking care of a home and a family is not very lucrative.  Yet I feel the income I am making at the moment will allow me to devote more and more time to my home in the future.  It may sound kind of insane that my biggest passion in life comes down to child/doggie care, housecleaning, cooking, and decorating-- but it is what it is.  And, I think doing all of that properly is a full-time job.

In thinking about my future and the things that I get out of having a career, I also feel melancholy when considering what I may be giving up.  However, I think helping a family be productive is an extremely important role.  Maybe many women could do it as well as I could while having thriving careers, but I don't think I can, at least not when I'm a young mother (meaning that the kids are young, not me!).  And I like the idea of my time outside the home being completely selfless- volunteering to help those who truly need it. Again, this scenario is not a lucrative one.  But I'd rather make do on less and not feel the pressure of pleasing an unreasonable boss and scheming through workplace politics.  So I guess in the end, my passion is to not have a job.  I don't know how realistic that is these days, but hopefully my future reality can resemble my greatest hopes, if only faintly.

My Life

I never would have guessed that I would have ended up at the company I work for today when I graduated from college almost two years ago. Over the past two years I have developed my professional skills and I have become accustom to working in a corporate setting. While I have had lots of great career opportunities over these past two years, there are so many passions I have outside of work that I would like to dedicate more time to in the future.

I love standing in a mountain river, casting my fishing line, as the cold water rushes across my legs. I love the serene and peaceful atmosphere experienced during long runs on back-wood trails. I love the smiles children get on their faces when time is taken to help with and participate in activities that they really enjoy. I love attending musicals and quietly singing along with the songs as the actors perform on stage. There are so many things that I love doing that I wish I would have spent more time pursuing over these past few years.

My husband always tells me to think about what I REALLY want to accomplish during my life and find a way to pursue those goals. Considering that I am awake roughly 16 hours a day, and roughly 9 hours of this time is spent at work five days a week, it is easy for me to understand how time seems to disappear. While I understand why I have not been pursuing some of the things I love over the past few years as much as I would like, I cannot really accept this fact any longer.

One of my biggest fears in life is that twenty-five years into the future I will look back and have regrets about not accomplishing all that I wanted to during my life. I do not believe that in twenty-five years my life will be over, but my opportunity to accomplish many of my life goals will have vanished. For this reason I have made several promises to myself. I have promised myself that the next professional job I have will be one that I truly have a passion for and that will enable me to pursue something I am passionate about. I have promised myself that my family will always be my first priority, and I will always work hard to keep meaningful relationships with those that I love. I have promised myself that I will do my best to make my children’s dreams become reality, but also dedicate time for my own personal dreams. Lastly, I have promised myself to make a difference in this world, and make a difference in the lives of others.

While there will always be days that seem to drag on forever, overall time passes by far too fast. Before I know it I will be an elderly woman spending more time reflecting on the life I lived, and hopefully spending time with my grandchildren. Before that day comes, many more days will pass. This had led me to an important realization; while I cannot slow the passing of time, I can choose how I will live whatever time I have remaining.

People Say I'm Crazy Doing What I'm Doing

In 2004 I sat down and had a very serious discussion.. With myself.  I was like, "This is ridiculous. You don't like what you do, you don't want to go to law school, you don't even want to be a lawyer!" And I was all, "You're totally right this is ridiculous." And then I broke out into song: "who am I ANYWAY? Am I my RESUME? Which is a picture of a person I DON'T KNOW..." For those who didn't recognize that, it's a song from "Chorus Line," a song I found- and continue to find- completely tragic.

I was a paralegal, and had been for 3 years after graduation. I found my first job listed in the New York Times, classified section. It was at an enormous law firm, where I was placed in a windowless room, filled with hundreds of ancient cardboard boxes, each filled with thousands of dusty sheets of microfilm. The films contained lists of numbers. I was looking for a specific combination of numbers.  Really, I think they just wanted someone to clean up the mess.

My second job was at personal injury/insurance defense firm, where the managing partner spent all his time at the Dojo.  His secretaries would find him there when someone at the courthouse would call to inform us he'd missed all his appearances for the day.  I left before he ran his firm into the ground.  The next job I took was at a large, intellectual property firm with lots of youngish lawyers, who all told me to get out while I still had a soul.  

On top of all this circumstantial pessimism that surrounded me-- I hated paralegal work.  It felt I was pushing paper around, label making, and FedEx'ing.  To complicate things further, I enrolled in an LSAT prep course, and I had no business sitting in that classroom.  It just wasn't for me.

So I had this meeting with myself.  I went into it armed with two bits of wisdom from my favorite gals: Oprah and Madonna.  I had once read an Oprah quote-- that she firmly believes that there's something for everyone on this planet.  Each person has their purpose based on what they're good at.  And everyone is good at something.

I also once read a Madonna quote-- it's not that most people don't know how to get what they want, it's that most people don't know what they want.  

Drowning in paralegal work was sort of like an out-of-body experience.  I didn't really think I was destined for this type of work.  It felt all wrong.  Distracted, I was forgetting what I was good at.  And I couldn't really figure out what I was working toward.  It felt like I was killing time-- until what?  I was lost and I was scared because I knew- this was how people get stuck.  So when I had my one-person conference call, I decided I was going to put all my bets on my strongest offering, my favorite pasttime- my writing.  I decided to apply to journalism school. 

Two years after graduate school, I'm a much happier person.  I don't fully believe that doing what you love and your job have to be two separate notions.  Work is always going to be work, but you don't have to be miserable- if happiness is important to you.  And knowing what you want isn't always the end.  I often re-assess.  J-school got me my first news job-- what's next?  You have to keep asking yourself if you want to keep moving.

The List

There is a deep irony to the fact that I began this post on my BlackBerry while waiting for a metro train well-later than the commuter rush had subsided. My job does lots of things for me- it keeps my mind sharp; on good days, it challenges me to learn new, uncharted areas of the law. It forces me outside of my comfort zone at least two to three times a week, and it provides me with the resources to keep a roof over our heads, food on our table, and clothes on our backs. Each one of those are things I should be thankful for- and in large part, I am.

But my job is not my passion. At least not at the moment. HT is fond of reminding me that there are a select few who are lucky enough to do what they love for a living. The rest of us spend our lives searching for something that pays the bills so that we can do what we love on weekends and holidays.

The good thing about starting off on a career in this day in age is that, unlike our grandparents’ generation that worked that worked their way up through the rank and file from mailroom clerk to CEO with the same firm, company, or agency, Gen Y-ers will spend their life in a range of different jobs. Some related, some entirely unrelated. Some of us may follow the “traditional” model of advancing within a single corporate entity, but others of us will bounce about and be alright with that.

And it’s the ability to bounce that keeps me grounded while waiting for the train at night or driving to the office on a Saturday morning. You see, I have a hard time identifying a single passion that drives me right now. At twenty-eight, I would be lying to say that I have identified my life’s passion. Rather than a single goal or ambition, I have a mental list of next steps which I am patiently waiting to take. It is a bucket list of job titles I hope to check off in pursuit of that one occupation that allows me to truly love what I do. I’m not talking about “dream” jobs like replacing Erin Andrews as an ESPN sideline reporter, writing hotel reviews for Travel & Leisure Magazine, or opening a restaurant specializing in Brunch. I’m talking about a range of jobs which involve a greater degree of public service. I’m talking about teaching college, writing speeches for politicians or public figures, or serving as a legal policy advisor within the Federal Executive Branch. I’m talking about being open to opportunities as they arise—being willing to give up the big pay check in hopes of greater inner-rewards. And I’m talking about being willing to adapt and let work take a back seat to family at the appropriate times, as well.

So I suppose, for now, my passion is keeping my eyes open. And that hope will have to sustain me for the time being.

Working Blog

G'Mony is currently experiencing chaos at work that has left her stressed and without any spare time to blog. She will have to assume the role of Saturday blogger this week. Apologies to all.

Roswell That Ends Well

The concept of time travel excites me because it reminds me of one of my most favorite shows- for once, I'm not talking about Felicity- but instead, the AMAZING Futurama.  If you've never seen this show, you need to start.  It was once on FOX, but was foolishly canceled. Much like Family Guy, after it left the air it gained a huge cult following thanks to Adult Swim (adult programming) on the Cartoon Network.  They have recently released four full-length Futurama feature films straight-to-DVD, but to be honest, the quality is not really the same as the orig. They play the old episodes, as well as the new movies, on Comedy Central, usually at 9PM and 1 AM on weekdays. You will thank me!

Anyway! Here's what the series is about.  It's basically a really funny, satirical, science-fiction cartoon. I am not usually a fan of sci-fi, but I can see why people become obsessed with it. A lot of it involves really interesting story lines and character studies. So the main character in Futurama is Philip Fry.  He is your typical turn-of-the-century twenty-something slacker. On New Year's Eve, 1999, he's delivering a pizza to a lab that cryogenically freezes people, and accidentally get frozen.  He then awakes 1,000 years later and meets a colorful cast of characters who have various adventures in the New New York in the year 3000. Not only is this show incredibly witty and full of social commentary, there is some amazing overarching plot lines going on.  For example, you watch the show for over a year before it's revealed that Fry's freezing was not at all a random accident. Actually, it deals with the fate of the universe. When you realize the planning that went into sketching out the long-term story lines, you can't help but be impressed. I also love many of the stories contained in particular episodes. My very favorite is the one about Fry's brother, Yancy, and what happened to him after Fry went "missing" in the 21st century. And I can't watch the episode about Fry's old dog- it is so moving. Whenever I see the title "Jurassic Bark" in the TV listings, I very swiftly change the channel.

There's one episode in particular that deals with time travel. I forget the scientific reasoning behind how the crew was transported to 1947 New Mexico, but it had something to do with some sort of eclipse and stove-top popcorn being placed in the microwave. Fry is told by the Professor (also a distant nephew of Fry's, although he is a really old man) not to mess with anything in the past because even the smallest action can cause massive changes to the future (don't we all know that?). Fry knows that his grandfather is stationed there, at Roswell Army Base, and decides to spy on him. Then Fry decides that his grandfather is completely unsafe and he needs to save him. I won't totally spoil the ending, but I will say that Fry's involvement leads to some insane consequences. The "B" story line is also extremely entertaining. Dr. Zoidberg, a hideous lobster-man who works with Fry, gets discovered by the Army. He ends up being the alien found in Area 51. I can't explain why it's so funny, you just have to see it.  Anyway, it's one of my faves.

My closing thoughts on time travel are this. I agree with GirlWednesday- you must feel like you are on Mars- time, is in a sense, a place, and traveling through time means you are going somewhere you have never been before. It must be disorienting and scary. But the crux of Futurama is the idea that Fry didn't have things all that great back in 1999. Sometimes he missed "home", but he soon came to realize that in the year 3000, he has people who care about him, and a purpose. The lesson is universal-- home is where, and when, the heart is.

Fast Forward

When I think back on my short-lived life thus far there are absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt, things that I wish I would not have done. I chose not to spend quality time with family members who are no longer here, there were times that I drank too much at college parties, and other moments where I lied to my family about things they eventually found out about. None of these things I am particularly proud of, nor would I repeat them if I could go back and do things again. However, I don’t think I would want the opportunity to go back and change things if I had the chance. As most of my fellow blogettes have mentioned, the hard things I went through shaped who I have become and have made molded me into who I am today.

Knowing that, I was having a hard time this week deciding what to write about. If I wouldn’t go back in time and change things…then what would I do?? All of the sudden two things happened: 1) I felt the baby kick for the very first time (I mentioned this briefly in a past blog….but I am about 20 weeks along with a little boy right now). And 2) I realized that I didn’t want to go back in time – I wanted to look forward!

There are so many questions I have for my future self and future family. I wonder what my children will look like. Will they have my big eyes or HubbyThursday’s cute and irresistible grin? Will they be athletic and captains of their sport teams? Will they be intelligent, well-spoken, and leaders of their classes? Will they appreciate theatre and music? Will they learn to build meaningful relationships? Will they be leaders and activists in their communities? The list goes on and on!! I want my future children to have so many opportunities and I hope they have the mindset to truly do anything they choose.

I wish so badly I could go forward and see how everything is going to turn out. My life right now has the opportunity to go is so many different directions and I wish terribly I knew which road I am going to take. Where is my career going to lead? How many children will I have? Etc, etc , etc.

One of my greatest fears is that I will get older and forget how hard I had to work to get there. I was the oldest of a huge family and growing up we didn’t have much. When I was seven I held my first job delivering newspapers. In high school I worked two jobs, was a Varsity athlete, and involved in almost every club our school had to offer. In college I waitressed at two restaurants, held positions in Student Body Government, competed in pageants, and was a three-sport Varsity athlete (cross country, indoor track & field, outdoor track & field), and graduated with honors. It was hard. There were times that I was jealous of my friends whose parents paid for all their education and had the benefit of being able to focus solely on their academics. But it taught me the importance of working hard and truly earning every accomplishment I achieved. When I came across challenges, I worked through them. Sometimes I succeeded and sometimes I failed, but I learned that it was impossible to succeed if you never attempt a challenge. Today, I know I am more successful and well-rounded because of the situation at hand when I was younger.

I fear that if HubbyThursday and I work hard to provide nice things for our children they won’t have this sense of accomplishment we were able to create for ourselves. It is so important to me that our children never think that they are “entitled” to anything, or that they are better than their peers because of accomplishments their parents have achieved. Don’t get me wrong….we haven’t even gotten to that point yet in our lives. We still have massive amounts of student debt and will still be living like poor college students for the next few years. However, I have no doubt in my mind that we will be successful some day.

If I could fast forward ten/fifteen years I would remind my future self that this is how I feel. I would remind my future self that I don’t want to drive fancy cars or own shiny things. It’s not important to have the biggest house, or the fanciest vacations. What is important is that we make it to all our kids’ track meets and basketball games. That we are there for each one of their parent/teacher conferences and can help them after school with their homework. That we are there for them when they have a terrible break-up and come home in tears, or when a mean junior-high girl makes fun of them. Most importantly, I never want to forget that our family is THE most important thing. Period. And that you can never give up on those you love the most.

So, as I am writing here feeling the baby kick (he is very little – not even a pound yet!) I have realized there is really no way I will be able to see what the future will hold. All I can do is hold myself accountable for my actions and constantly remind myself how I want to live my life and the values I want to instill on my children and future family. I have made mistakes in the past, and I know I will make mistakes in the future. I have confidence, however, that if I surround myself with people whom I love and care for my life will be full of fulfillment.

Life on Mars

When I picked the topic of time travel, it was fresh on my mind.  I had just watched the last episode of a great show, "Life on Mars."  A show about a man, 40-ish in 2009, who's forced to live in the year 1973.  This man hated it in 1973-- especially when he was faced with his toddler self and was given the opportunity to talk to himself about his father abandoning the family.  To serve sort of as a mentor.  He didn't want to at first, because he didn't want his toddler self to know what a dark and cynical man he'd become.

This man tried desperately, for the two years the show ran, to get out of 1973.

I think if any of us were forced back in time, to a period of our lives, knowing what we know now, it'd be as strange and as scary as being planted on the planet Mars.  And I wonder-- how tough would it be to resist the urge to warn ourselves, or advise ourselves on decisions unmade.

There's a perfect movie moment in "My Best Friend's Wedding," where the two friends are talking on a boat deck, about how once a moment passes... it's gone.  And as they say this, a cool shadow from a bridge above passes over them.  Suddenly it's sunny again, and indeed the moment has passed.  An opportunity gone.

At least in part, the tantalizing fantasy of time travel is defined by the possibility of going back to a moment of regret.  I try not to torture myself with this too often, though I admit that for a good portion of my life, I've been obsessed with regret.  I have a fear of regret so great that I fear I'll regret not packing every possible first aid item into my giant purse.  And then my purse is so heavy, that I usually regret packing it so.

I worry I'll regret everything from not buying that splurgy sunless bronzer, to not going outside on a perfect, sunny day.  What if I hadn't gone to Key West on spring break?  Would I have regretted not doing that sort of thing, looking back on my college life?  Would I regret not ordering something more daring from the menu?  Would I regret not riding the roller coasters in Disneyworld?  Would I regret not studying abroad in Florence?  

While thinking of all these things leaves me on the verge of a headache-- I think my greatest fear, is that I could potentially regret not fulfilling the expectations I had for myself as a child.  I wanted to be a  dozen different things- detective, hot-air balloon operator, lawyer, explorer, entrepreneur... And I wanted to take the world with me on all my adventures.  I wanted people to look forward to these adventures the way I looked forward to reading "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe," and watching "Flight of the Navigator."  I don't think hovering in obscurity, or even normalacy-- known only to my family, friends and teachers was something I ever dreamt for myself.  In fact, I wanted to be great.

As an adult, the book, "Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood," only fueled my fears and obsessions. This one hit me hard.  Two generations of women-- the daughter became a famous writer.  The mother was once young, vibrant, full of dreams and energy and charm- shouting her lofty aspirations from the back of her friend's speeding, red convertible, that she was going to be a star.  That same woman grew old, lamenting-- she "could have done something," "could have been something great."  Could have...  

I can't.

I can't, I refuse to give myself cause to look back on my life that way.  I'm going to keep plugging forward at full speed until I don't know what.  I don't know when I'll stop.  But I just can't, won't, shudder to think I might one day be an old and tired woman wishing for a time machine to take her back to Mars.    

A letter to my eighteen-year-old self

A few weeks before I graduated college, my mom called my dorm room to tell me that a very odd letter had arrived in a self-addressed envelope, but postmarked in my home town. Given the impossibility of my being two places at once, curiosity got the better of her and she called seeking permission to open it.

The contents—a letter. The author—eighteen-year-old GirlTuesday. The pristine pen strokes stretched across three pages of Five-star college ruled paper, serifs crafted with the authority and care of a confident yet uneasy hand. The tightly-crafted prose portrayed a miniature time-capsule snap shot of my mental musings at one naïve and narrow-minded moment of youth. The assignment—write a letter to yourself upon your college graduation. What do you want to say to the future you? What do you think you’ll be doing? Where will you be living? What will you have accomplished?

As soon as I realized what it was, I insisted that my mother stop reading. What could I have possibly have had to say, at eighteen, to my adult self? And, more importantly, did I dare share it with my mother?

In reality, my predictions were simple. My eighteen-year-old self expected that I would be graduating from the wrong college (I had not, in fact, gotten in to the one I’d predicted in that letter); marrying my high school boyfriend (we broke up two weeks after my arrival at college); finishing up my final season of swimming (I’d quit two years earlier); majoring in the wrong subject (I’d switched from Psychology to English and Political Science); and heading to law school in the fall (this alone was true). But more than the relative inaccuracy of the predictions, the thing that struck me most about that letter was the sheer simplicity of it. My eighteen-year-old self had not ventured to tell my adult self how much leaving home and charting my own course into adulthood would fundamentally shape my personal and professional life. My eighteen-year-old self could not have predicted the tragedy that would befall my teammates, or the precipitous international landscape into which our nation, and the world, were about to be thrust.

That letter is the closest thing to time travel I have ever experienced. And as I sat down to write this week, the question I kept posing to myself was whether, if I were able to, I would want to send a letter back from this moment in time to that eighteen-year-old me. Would I want to temp fate in disrupting the space-time continuum like Marty Mc Fly’s letter to Doc? Is there some bullet-proof vest I want to warn my younger self about?

I thought that I would write that letter here and tell my eighteen-year-old self all the things I should and shouldn’t worry about. I was going to tell myself to have more confidence, to recognize that my achievements were not simply a product of being a large fish in a small pond, to truly embrace the guidance my parents had once given that I could truly do and be whatever I would like to be when I grow up. I wanted to tell myself that there would be heartache, loss, and adversity in the ten-years between then and now. I wanted to tell myself to learn and grow and not dwell upon it. I wanted to tell myself to cherish the friendships, to hold fast to the people who mold and shape who I become, and not to let myself fall out of touch with them.

But the more I thought about it, the more I decided that I would never want to send such a letter. Getting a letter from my past was sort of a gut-check against my dreams and aspirations. It forced me to pause and see how my path had veered from where I had thought I was headed. In contrast, writing a letter from the future to a younger version of myself runs the risk of changing, fundamentally, who I am and who I have become. I’m not trying to proclaim that I enjoyed every moment of my life thus far; nor can I honestly say that I’ve learned lessons from every good or bad thing that has happened thus far. There are things I’ve said, done, and seen that I would like to take back or change. I just don’t think I want to rely on time travel to change any of it; and for now, I am thankful of that.

Flies and Walls and All That Jazz

I struggled a lot with the topic this week, trying hard to make it unconventional, but yet something you all might want to read. I thought about writing on my favorite Cher songs (but there are really only two, and that wouldn’t be a blog, it would be a list because I don’t have much to say about them, they’re alright, not terrific and not worth shelling out $150 to sit in the back row of the upper deck at Caesar’s in Las Vegas to hear). I also gave some thought to boring you all with a little astrophysics rant from my early days, but the thing about physics is that it’s sort of a hard topic to put to paper without lots of mathematical symbols, equations, and back story. Plus I haven’t yet come up with the exact formula for time travel, so we’ll save that for next week. What a great idea, next time it’s my turn, the topic is MATH. Woohoo!

Anyway (GM’s most favorite segue), I’ve decided to stick to the basics and just talk about Time Travel. Straight up. No fluff, no trying to make this into some quirky, weird, highly intelligent, but slightly off-topic blog. Nope. Not this week.

As far as being able to travel backward and forward in time, I’m all for it, but leave my life out of it. I don’t often have major regrets over things I’ve done and wish I could go back and re-do them. Most of my regrets come in the form of something that’s just popped out of my mouth at the most inappropriate time or something inappropriate that’s popped out at just the right time, but is still wrong. I would go back in time to take that back since making the mistake doesn’t seem to be helping me keep my trap shut. But those are too numerous to try to list here. I also have no interest in seeing the future. Sorry – it’s not for me. Don’t want to know when I’ll die, don’t want to see how my life turns out. No thanks – if I wanted boring I’d……..well go to a Cher concert.

What I would use my GirlMonday super time travel powers for is to go back and be a fly on the wall for events of the past. But only things that are personal to me – I don’t want to get greedy with the power and lose it. So I’ll pass on the I Have a Dream Speech, or the birth of Jesus (oooooh, how nice would that be though?). I’d rather get a chance to witness my dad asking my mom out on their first date. For those of you who don’t know my parents (who have been divorced since I was 10), MommaMonday is a very type-A personality and my dad is the most amiable guy you’ll ever meet. But apparently at some point he got up the nerve to ask her out, and their first date was to a UT-Penn State football game. He was supposed to be in a Saturday class but skipped it so he could take her out and on the way to the game my grandfather (who didn’t know a thing about this – I’m almost guessing this was dad’s first date ever) passed them on the interstate. As the story goes mom was saddled up next to dad in the seat of his old Buick and he had his arm around her when he looked over and saw my grandpa just waving and grinning in the car next to them. What I wouldn’t give to have been there.

My stepfather moved out of the house he shared with MommaMonday sometime right after I left DC and moved South (always capitalized, sorry). She said he kind of went crazy right before he left, and then it got even worse afterward as they were finalizing their divorce and hashing out the finances. I have my own theories, and I’ll keep them to myself, but he was never anything but wonderful when I was around. He and my mom married when I was 11 (see timeframe in previous paragraph….uh yeah), and I was supposed to just love him right from the start. Okay, sure. I’m 11 and my parents just divorced. That’s exactly what I was going to do. But over time, he sorta grew on me. He was a lot like my dad (I guess that’s why this one didn’t last either) which meant he was an all-around nice guy. Always doing things for other people, which meant being genuinely nice to me. Plus he had interests that matched with mine that I didn’t share with either parent. He was a baseball fanatic – which meant I had someone to talk OBP, CS, and HBP with. Well when he moved out, after I moved away, we lost touch. I tried to email a couple of times, but to be honest, I didn’t try very hard. Mom was pretty upset and angry, and he seemed to be barely holding on. So I tried not to get involved. Divorce is amazing in that once one of your parents marries someone you’re supposed to immediately love them, but once they divorce, you have to turn those feelings right around and push that person out of your life. So that’s what I did – it made her happy, it was easy, and he seemed to be dealing with his own problems from the divorce. But if I could travel through the space/time continuum, I’d be there as his life was spiraling out of control, I’d be there as he alienated all of his kids, and everyone he ever knew. And I’d certainly be there that Valentine’s day he drank himself to death in a hotel room in Florida. I don’t know that I could have done anything. I don’t know that it would do anything but ease my guilt, but I could try, right?

And lastly, for my short little life so far, I would absolutely love the opportunity to be there when my baby was born. GirlFairway didn’t come to me until she was almost four months old. She has such a distinct personality; I am in constant wonderment of where it comes from. Who does the curly tail come from? The black tongue? The incredibly slow gait? The adoration for all flying insects? Was it Momma or Papa Fairway who hated water? Metal sounds? Didn’t bark? Or were they perfectly normal and she comes from some traumatic experience in those first 3+ months. If that’s the case, I would want to be there too. Not as a fly on the wall – I don’t think I could contain myself. There’s got to be a reason why her little body is racked with anxiety every day. A reason why she freaks out when we get in the car and throws up from stress. Some explanation why she has doggie nightmares that cause her to make the most painful noises. There’s a reason why if I raise my voice, for any reason, even to be heard over the washer, she pins her ears back, tucks that long, fluffy, curly tail, and slinks away from me. And if I could just be there at the moment that happened, I could do something to stop it.

If only.

The Bright Side

The recession is not fun.  It has affected my life quite a bit.  I think about the state of the economy all the time, and I know it's just terrible and sad.  However, I am a believer in GirlTuesday's philosophy.  I can't help but think of the positives in life during this gloomy economic period. I choose to focus on all that is wonderful in my life.  I hope I'll always be able to do that, no matter what difficulties I face.  Here are some of the things that help me realize that I should be a happy person:

1. After a long, stressful day at work that had me really wound up, HusbandFriday suggested we head to Borders for a walk-around (a favorite pastime of mine) and encouraged me to purchase a French pop CD that lifted my spirits.  I don't know what I'd do without my buddy there to force me out of pouty moods.

2. My husband was away last weekend, and MomFriday insisted on me calling her constantly. If I went out at night, I had to call her when I got home.  I had to call her when I woke up in the morning.  I got several check-in calls from her during the day.  Perhaps most professional 28- year old women wouldn't be crazy about such doting, but I love it.  My mom will never stop being obsessively concerned about my welfare and happiness. It may be slightly annoying at times.  But it's a true blessing.

3. I have so many friends I can count on.  They make me laugh (another favorite pastime) and are so wholly there for me whenever I need them.  It is truly miraculous.

4. I have the best dog in the world.

5. I am healthy, as are most of my loved ones.  I have plenty to eat and clothes to wear.  I even have some pretty fabulous purses.

6. I love television, movies and music and have plenty of access to all of it.  

7. Oh yeah, I have a job.  If that changes, you may have to call me on my optimism.  Until then, I'm happy.

The Recession (sorry couldn't come up with anything wittier)

I have seen the recession hit the hardest at my job. I work for a large, national, privately-owned company with about 65,000 employees. Being privately owned was an area that our company took a lot of pride in. The company was started in 1957 and had never laid a single person off in the 50+ years they had been in business. This last year that all changed. We laid off about 4,000 people nationwide. People were nervous about the security of their jobs, lots of areas were restructured, pay freezes were implemented, and the office overall felt like a cemetery. People were walking around lifeless, afraid to talk to anyone!!

I work in the outside sales division for the company. I knew as long as I was performing my job wouldn’t be in jeopardy…they need the sales people to bring in revenue! Traditionally, within any company, I think the finance and sales positions are usually the safest. People need finance guys to operate the business successfully and they need the sales people to bring in the revenue.

However, this still was posing a challenge!! I work directly with other large and small businesses to generate revenue. Due to the recession/tightening economy/whatever you want to call it…many businesses are very ‘hesitant’ right now to move forward with any kind of purchases. Keep in mind, last year I brought in nearly $4,000,000 in revenue for our company. These are large purchases my customers are making! Needless to say, I spent a lot of time and hours getting creative and coming up with solutions that would help to increase cash flow for my customers, but still allow them to make their quarterly purchases with us.

Things seem to have slowly been getting better. It seemed as though after the first of the year, people were more willing to move forward with projects associated with their business. However, businesses are still downsizing and laying people off, which can affect us directly. I have learned that the relationships you build with your customers can be the most important thing during these hard times. If they can trust you to come in and make recommendations that will positively impact their business then you can stay successful.

GW Took the How Much In Denial are You Quiz...

I don't want to think or write about the recession anymore.  Enough already.

If you read my post last week, about how I tend to laugh more often in the face of misery, sadness and fear, then you might be onto the fact that I'm usually in a bit of denial.  Sounds like it could be dangerous to be blissfully ignorant-- but I think it's what gets me through the day, and all the big, bad things life throws around.

I've found that Facebook is a really great place to not think or write about the recession.  

In Facebook land, my friend just learned "what type of legal document" he is.  I mean, that's amazing!  He's a Res Ipsa Loquitor.  I have no idea what that means, but wow what a personal milestone.  Another friend took another quiz and found out she hates George W. Bush!  I think she already knew that (I think her whole Facebook universe already knew that), but I'm so glad she took a quiz and found out for sure!

On Facebook, my friends are: trying to fall asleep but can't, waiting for "CSI Miami" to come on, saying happy birthday to his "homie," squealed like a pig, doing homework, going to the dojo, quoting Elvis, cheering on the Rangers--  NO ONE is talking about the recession here!  I LOVE this place!  

I have four friends following illness:  one woman is doing physical therapy exercises after foot surgery, my old English teacher is chronicling his diet before a colonoscopy, a coworker is sitting next to her sister recovering from a stroke, and a mom is worrying about her daughter's dental problems.  But I don't think any of these things are actually serious, because all these friends will be writing about something else a few minutes from now.  

Just about all the girls from my high school have at least one toddler; and my former CEO announced his wife's positive pregnancy test 5 minutes ago.  OMG, I had no idea what cereals that girl from 10th considered her top five, and in what order.. I probably would put Lucky Charms first, but whatever.  Oh cold.  Someone is so mad about a baseball game he used lots of exclamation points and now his friend is egging him on by being happy about the same baseball game and also using exclamation points.  That is so rude!  Refresh.  God I love vaguely suicidal status updates-- that one girl really wants someone to ask her what's wrong but no, I won't do it.  Someone should reply that they're "praying for her" and hope another status update interrupts the awkward silence.  Watch out someone just threw a chicken!  You know what, I changed my mind- I am a little uncomfortable when the pregnant girl is posting that she needs someone to cuddle with.  

In this matrix there's no talk of layoffs, dissolving 401k, or shrinking savings here.  In fact, people are sending each other cupcakes and mobile uploads and growing gifts and wall graffiti! People are out and shopping.. see? Everything's fine.   

  

Glass half-full

I work with a Partner at my law firm who is fond of characterizing potential weak points in a client’s case as “opportunities for argument refinement.” The first time I heard him say it, I could not help but chuckle and the superb simplicity of the statement. Only a lawyer would offer such a swift turn of phrase in an effort to regain a superior negotiating position. As a relative novice to the field, I still have a tendency to call it like I see it—why kid yourself, right?

But after I stopped giggling, I realized that he was on to something much bigger. His words echoed the same tone that the director of my swim camp used to repeat year after year—you do not have problems, you only have opportunities.

What opportunity, then, does this recession present? The same partner has me working hard on deadline this week, so my reflections are necessarily short, but here’s my attempt at coming up with all the bright sides to a depressed economy.

1. The interest rate on my student loans is remarkably low
2. HT and I stand a decent chance of actually being able to afford buying a home within the next year or so.
3. There has been a revitalized interest in public service among a generation that had often looked such a professional path.
4. As GirlFriday noted last week, it has become chic to be a homebody.
5. It’s a buyer’s market for sports cars.
6. The decline in preventive healthcare means that it’s easier to get a doctor’s appointment on short notice.
7. Sweet deals available at foreclosure sales.
8. Tee times are more readily available at the golf-course.
9. The people behind me in line at the grocery store have stopped huffing and puffing when I pull out my stack of coupons.
10. When the economy is tanking, you actually don’t mind working until 10pm on a Sunday night because you’re thankful to have work to be doing. Or at least that's what I'm telling myself. . .

The Recession and Michael C. Fina

Even though I’ve certainly touched on the recession in several other posts, I’m glad to be able to do it again. Because of the nature of work I’m in, it’s always on my mind.

I interact with people every day who don’t get preventative health care for their children because they don’t have the money or insurance or common sense enough to do it (or all three). I went across the hall to the Food Stamp office last week to check in with one of my managers and found staff taking up money to buy snacks from the vending machine for a family that hadn’t eaten in two days. The unemployment rate in my home state hit 10.8% for March – that means hundreds of thousands of people who are drawing down savings, racking up more credit card debt, putting off mortgage payments or getting evicted, and having to choose between gas for the car, food on the table, or diapers for the baby. These are really tough times for a lot of Americans, and I have to constantly remind myself that not everyone works where I do (but should, just once in their life, spend a day at our front desk). But that doesn’t mean we should all be spending like it’s 2004.

I know many people who have gotten married in the last 12-18 months, and I was happy to spend money on a gift to help them celebrate the occasion. While indulgences are certainly commonplace on registries (as, perhaps, they should be!), I am somewhat shocked when one of my friends asks for people to pay hundreds of dollars for coffee pots, gravy boats, flatware, and pomegranate Seders (I’m not Jewish, so I don’t know if $565 is appropriate for that or not…) when there are people and organizations out there going broke.

So what breaks my heart is that I have a friend (who shall remain nameless, although if he, for some crazy reason, ever reads this blog, he’ll know who I’m talking about) who is getting married. It’s not sad that he’s getting married (in fact, it’s wonderful!), what’s so crazy is his wedding registry. I do not attempt to blame anyone for this extravagance; it is certainly within their right to register for whatever they desire. And in fact, it may be all her doing, so no need to point a finger at him. This is just my subtle reminder that right now, when people are hurting, showing a little restraint is appreciated.

Anyway, back to the registry. There are over 300 items on a collection of three registries: Fancy Major Department Store, Uber-Fancy Kitchen Store, and some place called Michael C. Fina. I don’t know Michael personally, but he makes some very nice items. Where else can I buy an ice bucket (with tongs!) for $200? Or a single china dessert plate (1 of 8 requested) for $210? Where I live, $200 can provide 200 meals at the local food bank or 100 meals to elderly and disabled folks through Meals on Wheels (their waiting list has now topped 150 people). The Fancy Department store registry holds their second set of china (this one out of 12) and a dessert plate here will set you back $184. The gravy bowl’s a whopping $246, which will work out to $123 a serving for each time they make gravy in their lives…..They’ve also registered for everyday china (thankfully more in my price range) although it causes me to wonder who they’re going to be having over with their three sets of dinnerware. The bride and groom have certainly covered all of the bases for registering for enough items, and thankfully around a hundred or so of those items are under a hundred dollars – well done.

I’m not asking everyone, including my friend and his fiancée, to think like I do, just to realize that for the cost of just one $330 stainless steel roasting pan or one $370 12-quart stock pot, you can provide assistance to a family facing eviction. So think about that next time you’re using your 10 qt stock pot.

Me? Cut Back? Never.

I love this topic!  It is so timely, first of all.  And, it's nice to know that I'm not the only one cutting back.  This is the only real time of economic uncertainty we've experience as adults, and it's scary.  It is really hard that this is all happening exactly when we are starting our grown-up lives, and thinking about homes and kids and marriages and stuff.  But I think better now that when we are 65.  And in a way, it's a good thing.  I think a lot of our generation were getting used to the prosperity.  It's helpful that reality has set in and now young people will have more of an understanding that they have to save, and be really cautious about how they save.  The fact that many people lost everything in what they thought were very secure accounts not withstanding- I'm trying to be positive here.

Anyway, it's hard for me to cut back at all.  I don't think the things I generally spend money on are too extravagant.  I hardly ever eat out at really nice places, I tend to buy whatever I want at the grocery store, I have a blackberry which I need for work, I don't drive very much these days, I don't buy clothes often, etc.  So the notion of cutting back on these minor expenses kind of ticks me off.  For me, the key to spending less is being a homebody.  I tend to spend when I'm out with my friends or my husband.  Lucky for me, I love being at home.  The biggest change for me in this recession has been that I mentally block myself from leaving (to a social extent) as much as I would normally.

But back to the topic.  As I've posted about before several times, I love my lattes.  It's not the caffeine.  I just love ordering mine, waiting for it, drinking it-- especially with a friend to gossip with.  I've been brainwashed by the big corporations who want me to think exactly like I do-- get that rush of happiness purely because I blew several dollars on a beverage that I will supposedly really like-- whether I actually do or not.  I guess I have cut down on these-- since leaving my house less often=less lattes.  But I wouldn't actively avoid one if given the opportunity.

Something else I could never live without is the internet, high-speed style.  I know some people just log-on at work, or go to cafes when they need to, but I don't think I ever could.  I work from home, so it's been a while since the days when I would be online at work ALL DAY LONG and very often, I never even turned on the computer at home in the tired evenings.  But it's such a go-to for me now I don't think I could give it up.  Though having a Blackberry is also very helpful- so I don't know, maybe I could.  I think the Internet is definitely one of those things that you feel like you can get if more than one person will be using it.  Between my husband and I, it's worth it.  On my own, I'm not so sure.

GirlWednesday alluded to this the other day, but I think an important thing not to cut back on is quality.  It's tempting to get cheaper home goods, clothes, accessories and stuff but the reality is, you will have to spend more money in the long run if you get lower quality stuff.  Sometimes it's tempting and I've definitely been guilty of it myself, but instead of buying cheaper things when I need them, I try to wait and save and get something that will stand the test of time and that I will really love.  

I suppose the key for surviving the recession for me is tricking myself into believing that I'm not really cutting back, when I actually totally am.

Daily Necessities

I have thought about this topic for a while. I suppose there are things that you begin to become dependent upon that you actually don’t realize you are reliant upon until you are forced to think about it! I tried to go through my every-day routine and came up with five things that I basically use every single day. I think it would really ruin/hinder my day if I didn’t have one of these five things!!

MAC Makeup – I realize that this may seem like a frugal thing. Some people might read this and think, “Can’t you just buy a less expensive brand?” And the answer is, yes, I can. However, I am addicted to my MAC makeup. I don’t own any makeup (with the exception of a few lipstick shades) that isn’t MAC! I got hooked on it about five years ago when I was competing in pageants. The makeup worked great for the stage and I learned ways you could tone it down and wear it every-day. It makes such a difference! They eye makeup lasts all day and just overall makes me feel more confident. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t wear makeup every single day. In fact, on weekends or days off from work I rarely even wash my hair – not to mention do my makeup. However, when I am in a professional setting I think makeup and jewelry are a must. My last point about MAC – it definitely is more expensive then the Cover Girl stuff at Walmart. BUT, it is not that much more expensive…and it lasts me such a long time! I’m willing to spend a little more when it looks substantially better and will last me longer then the drugstore brand.

My ipod – This is something that I wouldn’t really need to give up since it is already paid for, but nonetheless, I am dependent upon this thing! I love having an ipod! I have been a runner my whole life and having music when you are on a 60+ minute run can be the difference between a great day and a miserable day. I love listening to the Rocky soundtrack when I am trying to get motivated to push myself hard, or the new Rihanna cd when I want something upbeat to pick up my pace. I don’t need anything fancy…even just an ipod shuffle will do.

Sugar….anything with Sugar – I know this sounds so lame. But I am a sugar junkie. I hate to admit this but I eat sugar every single day. And trust me, I know how bad this is for me, especially because it is almost all refined sugar. Anything sweet…ice cream, candy sweets, Panera’s cinnamon crunch bagels, extra syrup on my pancakes…I love it all. As I was thinking about things I do each day I realized that it is a rare day that I don’t have some kind of sweet snack. I have a terrible addiction to sugar!! I really, truly wish I could give this one up, but I don’t think I have the willpower.

Classic Black Pumps – I don’t have any strange urges to buy lavish purses or an addiction for the shoes-you-will-only-wear-one-time. However, I always need to have a pair of regular black, pointy-toed pumps in my closet. I wear them almost every day! I am pretty tall…about 5’8” but proportionately to my height my legs are very short. As a result, I end up wearing heels quite often to lengthen the look of my legs. I wear them with my suits to work, with jeans in the evening, and with a black dress for a night out. I don’t even need expensive ones – the last one I got at Marshals for $24.99. BUT, the problem is that I walk really heavy and put a lot of weight on my heels. As a result, my shoes get worn out really quickly on the skinny-heel part. It seems as though I am getting new shoes every 3-4 months or so.

Cup of Morning Joe – Lastly, along with my sugar addiction I also have a caffeine addiction. I used to drink 7-8 cups of coffee a day!! Now that I am pregnant I have cut this down to almost nothing, but I usually will still have a half cup or so in the mornings. I don’t need expensive coffee, Folgers will work fine for me, but I would be a major grump if I had to cut this out of my routine.

I Won't Give You Up Whoopi Cushion, Tina Fey

I'm trying to imagine New York City if the economy got so bad that gossip girls, in their aging Tori Burches, had to camp out in long lines for free government bread and blocks of cheddar; if former Wall Street traders sold found junk, laid out on tattered blankets on the sidewalk; if higher-education families packed up their Brooklyn Heights brownstones into their Subarus, and then lived out of those Subarus on the side of a dusty and neglected Brooklyn-Queens Expressway. I try to imagine the city's flashy bars filled with tattered and down-trodden patrons.  I imagine shanty towns, lining the sparkling skyline, in the shadows of the ghost-inhabited luxury apartment buildings.

In talking with my co-worker/friend about recent subway and bus fare hikes, my co-worker/friend said, 

"The city's going to go insane.  People are going to go insane.  It'll be like that movie, Summer of Sam, where everyone runs loose in the streets and throws garbage cans and stuff." 

I wonder-- how bad would it have to get before I consider giving up something essential that more than likely my grandfather would have deemed a luxury?

I don't want to think about life without cable, without internet in my apartment, without my cell phone, without my gym membership, without my contact lenses, or my hair dryer.  I don't want to think about it because it's all too possible, frankly.  I've weighed these things on my could-I-do-without-it scale as of late.    

If I did without these things I'd be cut off from the world, out of touch, I'd be blind as a bat, chubby, and my hair would be a mess every day.  I can see that alter reality and I can tell you I don't like it one bit.  

But there's something I could never do without- ever.  There's one thing I could never even envision my life, my daily existence, without- and that's laughter.  

I mean, the news is pretty grim.  It's easy to get sucked into the sadness and the worry.  But I refuse to stop laughing.

The other day this jerky producer at my job walked past me in the hallway.  As he breezed by he said, 

"How are you?"  And without pause, pointed at me:  "Don't laugh."

I'm sorry but it's just not possible.  

Today, another co-worker/friend came to my desk to say, "hi."  He is notoriously funny.  And instead of saying "hi," he announced for the whole newsroom,

"What did I tell you about personal emails at work!?  Stop it!!"  

When everyone looked up, there I was laughing. 

I don't know where the heck any of us would be, mentally, physically, spiritually, emotionally-- if we couldn't laugh.  If we couldn't laugh at ourselves and our pitiable situations, as things crumble.  Or as they crash and burn.  

I like to laugh really loud at a good joke- even when I'm down, even when the office is quiet, and maybe we're all quiet and somber with fear of running out of money, with the fear of losing our jobs, thinking about how the company we work for continues to ask for more and more and we're  contemplating how much more we can give and still do our jobs to the standards we once had the time to which to hold ourselves.  I like to laugh loudest then, I think, because it reminds people, it reminds me, that there is a lightness to our beings.  We often forget this when we are so focused on the changes around us. 

As things get worse, I actually find it much easier to make fun of myself.  I am less funny and less humored by others when I'm trying to keep up appearances and I'm busy pretending everything is great.  

Everything does not appear to be great in the world.  It seems the ship is sinking-- quickly at times, slowly at others.  But if there's one thing I'm certain of through all this dark ambiguity, it's that I'm going to go down laughing.

  

Sweating the small stuff

I am a sucker for life’s little luxuries. I’m not a big spender, and, with the exception of impulsive clothing purchases, I like to think I am a reasonable shopper most days. That said, when I tried to come up with just one thing I wouldn’t give up, I had a really, really, really tough time. I must preface the rest of this blog with the admission that I am a pack rat. When my folks moved out of our childhood home, I emptied a grand total of twelve full-sized trashbags out of my bedroom alone, not to mention the boxes of “important” books and papers that I’d made them save in the basement, attic, and/or guest room closet. What I didn’t throw out, I either brought with me to my new apartment’s storage closet, or begged them to keep in their new basement. I just have a really hard time getting rid of much of anything. When I graduated law school, I had a similar gutting of my then one-bedroom apartment to be able to move into my 450 square-foot studio here in the city. And I gutted it again when HT and I moved in together last year.

So I guess my problem is that I feel like I’ve given up a lot of “stuff” lately. I donated three bags of old clothes to good-will; I sent all the decent and trendy clothes to a family friend who would appreciate my hand-me-downs far more than the back corners of my closet; I pitched even more college notebooks; and tossed a wide variety of knick-nacks and decorating items that I once found quaint and now found tacky. I tried as well as I could to purge our really, really discount furniture, despite hanging on to a decent percentage of Ikea furniture. Baby steps, right?

Rather than an impending move, the economy is now knocking at the door, asking me to give up more things, purge further habits. But budgetary downsizing isn’t as easy as packing up highschool notebooks into heavy-duty yard-waste trash bags and throwing them into a dumpster. Economic restraint involves a day-to-day discipline—a willingness to part ways with the little amenities that I, as a member of the entitled generation have had relatively little practice with. That’s why I failed to come up with one single thing that I insisted upon retaining. Instead, I opted for my top five little things that I refuse to give up in their entirety. Call me materialistic, call me selfish, call me what you will—I’m not letting them go.

My hairdryer. I have naturally wavy hair, but insist on wearing it straight. This is impossible without a good hairdryer. I’m not particular, I’d even buy a ten-dollar one if my current one breaks, but I’m keeping it. Mine.

Our plasma TV. This was my one very, very impulsive buy. It was on sale; we got a good deal. And I know how tremendously shallow this sounds, but once you’ve watched the Masters with every single blade of gorgeous green glass visible and shuddering in the wind and bouncing at each ball strike, you won’t go back. I swear.

Pantyhose. Most women would part with these instantly. The bane of the female existence, I don’t particularly care for them either. BUT, I have really sweaty feet. Without panty hose, even in summer, I get terrible blisters on my feet without them. It’s a miniscule expense anyways, but I’m keeping my stock plentiful.

The occasional dinner out. Okay. Maybe more than occasional even. I love eating out. That’s part of the pleasure of living in a big city—lots of ethnic food options for take out, and lots of fine dining for the times when you really want to treat yourself. I’ll gladly forgo the caviar and escargot, but when I don’t feel like cooking or when HT and I are in need of a date-night, we’re going out. Economy be damned.

Starbucks on those really, really sleepy mornings. I wasn’t a coffee drinker before this year anyways, so I don’t have the addiction that requires me to hit up Starbucks each and every day. But there are definitely days on which I barely make it out of bed, or just generally can’t stomach the idea of spending the entire day in the office. Those are the days that I find myself standing in line at the Starbucks in the lobby of my office building. Those are the days when the weaker stuff they brew upstairs in the hospitality kitchen just doesn’t cut it. And throw in a chocolate old fashioned donut for good measure.

If You Can Get It From My Kung Fu Grip, Then You Can Have It. Okay? Otherwise, Step Off……

In case you’ve been living in a cave for the last 18 months, here’s some news: the economy’s in the crapper. It’s been getting worse every day since some time in 2007, although there is some optimism surrounding a potential upswing. I am definitely one of the many Americans who have cut back on things. Things I needed to cut back on anyway. I’m not super spendy, but the economic situation has been a mini wake-up-call. I’m eating out less, buying off brands at the grocery store, cutting coupons (I saved $19 in one trip to the store! Go me!), avoiding getting my hair cut as often as I used to (so every three years instead of every two….), and so on and so forth.

But when it comes down to it, no matter how bad it gets…..(and I mean bad, they can cut my hours at work, cut my pay, cut my job and leave me waiting tables somewhere) there are some things I will NEVER give up. I can’t do it. We all have our indulgences (for MommaMonday it’s getting her hair colored every 6 weeks, shhhhh, don’t tell her I told you), but for me it’s much more random than that. I can give up, very easily, most things that others would consider essentials. I’ve already given up a lot of my car by taking the bus to work every day (and not easy to do when you’re in a sprawling Southern city). I’d give up my cell phone if I had to. I’d certainly give up dining out completely. And mani/pedis, coffee at the Bucks, and expensive clothes and make-up were never my indulgences anyway. So I guess I’m lucky in that department. The one thing I wouldn’t give up, no matter what, is my contacts. Silly as it might sound, they’re my one indulgence.

I’ve worn contacts since I was in 9th grade. I think I probably counted down the days until my first pair starting sometime in the 7th grade. I can remember sitting on my hands the first night trying not to rub at my itchy eyes because I’d already rubbed the contacts out once. I had a pair of the old soft contacts that you had to take out every night, rub with cleaning solution, let them sit, then come back and put them in saline overnight. It was such a chore but much, much better than glasses. There’s nothing worse than being a soccer player in glasses. Besides having the tendency to break countless pairs of glasses, I hated playing in them in the rain – I almost felt like they needed little mini windshield wipers. I could never see out of them. And they fogged up anytime I got something out of the oven. Needless to say, I was thrilled with my first pair of contacts. But being a child of divorce, I was always forgetting my cleaning solution at the other parent’s house, or running out, or tearing a lens. So over the years, the contacts turned out to be just as much pain and frustration as the glasses. Although very painful at the time, an eye infection in 2000 turned out to give me just the relief I need. My eye doctor forced me to switch over to the daily disposables and I haven’t gone back since. They’re extravagantly expensive (you put in a fresh pair every day and throw them out each night), but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I tear one, FLING off it goes into the trash. I lose one crying in the movie theatre, no worries, I just snag an extra from my purse and pop it in. No cleaning each night, no worries about tearing one (and the extra) while I’m in Europe, or Antarctica. Anyway, enough about the eyeballs, I can just say no matter the cost (and the cost, whew, is freakishly high), I would never, ever, ever trade them in for the old contacts or glasses again.