The Best Online Date of My Life

This dog. This energetic, kiss-happy, 38 lb. bundle of magic. Nash is all mine; my second dog. I think Cadence, my first dog, lives on in Nash’s sweet, loyal temperament. This dog shaped package of breathing love, turns 4-years-old today. I adopted him when he was a few days past his first birthday. I really wish I had known him as a puppy. He’s so dang handsome as an adult dog, I can’t imagine how adorable he was as a wee one.

I spend a lot of time worrying about him. He could run away, he could get into a bad fight with another dog, or he could eat something bad for him. I don’t like to take him on playdates with friend’s dogs because there’s always that what if hanging out there. I have a bit of PTSD from a fight he had with a dog I tried to foster at the beginning of the plague lockdown. This too shall pass.

I often say that finding Nash was the best online dating I’ve ever done. I found him on a random Wednesday home from work with a migraine, and sadness. It was about 2 months after Cadence died and I woke up feeling morose with the migraine. I realized I was morose and migrainy because I missed having a dog. So, I hopped on Petfinder.com and it was love at first sight. His profile was gratefully remiss of gratuitous fishing shots, or posing with his sweet ride.  He did have a weird name but it wasn’t Todd, so not a deal breaker.

Nash did try to bounce midway through our first hang, however. He saw his opening while on our get-to-know-you walk through the aisles of Petsmart where we met. Escaping his lead, he made it to the inside of the entrance vestibule. I did my best Rowdy Piper move and landed on top of him so he couldn’t escape. It may have been too early in our relationship for that much physical closeness but I knew I had myself a good one and didn’t want him to ghost on me.

I managed to get the lead back on him and we continued our stroll through the aisles as I tried to stop hyperventilating while also checking out all the cute dog toys I could buy my new love. We strolled back to the maitre d, or the adoption guy, and I asked a few clarifying questions as Nash, or Shieko as he was then known, leaned his little body against me, waiting for me to finish up so he and I could begin our lifetime adventure together.

Maybe moving in together within the first 2 hours of knowing each other is impetuous, but I knew he was a keeper. Nash seemed incredibly happy to be on his way out of the Petsmart and into my sweet ride. Definitely the best online date I’ve ever had.

Happy Birthday, sweet Nasher.

The New York Times Hates Me

Well, maybe hate is too strong a word but still...
Some of you may know that I'm in love with the New York Times' "Modern Love" column. Recently, they had a call out for 500 word stories about living alone during the pandemic. I've wanted to write a "Modern Love" column for like, ever, and so decided to submit my own 500 word story of living alone pandemic-style. Honestly, I'm happy that I submitted it at all, so the fact that they didn't choose my story is totally fine. Really, it's fine.
I'm including my little submission here instead. Would love your feedback, of course.


Maybe I’ve had it right all along. Maybe swearing off dating of any kind somehow weirdly prepared me for lockdown. “Well, I’ll never meet a man now,” I thought to myself after lockdown was imposed in my state. The two-dimensional Zoom meeting, while novel at first, has now gone the way of fear-free grocery shopping, and if this experience has taught me anything, it’s that I enjoy my people, in the flesh.
An only child, and single adult, I’m accustomed to living life solo. I travel solo, work solo, movie solo, shop solo. Most things, I do solo. I do all this soloing by choice, while never thinking about it in the context of not having one. Without giving it a second thought, I’ve always had the option of bringing, or meeting along the way, some of my people. Now that this choice isn’t mine, it makes me feel, well, I’m not quite sure how it makes me feel. I have some shame about not entirely hating this solitary time. Pre-pandemic, I longed for days of unfettered, unscheduled time. Now that I have it, I just feel weird.
Part of me wants to use this time to unshackle myself from the monotonous day-to-day, but then I remember how lucky I am to be employed, housed and fed, and remind myself to be grateful for the monotony. I’m working, hanging with my dog, doing house projects, sewing masks, and thinking about how best I can contribute to society through all of this. Most of all, I’m grateful for my health. At 52, my fear of getting this disease is like a low-level fever in itself.
I’m not overly bothered by the very limited possibility of my snagging a fella anytime soon, and I miss having experiences with my friends and family. While not lonely, I manage the low-grade fever of fear by running, riding my bike, reading, and sleeping. Going to bed is the only time of day that still feels normal. Nothing’s changed about going to bed every night, and I relish that moment when I slip between the sheets. Life feels normal for half a second, until I check my phone and see another story of pain and survival that’s incongruent with the fleeting feeling of normalcy.
Before living in our pandemic reality, I’ve taken seeing people in the flesh for granted, we all have. People that I can touch, smell, and be present with. Things are different now, and for what I believe, years to come. Still, this normally happy solo gal longs for a packed concert, a busy city street, listening to podcasts on my way to work, and jockeying for the aisle seat on flights to the Midwest. I even miss waiting in line. I try to never say never, but I know I’ll never again take the day-to-day for granted, monotonous or not. As long as I have a choice to bring my people with me, I know I’ll never really be alone.

And if you'd like to read the words of much better, published writers, check out the article here: 

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/13/style/coronavirus-modern-love-living-alone.html

Coronavision

Well here we are, right in the middle of one of my post-apocalyptic stories I favor so much. I know some of my friends don't quite understand why I love this genre. One of my favorite books is The Stand by Stephen King, which I read as a preteen. Unfamiliar with The Stand? The main character is a plague nicknamed Captain Trips, indiscriminately killing 99% of the population as survivors all gravitate to Las Vegas of all places. I love films like 28 Days Later and Contagion, and really heart the first few seasons of "The Walking Dead." Sans pareil of the genre, is The Road by Cormac McCarthy. Don't read that one and expect to feel hopeful afterwards, troubled and hazy drunk perhaps, but not hopeful. The stories of resiliency, perseverance, triumph, love and even boring day-to-day existence, is the pull of the apocalyptic tale for me. It's why I started watching "The Walking Dead" and why I stopped near season 7 when it got too gratuitously violent. I didn't watch for the zombie massacres, I watched for the stories of well drawn characters in which I hoped to see myself.

Over the past week, I find myself strangely getting used to an odd gloom hanging over everything. I stocked up on things a couple of weeks ago, so no dealing with empty store shelves for me. I have plenty of TP, canned goods, batteries, pasta, rice, and coffee of course. While I wasn't a great Girl Scout, I am typically always prepared. I chalk it up to being a Capricorn and an only child more than anything, but being prepared also calms my mind. This odd gloom reminds me of the fires here in Colorado the spring and summer of 2012. That was such a shitty summer in so many ways. I ended up having to cancel a large-scale bike tour due to a county-wide smoke alert. The event was a large fundraiser for the healthcare foundation I worked for at the time. I remember making the decision and bursting into tears at my friend Paul's desk. He looked at me like any man that has a crying woman in their office would, kinda scared, and said, "You know it's not your fault, right?" While I certainly did know that, I still felt a lot of guilt over the decision. Little did I know how much I would learn from that experience, namely that people can be assholes, especially when sitting behind a computer screen. My favorite was an email from a firefighter named Forrest (you can't make this shit up) who lambasted me for canceling. I did end up getting a much calmer email in return after I reminded him, professionally mind you, that he of all people should understand my decision. And I would be remiss to not mention that most people were cool about it, understanding that a healthcare system can't, in good conscience, send 1500 cyclists out to ride 60+ miles during a county-wide smoke alert.

The summer of fire also taught me something a bit more important. I remember talking to my dad on the phone as I watched the Waldo Canyon fire eat people's homes, live on TV. The High Park fire was about 6 miles from my house, as the crow flies. Horsetooth Reservoir, a large body of water, sat between me and the fire, but I was anxious anyway. Dad asked me what I could do to feel better. I told him I was worried that if the fire somehow magically jumped over the reservoir, I would be too far away to grab important things from my house, and that my dog Cadence would be stuck inside. He told me, "You have a Subaru. Put the things you want to save from a fire in crates and drive around with them till the threat goes away." I did just that and immediately felt better. I made arrangements for Cadence too, and felt prepared, my mind at ease.

When this virus started getting a stronghold in Washington, my dad's words came back to me and I casually went to Costco on a Friday after work and then to the grocery store like normal. No hurrying, no panic, just normal shopping to be prepared. Once the cancellations started rolling in, I had nothing but compassion for everyone making these tough decisions. Especially when you have people making light of a truly world-wide public health crisis. Journalist Laurie Garrett @Laurie_Garrett, said on the On the Media podcast, that Americans are epidemic voyeurs. We in the U.S. have had the privilege of watching epidemics from afar, for the most part. She pondered what the mettle of the American public would be once COVID-19 became a pandemic. Did she envision a run on toilet paper and beer? Regardless, my mind was calm and I felt prepared.

When I started in event planning, I would pore over contracts and was always intrigued by the concept of force majeure, French for superior force. Force majeure is common in contracts and basically frees both parties from liability due to an extraordinary event, like a hurricane, or a public health emergency perhaps, causing the event to not take place. When I'd read that part of a contract, after learning what it meant, I felt like my little bike tour, 5K or triathlon was a bigger deal than it actually was somehow. The words force majeure sound important, they have gravitas, appropriately so for what they mean, right? Or maybe anything sounds more important in another language?

Could this be our force majeure? The odd gloomy feeling aside, I feel a strange, unsettling sense of a new beginning. Could this be the end of the absolute worst president and administration in history? An end to people being so fucking awful to each other? An end of what's-in-it-for-me culture? Or does the run on TP and beer indicate otherwise? Will we just continue on as selfishly normal once the smoke clears, only caring about ourselves? I hope not. One thing I am pretty certain of - as this pandemic forces us to work from home, having more Teams meetings and conference calls, we'll be forced to talk on the phone more. You know, instead of seeing people in person. And as someone who has always disliked talking on the phone, I'm choosing to look at this as an opportunity, like when I was allowed a phone in my room when I was a teenager to talk to boys in private. Who knows, maybe in a strange, horribly beautiful way, this will bring people closer together and we can stop hoarding TP, and maybe share that beer.

Stay safe, and remember to do your part to #flattenthecurve.

The Winner Takes It All...

But do they? I've been happily re-watching the 4th season of Better Call Saul in preparation for the 5th, and final season. Truly, Better Call Saul is better than Breaking Bad. Sublime, poignant and just top notch storytelling. Anyway, the last episode in season 4 is titled, Winner, and poor Jimmy McGill is anything but. Saul Goodman on the other hand, is well, a certain kind of winner. A self-made man that when confronted with the many obstacles of his sad, little life, becomes needed, necessary. And dressed in pink, or maybe it's more of a mauve, whatever - he becomes your guy when you run into trouble and consistently makes hay out of any drug-dealing, corrupt, and downright dangerous situation. The prepaid cell phone he sells you is already programmed with his number for god's sake.

All this winning watching got me thinking about my own lot in life, as it were. Lately, the ambiguity of it all allows me time to think about what. the. fuck. is. next. I signed up for voice lessons today, so that's something I suppose. Don't worry, not singing lessons, but I digress. I've talked to several friends about this middle ground I'm on, along with most other women in our age bracket, and here's the thing, or some kind of thing at least; no one is asking me to do anything. Not a damn thing. Other than work related requests, which I mostly enjoy, there's not a dang thing in my inbox. So what about this - because there's nothing in my inbox (and I mean that literally, too) - I could try to be grateful for the unfettered time on my hands, right? Time to think about what I want to do next, instead of, "Holy shit, what am I gonna do next," I get to do whatever I want. I mean literally, I can do whatever the hell I want. I answer to no one (except work, of course). Who gets that? I'm too old to answer to my parents, although I do care what they think of me, and while I may not answer to anyone, I do feel a sense of responsibility to lots of people.  Instead of looking at this as an existential crisis, this is really just one more opportunity I have in my generally unburdened life, to do whatever I want. Really, the only thing we get to control are our thoughts, our next moves, and our choices. I'm going to try to choose fabulous over flummoxed and make some hay of my own, like Jimmy, or maybe Saul.

Could this be what the fabulous 50's are all about?

Get the Ice Cream

What the hell is wrong with us? Why must we feel the need to do more, be more, experience more? And if we don't do these things, we're somehow flawed? What a load of bullshit. I watched a Tom Papa comedy special on Netflix and he got me thinking. The whole hour is basically about how we're all doing just fine despite life's challenges. We're the first generation that doesn't have to fight for survival. Food, and everything we ever need, is within arms reach. Other generations might've been skinnier but their lives were miserable. They worried about growing their own damn food, building their own homes, they fought in wars, and they didn't see past the next day because the day they were living was fucking hard enough. Tom thinks we should just get some ice cream and enjoy the day.

I've been ruminating on the meaning of my life, not sleeping well, and struggling over what my next move should be. It's been well, weird. I do believe they call this a mid-life crisis. I hate that term, like I hate all colloquialisms that reduce our feelings into a catchphrase so we can somehow feel just like everyone else and in effect, not deal with our feelings. All told, I've really got it pretty great. I have an excellent job/career and work for a company I hope to retire from. I have a decent house to live in, a paid off car, many friends that put up with me and I think, actually like me most of the time. I have parents that raised me to do whatever I wanted to do in life and were always in my corner and proud of me, no matter who I voted for. I volunteer as often as I can and even though I have to drive to Greeley to do it, I get to be on the radio every week. I have a sweet, little dog that makes me laugh and keeps me warm as he takes up most of the bed every night. What else? There's a long list of cool stuff I've got going on, so what the heck? Why must I hate on myself for not doing more with my life? And I know I'm not the only one that feels this way. Why are we so hard on ourselves?

I've always felt pretty strongly that since I chose to not have children, I owe something to the world. I feel like I have a responsibility to do more, be more and experience more because I'm not working to raise good people. But do I though? I was talking to a friend this week who's in a new relationship and worried about what people might think. When she mentioned this, I told her that all that matters is how she feels about it. Who gives a rat's ass what others think. What do YOU think? Does it feel right? Are you happy, at least most of the time? Other people don't spend time thinking about our love lives or really, anything we do. Everyone is occupied with their own lives, navel gazing the days away. While I'm thinking about this made-up responsibility and worrying about what others think of me, I'm not actually living my life. It's much more productive to just think about living life instead of worrying over some self-induced pressure I've put on myself, or really, pressure that I'm allowing society to put on me. This malaise, this feeling of weirdness, is why people have affairs, buy silly cars, and generally act out like teenagers. I ain't got time for that nonsense.

All I owe the world is to be kind, truthful, do my best, give generously, and have no expectations. I need to take care of my Nasher, my friends and family, and say fuck all to society's expectations. It's a false flag, fake news, and just plain fucked up. To quote one of my faves, I AM ENOUGH. I also do enough, and so do you. Life is challenging, we all make choices, and most of the time, it's enough to buy the toothpaste that's been on the shopping list for a week.

And just for the record, I've adhered to not buying anything new with one small mishap. I bought a poster and t-shirt at a Yola concert, both brand new of course! I got swept up in the show and how awesome she was - dang it! The t-shirt I'm going to give away as a gift and the poster I feel is sort of okay because I'm supporting the artist, and it's a freakin' cool poster to boot!

Eating the Whole Cow

I've been thinking about how I've resurrected this blog, and well, thinking about how boring it is. I've already run out of things to write about as it pertains to buying or not buying and let's be honest, it's just not that interesting. A decade ago when I decided to not buy anything new, it was sort of a new thing. While there were certainly resale stores and the like, it wasn't hipster like it is now. There are The Minimalists, sparking joy with Marie Kondo, and a new trend where you travel without luggage. Like why? That's like eating head cheese or beef tongue. Haven't we progressed as a society past eating the entire cow? Hey, you do you, but I think we've moved beyond eating food we don't need to in order to survive. And traveling without something to put your toothbrush and magical travel totems into is just silly. For fuck's sake, we have luggage on 360 wheels now! It's a brand new day, people. The movement to use and consume less has spawned a cottage industry of its own. Only in America do we decide to consume less and then monetize it. I mean, really.

After talking to a wise friend, the same friend who wondered why I wanted to deprive myself, I realized that what I really want to do is write, and I think I started up this blog again as an excuse to do so. Like most dedicated, life-long readers, albeit slow in my case, I've  thought of writing a book. Not sure what kind of a book, but a book nonetheless. I started college at Michigan State a declared journalism major and would've graduated with that degree had I not gotten sidetracked by a very mean and petty man trying to teach me a lesson, which is a story for another day. So, I'm going to come clean and declare that I just want to write about stuff, and I'm going to use this blog as an excuse to get into the habit. And because I like a challenge, I will continue to not buy anything new or used and unnecessary, and I might write about that too. I've gone most of January without buying anything new and I've gotta tell ya, it's not that hard.

I'll try to be open and share the odd, and usually funny, things that happen in my world while I practice this writing thing. I've been heartened by friends supporting this endeavor. Like Amy, who sent me a card so I'd get mail without having to buy something to get it - so sweet! And my friend Ann, who offered to let me borrow new books from her so I didn't have to wait for a used paperback. Pure goodness! I'm not going to limit myself and only write about my purchasing habits. They're just not that interesting. I do however, have a pretty interesting life and I'm going to try and share it with you. Believe me, I have no illusions about you continuing to read this blog, but I'd love it if you would. Please share your thoughts with me if so moved, I want to hear about your lives, too.

(Not So) Delayed Gratification

Is delayed gratification meaningful? Is gratification supposed to be meaningful, or merely just gratifying? Before I embarked on my little journey of self-prescribed depravity, I conveniently ordered some stuff online - clothes, tiny earrings, and a very lovely Tiffany ring, therefore delaying gratification. Before anyone gets in a twist about that shiny Tiffany word, I bought it used from Real Real, a great website for used high-end clothes, jewelry, etc. I justified the need part of this purchase by telling myself it was my birthday present to myself, and it was very reasonably priced, I swear!

I conveniently purchased these items knowing they'd be delivered in January and I'd be able to milk my shopping jones a little bit longer. The last delivery of clothes-I-don't-need came last week and as I was putting things away (moving my shit around), I thought about how I'll feel when the only packages I'm getting in the mail are mouthwash, hairspray or my replacement toothbrush head. So flippin' exciting. I love getting the mail, always have. I used to steal it when I was a kid. Sorry, Mom.  Before I unlock my mailbox, I have a flutter of excitement about what's inside. Even if it turns out to be bills and fliers, I still enjoy the potential that a gift of some kind might be included. Knowing that the various and sundry boxes from retail locations far and wide will no longer be sitting on my stoop as I pull into the driveway, well, the thought kinda makes me sad.

One question before me is why is buying new things somehow exciting? What am I not doing while I'm buying some new, and a lot of used, shit? Most of which I really don't need. The next time I get a shopping itch, should I note it and think about something useful I could be doing instead? When I don't see the box of fun sitting on my stoop at the end of the day, should I conjure my bank account in my head and pat myself on the back for saving some cheddar? Where's the gratification in that?

A dear friend brought up something over the weekend that I'm pondering, and that I think has some merit. She's worried about why I feel like I need to deprive myself. Like, when I challenge myself, I have to somehow deprive myself in the process in order for it to really be a challenge. Interesting, huh? Trust me, I've spent some time going without, so I'm not unfamiliar with the sensation, but why am I trying to recreate it? Is this challenge somehow indicative of a larger existential crisis? Maybe crisis is too strong, maybe an existential, thought provoking idea to think about, while I wait at the mailbox.

To Be Continued...

Well, Hello 2020! Here you are, the year that so many of us have used as the north star for myriad of goals. The year when we thought there'd be flying cars, an end to homelessness, and a hangover cure that actually worked. The year that begins a new decade and maybe brings us a new president (fingers crossed). The year I turn 52 - still single, still living with an awesome dog albeit a different one, still wondering what the heck I'm doing with my life.

I decided late in 2019 that I was going to do another year, and maybe forever, of not buying anything new. I forgot that I had called this blog Buy the Way, so it took me half an hour to find it online! And while my initial inclination was to update the name, I think Buy the Way still fits. This will be a place for random thoughts, mostly focused on what and how I spend my money and what that says about my life and my place in the world, if anything. As I said in my first post a decade ago, I like to write and don't do it much, so this gives me that opportunity.

So, another year of not buying anything new, huh? Why do this with focused intention again? There are several reasons but a main one is that I'm tired of moving my 'things' around all of the time. I posted about this a decade ago and it still applies. Think about it - how often are you moving your things around, putting them where they need to go, washing them, organizing them? I just spent the last week over the holidays going through most of the crap in my house. I've taken two huge piles of clothes, jewelry, shoes, and linens to my favorite resale store, Repeat Boutique http://repeatboutiquecolorado.com/. I've taken a lot of random stuff to Arc and a bin full of paper, magazines, etc. ended up in the recycle bin. Not only do I have lots of things, I save lots of pieces of paper. Seriously, why so much paper!?

I already love resale, thrift, flea markets, and antique stores, so doing this isn't a huge stretch. While I do want to reduce my footprint, as it were, I also want to think about how not buying anything new affects my day-to-day. Am I more productive, focused and able to make some long-term goals, try something new perhaps?  Does doing this even help, does anyone care? Does it matter? I might be the only one that cares but I'm good with that. Doing this makes me feel like I'm living my values.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a real good consumer. I buy things I don't need mostly when I'm bored. I think I'm avoiding, unconsciously, being more productive and maybe trying something I'm afraid to do. Scrolling through online stores or Facebook and Instagram, chock full of ads both of them, is truly avoidant of something infinitely cooler. Thankfully, I don't have extravagant taste although my recent addiction to Athleta feels extravagant. At my age, comfort takes precedence over pretty much everything. Wearing clothing that doesn't make me want to kill someone, or at the very least take my bra off at my desk and hope that no one can tell, has become priority number one for me!

There is no shortage of blogs about this topic. See https://www.becomingminimalist.com/ and https://www.theminimalists.com/. While in vogue, I started this experiment a decade ago and let it get away from me. Now I'm steering myself back and writing about my observations, pet peeves, and lessons learned along the way. I still hate public storage units, have too many pairs of black pants, and too many tchotchkes in my house, but I have a decade more of experience living life and hope that it'll serve me well as I embark again on a year of not buying anything new, aka deprivation.

Here are the rules, as of today at least:
No buying of anything new except for health and beauty aids, or HBA's as my friend Julie calls them, medical items - prescriptions and such, underwear, sympathy cards (let's hope I don't need any of those), car parts and pieces (if I'd only taken that car repair class in high school, right Dad?), safety items like lights for running or actual running shoes, cultural items like tickets to shows, etc., and experiential activities like vacation and general travel. Oh, and anything house related that's not decorative like a new furnace, etc.

And here's the new twist for 2020 - not only am I not buying anything new, I'm not going to buy anything I don't NEED. Now need is subjective, so this could get interesting, but we all know I don't need another pair of black pants, so here we go...

Bore, Bored, Boring...

I've always said, to myself mostly, that if you're bored, it's your own fault.  I tend to believe this but lately I've questioned this conventional wisdom.  Is being bored a function of my own inadequacies or is it something put upon me by an apathetic society? Or, is being bored just part of the human condition?

I fill my time with a lot of activity, most of it super awesome, some of it a time filler. I recently learned to sew and this was fulfilling for awhile, now it just seems sad to be sitting at home on a Friday night with my sewing machine. I combat this sad feeling by making stuff for others. Everything I sew, I give away. Somehow this makes it better, but clearly not all better.

I mentioned being bored out of my mind to a friend yesterday and he asked me if it was that I was truly bored or was I just tired of doing stuff by myself, with no one to share it with? Now there's a question for ya.  As an only child, I've been able to hang by myself my whole life without problem. I love traveling alone, going to movies alone, riding and running alone, living alone, etc.  But lately, while I still enjoy doing things by myself, I just haven't gotten that fulfilled feeling I've become accustomed to. I can't control having someone to share my life with (I suppose I could buy someone's affection but I'm broke and I think it's illegal anyway?) so I need to change my attitude about this bored feeling I've been carrying around.

I also get really tired of all the navel gazing. When you do everything by yourself, you spend a lot of time thinking about...yourself. I'm fucking bored with me. I want to think about someone else for a change.

Maybe being bored is just a prelude to something fantastic? Today, I'm going to choose to bend that bored feeling into something else. Not sure what yet, but I'll figure it out. Maybe on that bike ride that I'm doing later today...alone.

Examination

Reflect, re-evaluate, re-examine, re-do, reject, renounce, reduce, renegotiate, rejoice. Today I'm feeling all of the above. How cliche, it's a new year and I join the millions that are trying to figure out the point of it all. I tried to not do too much of it this year but was forced to last week.

This time of year, in addition to all of the navel-gazing, I also get all of my health exams out of the way.  Teeth, eyes, boobs and the undercarriage. It's an exercise in self-flagellation.  All of these appointments fall either on or right around my birthday too, providing numerous opportunities for self-examination.

This year, I had my annual boob smoosh a couple of days before my 45th birthday. It was a routine, normal exam and off I went to work.  A week went by and when I returned from possibly the worst flying experience I've ever had, after a wonderful trip to Chicago, there was a letter in the mail from the boob smooshers.  I opened the letter, skimmed it and did a double take. I apparently needed to schedule another exam because there was something odd on the films.  I immediately knew that it was just my caffeine boob. I've had this fibrous cyst thing going on since my early-thirties and caffeine can make it worse.  With my relatively recent need for caffeine every morning, I was sure that the cysts were angry with my coffee intake.

I talked to Cheryl that night and she said she knew of so many women that had gotten the same letter and it was probably some sort of insurance thing and I shouldn't worry about it. Intellectually, I wasn't worried about it but there was a small voice deep inside that was worried.  I spent the next week and a half quieting that small voice with intellectual discussions about caffeine boob, knowing that if it was something, I would deal with it.

To make a short story shorter, I had my follow-up exam earlier this week and all is well. It was caffeine boob after all.  What I will tell you is that while sitting and waiting for the radiologist to read the new films of my left breast, I was hyper-conscience of the elevator music playing, the fresh laundry smell of the not-so-fancy robe I was wearing, my pleasure in reading the months-old copies of O Magazine and the above 50 degree temperature and beautiful blue sky outside the comfortable yet sterile environment. It was like I wouldn't be able to experience these things again if the radiologist came back with bad news and I wanted to soak in and remember the whole of the experience.  

In the grand scheme this episode was not that big of a deal but it was certainly another moment to be reminded that illuminating one of life's minor threats gives one pause, or should. Reflecting on the import of the seemingly small details that make up a life is always a good time to re-examine, renounce and re-do whatever one can to fully live, in and out of every moment.

Rejection

Let's just say, I've been rejected quite a bit over the past (nearly) 45 years.  The first thing that comes to mind is probably romantic rejection, right?  While, yes, that's happened a few times and was especially awesome when I summoned up the courage to do the asking out only to find out the guy I liked, liked guys; I've certainly been rejected more in my day-to-day life.

Everyone always says that rejection builds character. Rejection gives you a thick skin, people say. I must have the skin of a turtle. Of course, turtles have a shell so that must be what I have. No wonder I never get asked out. People say that you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find your prince. I've kissed - well, we'll just move on.

As a professional fundraiser, or as my dad fondly says, professional beggar, I hear rejection on a daily basis. "No, I don't want to give you any money."  "I'm sorry but I can't give you anything this year."  "We really like you but my budget is gone for the year, how about this chotskie no one else would buy, for your silent auction?"  To be fair, I do hear quite a few yeses but, of course, hearing no rings louder.

One of my best rejection stories is about how I got fired from a hotel front desk job - on my birthday -  over the phone. Even though I totally deserved to get canned, did it have to be on my birthday? Couldn't she have looked at my file or something and maybe picked a different day? I actually don't remember what birthday it was - 22 or 23, I think. So, I was old enough to drink it off which I'm sure I did, which is why I can't remember what birthday it was.

The latest story in the seemingly long thread of rejection tales is when I got canned from the mall earlier this month.  I had taken this job for some extra cash to pay down my debt. A seemingly easy gig with decent hours that I had no qualms about handling.  My only concern was figuring out time to get to the gym in between all the gift card selling and my regular job.

The week after Thanksgiving I walked in to said mall job and heard my 'boss' summon me into his office.  He didn't really summon me; he said my name to which I stopped at his office door. Now keep in mind, this was the second conversation with my 'boss' I'd had since hiring on in September. I stood at his office door and he awkwardly looked at me and I realized he actually wanted me to enter his office and have a seat.  What a goofball.  Anyway, I sit and he tells me 'that it's just not working out' and that I needed to turn in my key and leave, right then.  The movie "Office Space" came to mind and I thought about a red Streamline stapler and a dark basement. I said, "Seriously?"  He proceeded to tell me that he was going to pay me for that night but I needed to go.  What the fuck?  At this point, I got a little angry. Okay, a lot angry.  I asked him why and all he could muster was that I had left the gift card drawer unlocked and that this didn't mean I was a bad person or anything.

In the nine shifts that I had worked at this silly job, I had made about three seemingly egregious errors. I had left the drawer unlocked - once. I had messed up an entry into the gift card software - once. And on my first day, I had given away, unbeknownst to me, the wrong, poorly labeled door prize to someone. Clearly, all horrible, fireable offenses.  As I left the building, I immediately thought about what a horrible person I must be. I had just helped raise $55K at a Turkey Trot fundraiser but couldn't quite handle running a credit card machine or selling tickets to see Santa.

After a couple of days of feeling like a total loser, I went back to my normal headspace of 'everything happens for a reason' and I got over it. I didn't, however, get over what an incompetent 'boss' I had at that job.  If an employee is screwing up so badly don't you think they deserve the courtesy of knowing how they're messing up?  It appears that the full-time gal that gave me my 20-minute training has also been axed.  Clearly, something else was up and I got caught in the crossfire. Or, I'm just a loser that can't handle a credit card machine.

On to 2013, I say!  2012, on many levels, was not a good year for many, many people.  So much heartbreak and pain, death and destruction.  Even though I, personally, was not touched by the numerous tragedies that took place this year, I think everyone is peripherally affected. Tragedy on the level we saw this year seeps into a person's soul. I've cried at my desk way too many times this year as I read about the latest killing spree or gang rape or car accident.

I don't have a traditional New Year's Resolution today, just the sense that I'm going to try a little harder to be less judgmental, more loving and to tell the people I care about that they mean something to me, for what it's worth. I'm going to try to be more mindful of this moment because as I heard someone say last night, 'this' moment is all there is.

Happy New Year!

Another Lifestyle Center Friday Night

This Lifestyle Center Friday night doesn't include dancing to a local Journey cover band like last year's experience.  This Lifestyle Center Friday night, let's call it LCFN for short, is being spent working at the mall office to help pay off my root canal bill from this summer.  Right now, dancing to "Don't Stop Believing" sounds much more fulfilling.

This part-time gig isn't so bad, truly.  I sit here and sell gift cards to the masses - no masses yet but I'm hopeful. Instead, I've answered some odd questions like the one last night from a fella holding a small child who asked me if we had a diaper dispenser machine. Do they even make those?  Seriously?

Most of the time I chat with the security guard, check my Facebook, LinkedIn, work email, Yahoo account (where tonight I deleted 804 sent emails dating back to 2005) and my gmail. I move on from there to check into Huffington Post and E! online. After exhausting all of that, last night I got excited when I remembered that I could browse through my Pinterest too! That lasted about 10 minutes and then I started to knit.  So, basically I'm being paid to stay up-to-date on NPR, the latest DIY project, slow-cooker recipes and to knit.

Tonight, I got excited when I realized I could write a blog post to feel productive!  This after dealing with a highly pissed off dude who came in to pick up a gift card that wasn't here. The gift card was for the woman with him who didn't utter a word during the entire interaction. Very odd and disturbing. Again reminding me of how dealing with the public can sometimes be a total pain in the ass. What is it about the service industry that says, "Hey, I'm here to help you but I'd really enjoy it if you talked down to me and treated me like crap." Anywho, after flipping him off in my mind, I'm going back to Pinterest and my knitting. And thinking about how nice it will be to pay off my new tooth!

Random Musings
(because I feel the need to write but have nothing noteworthy to write about)

I always feel like I've got nothing going on, nothing exciting, nothing to talk about and nowhere to go.  I talk with Cheryl and I find myself saying, "I got nothing" repeatedly. She says it too and I find that we're both totally lying when we say it!

I've always said, "If you're bored, it's your fault." While I do spend a bit of time bemoaning my singledom every now and then, most of the time I find that I have no time to do all that I want to do. I think if I were coupled it would be annoying figuring out when to spend time with said fella. As my married friends remind me, it's not always that great being married either.  I guess you pick your poison, huh?

The highlights of the last month or so:
I saw Rise Against and Gaslight Anthem in Denver and Rise Against was incredible - political, loud, smart, amazing.  I also saw the Afghan Whigs on their reunion tour 3 days before one of my biggest events at work and don't regret it one bit.  I definitely should've been sleeping and working more that week but I had to take time out to see Greg Dulli again. As an added bonus, my friend Ken, who I met in college and worked at a record store with, was at the show with his beautiful lady-friend after recently moving to this great state.

I started reading "Anna Karenina" so find myself turning down NPR so I don't hear about the movie that's coming out. All the reviewers assume everyone knows the whole story.  I went to such a small school that NONE of the classics were required reading. I've read them all as an adult and there are many more on the list. So many books, so little time.

I've learned to use my sewing machine and have made numerous pillows and am now one of those women at JoAnn Fabrics on a Saturday night.  I would much rather spend time sewing than out on the town. I don't know what that says about me but I have a lot of pillows to show for my time. If you're a friend of mine, expect one for Christmas.

I finally caught up with a couple of friends last weekend that I haven't seen in what seems like months and it was so nice to just sit, eat and catch up with them.  My isolation needs keep me separate, sometimes for longer than is healthy.

November 6th came and went and a collective sigh was heard amongst those of us voting for Obama.  I cried tears of joy and relief watching the returns, and a drunkie Diane Sawyer, on election night.  My parents are here for the Thanksgiving holiday and my desperate hope is that politics do not come up anywhere in conversation.  I've refrained from putting my Obama sticker on my car and have put away any remnants of the election in my house.  I'm trying to adhere to the Jefferson quote: "I never considered a difference of opinion in politics, in religion, in philosphy, as cause for withdrawing from a friend." If Kid Rock and Sean Penn can do it, so can I.

I've seen a couple of great movies, and a few not so great, yeah, you, "Magic Mike."  "Argo" was incredible and my fantasy love affair with Ben Affleck continues (even though I do like Matt Damon better). Especially now since Mr. Affleck is developing a screenplay to direct "The Stand."  Yesterday, I saw "The Sessions" with Helen Hunt and John Hawkes. There were three people in the theatre with all of the others full of Twi-hards.  I'm no prude but this movie was a bit of a challenge to watch. It's based on an article written by Mark O'Brien, a disabled poet who, as a virgin in his late thirties, hired a sex surrogate to remedy his situation.  This movie, while uncomfortable at times, is so worth seeing.  The acting is incredibly brave, a marvel, really.  It reinforces the fact that humans have a lot of sexual hangups that keep us from experiencing true intimacy and love, in all forms.


Well, that's it. See, "I got nothing," ain't true. Now onto the next thing!

Random Synchronicity

After a couple of weeks of discombobulation, nothing major, just a general feeling of malaise, I once again feel centered. (I really hate that phrase because, truly one is never off-center if you believe everything is happening the way its designed. Sorry, I digress.)

I have a big event at work in about a month and have found myself waking up at 4 a.m. the past few nights worrying that it won't come together.  On Monday and Tuesday of this past week I watched "Half the Sky" on PBS and afterward felt that I clearly don't do enough to justify my existence on this planet. On Wednesday, along with most of the country, I watched the Presidential Debate and afterward felt, not hopeful, but disappointed. And I've taken on a new part-time job and am worried that it will bite into my relatively lax lifestyle.

I have a couple of mantras that I've clung to for years that have served me well but, like everyone, I get sidetracked and forget them when I get overwhelmed with life.  The first one is 'Everything happens for a reason.' Trite, to some, but to me those five words have gotten me through some difficult times.  The second is 'Whatever needs to happen will happen.' This second mantra I put into play while at United Way when I felt responsible for the $4 million dollars a year we raised at that time along with every campaign, every event and generally a little too much to be honest.  This second mantra serves me well as an event planner responsible for a nice chunk of fundraising but also for every donor's experience at any of our events.

Here in my beautiful town the temperature got down low enough this week for me to justify turning on my furnace.  I had forgotten that at the end of winter this spring I came home to a 90 degree house as the furnace had kicked on and stayed on all day while I was away.  So this week when I turned it on and it stayed on I immediately went to the worst case scenario where I'd need a new furnace costing thousands of dollars or at the very minimum I'd need to call a tech to have it looked at which would cost a couple hundred dollars.  As you know, I've recently started my Total Money Makeover and don't quite have my $1000 emergency fund established so was totally worried about having to put whatever this furnace repair would cost on my credit card.

On Friday, I got home from work and immediately headed out for a run in the wonderfully cold air.  As I was running I realized that my furnace is probably fine. It kicks on and off and I had it inspected last year.  It came to me that the problem is probably the thermostat!  This device looks to be as old as my house, about 35 years or so.  So yesterday I went a purchased a new thermostat, for $26, and will install it today.  It really think this is the issue - have total confidence in this in fact.

After that run my general malaise disappeared.  Certainly, the run itself is therapeutic, but more importantly my mind was quiet for about an hour and I could see more clearly.  The gala will come together just fine and no matter what I do with my life, I'm doing enough. Whichever man becomes our next President, life will go on and the new gig is purposeful and short term. I can do anything for a month and my naps can wait for 30 days.

Today at church Lynn talked about peace of mind. Truly, when you have peace of mind, everything seems to fall into place.

btw - if you haven't seen "Half the Sky" please put it on our list. Incredible. Sad. Transformative. Important.

It's been a weird year, for me, for a lot of people. Some good weird, some bad but in the end, or today at least, I'm feeling optimistic and healthy. I'm sitting at my favorite Fort Collins coffee shop listening to the Silversun Pickups and basically enjoying life.

Recently, I felt like the pieces of some giant puzzle have fallen into place.  I have a sense of calm that's palpable. This week I read a book about getting your financial shit together and I realized that I've just been playing around with this determination to eliminate my debt. I've riddled off excuses as to why I have it in the first place and being single sits at the top of the list. That's a silly excuse. Getting rid of this debt will be a challenge but I feel like I have the tools to do it now.  I estimate it will take me two years to get rid of it ALL, once and for all.  I've also realized that writing about it can be kind of dull. 'Ooooh - I made a payment on my credit card today - how exciting!'  Instead, I think I'll write about whatever I feel like.  There are no rules to this thing and really, it's just for me anyway, so who cares, right?

So, today's topic is music.  I'm dismayed that my local NPR station changed it's schedule and I can't listen to World Cafe at noon and 7pm anymore.  Quite the bummer.  World Cafe is where I hear a lot of new tunes and now instead of just hearing them come out of my computer at work or on the radio while I cook dinner, I have to go in search of said new tunes.

I have a coworker that's in her early 60's and she still enjoys cranking out the tunes while driving. She listens to classic rock mostly and I bought her the latest Tedeschi Trucks record from last year, which she loves. She told me the other day, after driving me somewhere, that she thinks she needs to start listening to music more appropriate for her age group.

What is appropriate for my age group, I wonder? I thought about this the other day while driving home singing along loudly to the Gaslight Anthem.  How foolish does one look, at 44, singing along to a rock record?  After thinking about it for like, a second, I realized I could care less about what is appropriate. Who determines 'appropriate' anyway?  I hope that when I'm in my 60's I'm still listening to whatever appeals to me at the time and not trying to adhere to some societal appropriate playlist.

This all makes me think of something my ex-boyfriend did many years ago when we were in our early 30's. He had bought this new-to-him old Subaru which apparently didn't have good enough speakers in which to crank out his record of choice at that time in his life - Kid Rock's Bawitdaba.  He took the speakers out of the house and hooked them up in the back of this Subaru wagon and drove around with the windows down and Kid Rock blaring.  I was so embarrassed at the time but I would congratulate his crafty nature if it happened now.

And, I'm super excited about seeing Rise Against and The Gaslight Anthem next week in Denver. I know I won't be the oldest one there and really, who cares anyway?  I still rock out with the best of them!

Pro-Choice

It's all the rage now, being frugal. You see 'experts' on TV shows talking about saving vegetable scraps to make soup (a tad extreme for most of us) and how you can turn an old t shirt into a snappy reusable bag. I then read an article about how a family of four has a hard time living on six figures. This family actually spends $1000 a month on food - that's not a typo - $1000 a month. What the hell? I honestly don't think I could spend $1000 a month on food if I tried. Not even at Whole Foods. This family also spends over $15,000 a year to send a kid to private school and spends $175 a month on their cable bill amongst other expenses.

I read said article while waiting to go into a meeting with a coworker. I was reading parts of it to her and she was sort of taking their side. I told her it really isn't about sides, it's about choices - in my opinion, which I know is worth about buck and a quarter. People spend what they make - we all do. I've found that there are few exceptions to the rule - one being my friend Julie. I have no idea exactly how much she makes but I know that she's a smart saver. I would bet my house that they're set for retirement, at the age of 45. And I have no judgement against rich people, none at all. Some of my best friends are loaded. Anyway, back to choices. If you choose to send your child to private school and pay $2100 a year to watch TV, then those are your choices which means you don't get to complain about not making enough money. In today's world anyone that complains about making more than six figures and not being able to 'make it' is either ignorant, stupid or both. I know everyone is struggling on some level 'in this economy' but once again, to me, it's about choices.

You know who doesn't get to make the choice of paying $15,000 to send their kid to private school? MOST PEOPLE!

I feel that I make a really decent salary for the job that I do yet I am on the hook for some serious credit card debt. I do not, nor have I ever, blamed anyone but myself. I made some shitty decisions, some decisions I felt backed into a corner to make and some simply frivolous choices - like when I think it's prudent to purchase yet another pair of black pants at Macy's (I recently paid off that card, by the way).

The recent choices I've been making are all about paying off my debt so that I can travel to Italy next year for my 45th birthday. These choices come up everyday. We live in such a consumer culture that every single day I am making choices on what not to buy, what do I really need, etc. The really cool side effect of my constant attention to paying off my debt is that since I've started seeing progress, I've felt my life open up a bit. Feeling like I'm getting rid of the giant Chase credit card that I've been dragging around is freeing me up to try some new things, be adventurous and think about possibilities that I thought were out of my ballpark. Taking control of my financial situation gives me a sense of confidence I had long ago buried.

Saying no has a lot of power. It allows me to say yes more and I'm getting good at it.

One of the Best Days

In my life it's almost a holiday. With a few clicks and a few stamps I'm able to check off some major line items on my life list of things to do. The day I get my tax return is quite magical, really.

Ever since I've made a mortgage payment instead of paying rent I've gotten some fat tax refund checks. All that interest adds up. Last year I received my biggest refund but had to pay $2500 to cut down a giant, dead Cottonwood tree in my front yard. I was glad I had the cash to do it but super sad that I couldn't pay off some debt with that money.

That's what I do every year - pay off debt. I was able to pay off over $3000 worth of debt this year and I can't tell you how amazing it feels! I have a ZERO balance on my Macy's card, for one and less than $100 left on a couple of other stupid credit cards. I will not set foot inside a Macy's for the rest of the year, and hopefully longer. The fat (or is it phat?) tax return also allows me to take care of other things I otherwise would have to put off or just not do. I'm able to get Cadence's teeth cleaned, pay off a couple of doctor bills that weren't covered by my insurance and finally pay off the tree limb clean up bill (all $500 of it!) from the big storm we had back in October. Few things feel better (maybe sex but let's not talk about that).

The Austerity Plan is in full effect and life is good.

Opportunity

Because so much of my musical inclination is stuck in 1992 (and how nice is it that this sound is considered 'new' again). I've found my new favorite band - Yuck. Yep, that's their name, Yuck.

Due to my year-long sabbatical from purchasing music on iTunes my dear friend Chris sent me a flash drive filled with records, old and new, for my birthday. This is where I found a folder titled Yuck. I thought it was music he didn't like but that he thought maybe I would. I looked it up, Yuck is an actual band! They sound like a British Soul Asylum with Sonic Youth overtones. Nice. There is so much music on this drive I don't think I'll even want to look at iTunes for a couple of months. Thanks, Chris!

A little bit of serendipity occurred on Thursday last week. To spare you all the silly details suffice it to say I need to quit doing something that I've been doing for over 20 years in order to get my health in order. As I was resigning myself to this fact I got a call from my friend, Mary. I've known Mary for going on 20 years and a couple of months ago I asked her if she could possibly get me an entry into the Colorado Half Marathon. She helps organize the kid race for the event. I rarely, if ever, ask for free entries into things but I thought it was worth a try since the $90 entry free was not part of my austerity plan for the year and I knew Mary wouldn't be offended by my asking. Long story short, I got one!

Getting this entry requires quite a bit of training, training that I can't do while doing the thing I need to stop doing. So there ya go - I need to stop doing something bad for me but I now have a goal of something I want to do so the quitting will be easier. I'm looking at it not as I can't do this thing anymore but instead as I get to run the half marathon again!

And training starts today.

Down With Complaining

I've long been a glass-half-full type of gal. I truly believe in the power of our thoughts and that our lives can be a manifestation of said thoughts. (Not like if I just think of owning a totally refurbished Karmann Ghia it will magically appear. More like, 'what you focus on expands' type of thinking.)

Lately, it seems there's a lot of complaining going on. Not like there's a shortage of things to complain about but it does seem like there's been a proliferation of negative thought of late. What with unemployment, insurance reform, the holidays, Katy Perry's divorce, the 2012 election getting under way, and my neighbors insistence on parking in front of my house, there's a lot of shit to be pissed off about.

New Year's resolutions always seem to be about what we're going to quit doing,s as I was reminded of in church today. I've had plenty of resolutions of things to quit doing over the years and sort of have more this year by cutting out concerts, traveling, 5K races and buying anything new. When I first thought of my 'year of austerity' I spent a lot of time focused on what I wasn't going to be doing - I made a list so I would remember everything. At first, I was a little sad thinking about what this year was going to be like without all of my normal activity. At first.

Soon after I made this list of things I wasn't going to indulge in during 2012, I found myself getting a little excited about the possibilities ahead. How I was going to have to be more creative in my thinking in order to keep myself entertained and fulfilled, how there are so many free things to do in the town, how I could spend more time being crafty and making things for friends, how I could run more, how I could read some of the books I've been putting off, and so much more.

I am choosing to focus on cutting my debt in half - that's it. Nothing Earth-shattering but still important to me. By focusing on the positive fulfillment of cutting my debt I can look at saying no to an event or concert or whatever as a good thing and not look at it from a point of lack.

It's all how you look at it, or think about it.

I still can't stand it when my neighbors park in front of my house but that's another story.

Sidenote: Cadence needs his teeth cleaned. The quotes I got from a variety of vets in town ranged from $287 to $850 not including blood work, extractions, etc (why do they even give you a low number when it doesn't include everything?). Let's just say that Cadence and I will be taking a road trip to Cheyenne for a complete dental cleaning including all the incidentals for $250 - $350. In an effort to focus on the positive, I will spare you my diatribe on the ridiculousness of spending $850 to get my sweet Cadence's teeth cleaned. Now I just need to find something to do in Cheyenne for the day while I wait.

New Goals - New Headache - New Year

This austerity plan is kinda hard (she says, whining). While the Greeks march, I sit at home wondering how to have fun on zero budget. It's actually not all that bad, yet.

I've spent the last month or so looking at my budget every which way possible and have cut lots of things out and reduced others and I've already said no to a variety of activities that would've normally been in my 'fun' budget. While cutting away, feeling groovy and a little too sure of myself and my goal to reduce half of my debt by 2013, I, of course, got shot down a couple of notches by crap that I have really no control over. I got my January mortgage bill in the mail the other day and for no reason I can see, Bank of America is tacking on $10 a month to my escrow payment. Why for, I ask? I was going to give them a jingle but figure that will be a colossal waste of time. I think it's because they believe my taxes are going to increase in 2012. Whatever, there's not a damn thing I can do about it.

The other setback is that I've desperately needed a new bed for at least a year now. I've been sleeping on an almost 20-year-old mattress left over from my last relationship. I think even my dog Cadence was over it as he's been sleeping on the love seat in my bedroom instead of in his rightful place next to my head. After a bit of research, I purchased the cheapest but highest quality bed I could afford and will be making interest-free payments of $65 a month for all of 2012. Fuck. I am sleeping better but still - fuck. It's not like I can buy a used bed - ewwww.

One way I save money is to buy Groupon or Living Social coupons for things I already would be buying. I saved a bunch on Christmas gifts, have saved on food, a massage, entry into the Denver Zoo for me and my junior partner, etc. I use these social buying coupons like I do pretty much everything else - if I need it, I'll buy it, look at it or pursue it. Otherwise, I'm not all that interested. I don't go to the library unless I'm in need of a specific book, I don't troll the Internet unless I'm looking for something in particular - the definition of a particular word or phrase, where something is or how old someone is, Ryan Gosling, for example. (I will say that since I've discovered Pinterest I am trolling a bit more but I'm still looking for stuff - ways to make something cool, ideas for work, etc.)

Since the advent of the cell phone I've heard various people complain about 'not having time' to deal with whatever piece of technology is being talked about. I recently heard this about Groupon when I mentioned a great deal to someone at work. This person said they didn't have time to deal with Groupon, 'it's too much work.' You get the idea. I've always been annoyed by this statement in regards to technology - or anything for that matter. It's not like someone is holding a gun to your head telling you to buy an iPhone, download iTunes and buy the latest Beyonce record. Like most things in life (at least for now), using technology is a choice. If it doesn't fit into my life and somehow make it better, I'm not doing it. YOU TOO, have this choice! Really, it's just laziness. I can say this because I've been this person - slow to sign up and check out something new because I'm afraid I won't understand how it works. This is valid but really no excuse nowadays. You can figure pretty much anything out as long as you have access to an Internet connection - library anyone?

Happy New Year!

(Sidenote - today, I'm writing this from a local coffee shop where some old dude sitting across from me talked to himself for about an hour as he read the paper. He got ready to leave, put the paper aside and proceeded to zip up his pants and buckle his belt which had been undone the entire time. Weird.)