What is a smoothie to you? This past week and a half or so, I have had the ever-challenging task of feeding myself. What to eat is a HUGE topic. Americans everywhere read about it, write about it, think about it..... The effort we must all put into feeding ourselves is a challenge, for many different reasons. Some of us feed too often. Others forget too often (I still haven't figured out how these people do that. I never forget.) Many of us struggle not with how often, but with WHAT to eat. In my case, I have a hard time digesting dairy. And things with lots of oil. I even had a long period of time where I couldn't eat veggies and other "ruffage" type food. I have an aversion to eating a lot of meat. This made about 80% of the food found at the supermarket useless to me and I quickly acquired an aversion to grocery shopping. Freak, I know. The digestive system is a beast. A picky beast.
But alas, I have found a safe haven. I have found this in the beauty and simplicity of "The Smoothie". Healthy. Has Fruit. Has yogurt. I can add "boosts" to it to make it even more healthy. It's got ice (as good as a glass of water), it's cold, and I find it very filling and satisfying. The perfect summer food. I have had one almost every day since my parents left town and have caused me to have to fend for my own meals. All other meals are either grubbed off of somebody else or consist of whatever random things may still be in the fridge and cupboards of my kitchen ( I ate gold fish and ice cream for dinner one night).
I am but a few days shy of reverting back to yesteryears where all I ate was peanut butter & jelly and burritos from the freezer. For months. But I still think it would be worth the price of my cherished smoothie. With using these food rations, I can afford to get my lovely, delectable smoothie pretty much every day and still not spend ridiculous amounts of money on food. In reality, I could go to the grocery store. But then I would have to give up my smoothie.
The Smoothie is my new love for food. It is every wish I have for in a summer meal: sweet, cold, fruity, easy, drinkable, nonfattening, easily digestible, guilt-free, fast, affordable and accessible. It comes in many varieties and the whole fruit kinds are not TOO sweet. MMMMM MMMMM Good. A smoothie is my reason for taking lunch. It is my thirst quencher. It is my tide-me-over happy food till the folks return and actually bring real food around the house.
What's your smoothie?
Friday, June 29, 2007
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
A big Word: "Love"
So, I have been doing a lot of thinking about his wonderful word, as have many people, and I wanted to have a conversation about it with my dear sweet co-blogger before I posted this, but alas, my co-blogger runs to the ends of the earth to be busier and better than I. For I am forlorn and lost, a loser without a place, destined to be drifting in the whirlwinds of an endless emotionless torment, undefined by passion, language, or speech.
So, anyways, because there are so many different forms and kinds of love, and all that broad vagueness associated with feeling emotion, and the unquantifiable X factor, I will try to limit this post to "Love" in the context of pursuing a romantic relationship.
And in that context, I do not ask when is it appropriate to use it, but what does it mean?
about.com states it as "A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness."
I guess the part that I usually get hung up on is, and this is where I might diverge from a lot of people. While I agree that love is a strong emotional response, a bigger question is, what does that mean. I often think of love as, at a minimum, a desire for commitment. Not a representation of commitment, but a desire to be committed to that person, however you define commitment. (Please remember this is only in the context of pursuing a romantic interest.)
The reason I say that is because, without the commitment portion, I don't think there is really a big difference between love and like. A degree of emotion could be the only difference, but what does a deeper sense of emotion mean if not a desire to be committed. Now, I am not going to say that commitment means marriage, or even exclusive dating, although, culturally I would argue that it is very relevant for marriage, and my gut instinct is it is relevant in exclusive dating, and that using the ol' L word is brash and unscrupulous before at a minimum exclusive dating. Granted circumstances do arise where you were dating, and are still in love with someone, and then you are in other circumstances, yada yada.
But my gut instinct is you have to have gotten there at some point in the timeline.
Anyways, so what is love? Is it just emotion? Is it commitment? Just a desire? Is it crazy? (Well, we all know the answer to that!)
So, anyways, because there are so many different forms and kinds of love, and all that broad vagueness associated with feeling emotion, and the unquantifiable X factor, I will try to limit this post to "Love" in the context of pursuing a romantic relationship.
And in that context, I do not ask when is it appropriate to use it, but what does it mean?
about.com states it as "A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness."
I guess the part that I usually get hung up on is, and this is where I might diverge from a lot of people. While I agree that love is a strong emotional response, a bigger question is, what does that mean. I often think of love as, at a minimum, a desire for commitment. Not a representation of commitment, but a desire to be committed to that person, however you define commitment. (Please remember this is only in the context of pursuing a romantic interest.)
The reason I say that is because, without the commitment portion, I don't think there is really a big difference between love and like. A degree of emotion could be the only difference, but what does a deeper sense of emotion mean if not a desire to be committed. Now, I am not going to say that commitment means marriage, or even exclusive dating, although, culturally I would argue that it is very relevant for marriage, and my gut instinct is it is relevant in exclusive dating, and that using the ol' L word is brash and unscrupulous before at a minimum exclusive dating. Granted circumstances do arise where you were dating, and are still in love with someone, and then you are in other circumstances, yada yada.
But my gut instinct is you have to have gotten there at some point in the timeline.
Anyways, so what is love? Is it just emotion? Is it commitment? Just a desire? Is it crazy? (Well, we all know the answer to that!)
Monday, June 25, 2007
The Golden Snitch
What is the Golden Snitch? Or for that matter, who is the golden snitch? After receiving a rather late phone call the other day from a dear sweet friend of undefinable relation, I wondered to myself am I their golden snitch?
In the game of Quidditch, you can bust your butt the whole game long, dodging bludgers, blocking quaffles, but without the golden snitch, good luck winning.
This dear sweet relation prone to late night phone calls is raising teenagers, who I happen to be in the rather unassuming yet comfortable position of having befriended, enjoying their company, and seem to be more so of a confidant, wise in the ways of dark, sinful and exploratory life. What better tease is there for teenagers. I feel like I am going after Hansel and Grettel.
Anyways, I delay. So, the phone call consists of, "Hi", "How are you?", "Has our teenager ever talked to you about ...."
Now, my initial response to this was, "Oh, no you didn't!" (say that in your head with some sort of urbanesque dropping of important letters and syllables, with a hand up, and that awkward yet attitude demonstrating pose of getting in someone's face!) Of course, I didn't say that, but I thought to myself, how do I answer this oh so assuming and yet very invasive question?
These questions were then followed up with questions of my personal habits or behaviors, which I was also none to thrilled about. In the end, I felt like an abused step child, beaten until I could scream no more. They gave me the truth serum, and I fought it as best I could. (mind you, plausible deniability is a wonderful thing, even in situations dealing with those of undefinable relation!!) So, the "yes we talked about it, but I don't remember anything specific or earth shattering, was a wonderful statement (it happened to also be the truth! Hallelujah for bad memories!)
Am I the golden snitch? Do I want to be the golden snitch? Are they crazy and mean for putting me in the snitch position at all? I am sure anyone who is a parent is dying to have a golden snitch, but doesn't that betray all likelihood of friendship? I guess if there was something desperately wrong, but I would probably be the instigator of the conversation in that respect than otherwise.
Is the golden snitch really the key to the game? Or in the end, do you just have to say "Oh, no you didn't!"
In the game of Quidditch, you can bust your butt the whole game long, dodging bludgers, blocking quaffles, but without the golden snitch, good luck winning.
This dear sweet relation prone to late night phone calls is raising teenagers, who I happen to be in the rather unassuming yet comfortable position of having befriended, enjoying their company, and seem to be more so of a confidant, wise in the ways of dark, sinful and exploratory life. What better tease is there for teenagers. I feel like I am going after Hansel and Grettel.
Anyways, I delay. So, the phone call consists of, "Hi", "How are you?", "Has our teenager ever talked to you about ...."
Now, my initial response to this was, "Oh, no you didn't!" (say that in your head with some sort of urbanesque dropping of important letters and syllables, with a hand up, and that awkward yet attitude demonstrating pose of getting in someone's face!) Of course, I didn't say that, but I thought to myself, how do I answer this oh so assuming and yet very invasive question?
These questions were then followed up with questions of my personal habits or behaviors, which I was also none to thrilled about. In the end, I felt like an abused step child, beaten until I could scream no more. They gave me the truth serum, and I fought it as best I could. (mind you, plausible deniability is a wonderful thing, even in situations dealing with those of undefinable relation!!) So, the "yes we talked about it, but I don't remember anything specific or earth shattering, was a wonderful statement (it happened to also be the truth! Hallelujah for bad memories!)
Am I the golden snitch? Do I want to be the golden snitch? Are they crazy and mean for putting me in the snitch position at all? I am sure anyone who is a parent is dying to have a golden snitch, but doesn't that betray all likelihood of friendship? I guess if there was something desperately wrong, but I would probably be the instigator of the conversation in that respect than otherwise.
Is the golden snitch really the key to the game? Or in the end, do you just have to say "Oh, no you didn't!"
Monday, June 18, 2007
Tech Support Epiphany
I had a light bulb moment this morning. This occurred, mystifyingly, while dealing with the tech support at my work. Don't get any crazy ideas. It's not because my tech support is enlightening. They're anything BUT that. In fact, my experiences with them are very repetitive. They goes something like this:
1)I run into a problem with one of the program we use.
2) I call them.
3) Sometimes they don't answer for a while -- like maybe two or three days. Sometimes they do answer.
4) I tell them my problem.
5) They tell me all the reasons from 5 years to the present why I am having this problem, how hard it is to fix, how they like to do things, what we should have done previously so we wouldn't ever run into this problem, and exactly how awful and bad it is.
6) Then they tell me they don't know how to fix it yet, but they'll get back to me.
This little interlude usually ends with me figuring it out before they get back to me, calling my brother dearest to get me out of my mess because he is wise in the ways of computers, getting bad advice from tech support when they finally do get back to me, all of the above, or, on rare occasion, them getting back to me after a bit and actually resolving my problem.
It reminds me of dealing with mechanics. I feel like they're just trying to freak me out about things I don't understand, make me feel bad for mistakes I may have unknowingly made in the past that have lead me to this awful state, and praise the Lord I found them to spend LOADS of money to fix my problem. Since I despise emotional manipulation regarding things I have no emotional attachment to (like, say, cars and computers), this does not go over well with me and just makes me hate dealing with them. Leave the emotionally charged, dire straits, finger pointing nonsense at the door please. Tell me what needs to be done, present and future, and lets move on.
Here is my epiphany. In this particular situation, we've been over the causes. I've been working with these people for the past year. Fortunately, in this case, these problems aren't even my fault, as they came to be aeons before I started working at this organization. On the plus side, I am (unlike some people) very responsive and easy to work with. If you want to do something, fix something or have a question, I am reachable and happy to help. So, note to tech support: If you want to fix all this stuff, CALL ME AND FIX IT ALREADY. I don't want to hear all the reasons we have a problem. I don't want to talk about how bad it is that we're still with this service provider. I want to look to solutions, I want to move on. I do not want to dwell in whatever chaotic techy past that they so love to peruse with me.
On the broader spectrum, I think people, including myself, may do this in our own lives. We dwell on the problems and the causes . We meditate on how they may have affected us and how that may influence how we go about fixing our problems. Meanwhile, the fixing always remains a future tense kind of activity.
I see this sometimes in my logic when dealing with Male. I get upset because he did something that I consider to be a problem. Then all the emotions come back from when this has previously been a problem, why I hate it, how awful it is, etc, etc etc... It takes me a while to comeback down from this whirlwinded emotional frenzy. I think, in previous relationships, I used to stay there, immoveable, hurt that I was in this situation and sometimes even baffled. But I have learned over time. Now, I can take the situation from where it is, figure out what to do about it, and move on accordingly. I don't continue to bring it up, rehash it over and over again, punish the wrongdoer, teach somebody "a lesson", or dwell on how to fix the problem in the future.
We can be taught. Thank heavens. Now to only deduce all the other areas where I need to apply this invaluable lesson. I say to myself and all of you who may do this, MOVE ON AND GET TO THE FIXING ALREADY. In the end, the cause is really a minute part of the whole fixing process, and life would be so much better and more functional if we would stop rehashing, going over what we already know, and start moving forward. It's a very "Meet The Robinson's" kind of message. But if your experiences in dealing with this are any bit as frustrating as dealing with my tech support ( I suspect it could be even more so. what a scary thought), believe you me, it's SOOOOOO HOOO HOOO HOOO worth it.
1)I run into a problem with one of the program we use.
2) I call them.
3) Sometimes they don't answer for a while -- like maybe two or three days. Sometimes they do answer.
4) I tell them my problem.
5) They tell me all the reasons from 5 years to the present why I am having this problem, how hard it is to fix, how they like to do things, what we should have done previously so we wouldn't ever run into this problem, and exactly how awful and bad it is.
6) Then they tell me they don't know how to fix it yet, but they'll get back to me.
This little interlude usually ends with me figuring it out before they get back to me, calling my brother dearest to get me out of my mess because he is wise in the ways of computers, getting bad advice from tech support when they finally do get back to me, all of the above, or, on rare occasion, them getting back to me after a bit and actually resolving my problem.
It reminds me of dealing with mechanics. I feel like they're just trying to freak me out about things I don't understand, make me feel bad for mistakes I may have unknowingly made in the past that have lead me to this awful state, and praise the Lord I found them to spend LOADS of money to fix my problem. Since I despise emotional manipulation regarding things I have no emotional attachment to (like, say, cars and computers), this does not go over well with me and just makes me hate dealing with them. Leave the emotionally charged, dire straits, finger pointing nonsense at the door please. Tell me what needs to be done, present and future, and lets move on.
Here is my epiphany. In this particular situation, we've been over the causes. I've been working with these people for the past year. Fortunately, in this case, these problems aren't even my fault, as they came to be aeons before I started working at this organization. On the plus side, I am (unlike some people) very responsive and easy to work with. If you want to do something, fix something or have a question, I am reachable and happy to help. So, note to tech support: If you want to fix all this stuff, CALL ME AND FIX IT ALREADY. I don't want to hear all the reasons we have a problem. I don't want to talk about how bad it is that we're still with this service provider. I want to look to solutions, I want to move on. I do not want to dwell in whatever chaotic techy past that they so love to peruse with me.
On the broader spectrum, I think people, including myself, may do this in our own lives. We dwell on the problems and the causes . We meditate on how they may have affected us and how that may influence how we go about fixing our problems. Meanwhile, the fixing always remains a future tense kind of activity.
I see this sometimes in my logic when dealing with Male. I get upset because he did something that I consider to be a problem. Then all the emotions come back from when this has previously been a problem, why I hate it, how awful it is, etc, etc etc... It takes me a while to comeback down from this whirlwinded emotional frenzy. I think, in previous relationships, I used to stay there, immoveable, hurt that I was in this situation and sometimes even baffled. But I have learned over time. Now, I can take the situation from where it is, figure out what to do about it, and move on accordingly. I don't continue to bring it up, rehash it over and over again, punish the wrongdoer, teach somebody "a lesson", or dwell on how to fix the problem in the future.
We can be taught. Thank heavens. Now to only deduce all the other areas where I need to apply this invaluable lesson. I say to myself and all of you who may do this, MOVE ON AND GET TO THE FIXING ALREADY. In the end, the cause is really a minute part of the whole fixing process, and life would be so much better and more functional if we would stop rehashing, going over what we already know, and start moving forward. It's a very "Meet The Robinson's" kind of message. But if your experiences in dealing with this are any bit as frustrating as dealing with my tech support ( I suspect it could be even more so. what a scary thought), believe you me, it's SOOOOOO HOOO HOOO HOOO worth it.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
I Live At Home
These days, if you're single and on the dating market, the words "I live at home with my parents" will stop many motivated potential mates dead in their tracks. Especially if you're a man. The idea of most men living at home with their parents says to prospective female companions, " I never grew up, mom still does my laundry and pays my phone bill, and I will probably pick her dinner over yours." These messages, among others that come to mind, are a big DO NOT BOTHER sign for many women. This is especially true when it's an older male who is of an age when he should have been able to graduate from college, and/or start a career and most definitely find life outside of video games. There is a certain point in men's lives when they should want to acquire their own space. Then they would subsequently have the independence and privacy which comes along with it. Even more so, you'd think they would like to be able to make out on the couch without worrying about getting caught. Am I right?
Such a double standard. Since I started graduate school, I moved back in with my parents. Going back to school is a fair reason to move back in, right? I thought it sounded pretty good. But here I am a year after graduation and I still "live at home with my parents." I'm 27 years old. And it's not because I can't afford to move out. I got my golden job opportunity after graduation. I make enough to live on my own. But then, are all ALWP's (Adults Living With Parents) equal offenders?
I often think my situation is very different from the middle-aged males still living with their folks. First of all, living with my parents still affords me an entire floor of the house and, therefore, much privacy. I take that back. First of all, I'm not a man. I'm a woman. There's a difference there. Secondly, what I said before. Also, I pay my own bills and do my own laundry and have a career. I am anything but a homebody. I've already lived away from home for over 5 years. And the folks are very unimposing and easy-going.
Really, it seems like an optimal situation for saving money on rent. Any of these living situation factors being less desirable would likely change my opinion and I would probably move out. I may not have even moved in in the first place. Were any of my personal attributes different, I would think I should be circumspect for being overly dependent and lacking the mojo and backbone to grow up. But I seem pretty healthy (not that I'm biased or anything.).
Speaking with a coworker from Latin America gave me even more fervor in my smart choice to live at home. The idea of having her children find their own place were they in my situation, coming from her Latin American background, isn't a symbol of independence. It's nonsense. Why would you live away from your family if you weren't married? It's a waste. And so far away.
Ahh! How liberating. Not only will I save on rent. But I shall cast off silly American consumer-minded, overly entitled, ideals that make no sense. How cool. It's clearly the best thing to do until I have reason to leave. I am nothing like those slackers who haven't grown up yet and can't take on the responsibility of providing for themselves. I'm independent. Yo.
Or am I? Truth be told, I don't know if I see myself as much different from "them" (I find it fascinating that it is so fun and easy to condemn a group, simply by labeling them as "them"). Even with my excellent situation, I still see negatives to living at home:
Negative #1: My parents are not incredibly overbearing, but they do have their opinions. And every now and again, when I finally get home, my mother will find her way up the stairs and give me the two cents she's been holding onto all week about whatever she thinks about the current status of myself and my beau, or her concern for how I work too much or don't get to church often enough or.... hmmm... so maybe her two cents' are actually the equivalent of a few dollars.
Negative #2: There is a joy in having your own space to decorate, to move into all the way, to roam and make noise as you see fit, which is less doable when you live in someone else's house. I do not decorate. It's not my house to decorate (though I'm not sure I'm much of a decorator anyway. But maybe I am. Who knows.) I also do not expand into other rooms. Everything that is mine is crammed into my bedroom. If I lived in my own place, many things would move to a living room area or an office or something like that. And I would be less cramped and perhaps more organized. And I would not have piano lessons going on in the living room when I would like to read in peaceful quiet, or to cause a raucous with workout music in that very room.
Negative #3: I do like to respect my parents and their wishes. Really, I do. I'm a sucker for being obedient AND a peacemaker -- doublewhammy.It is likely, however, if they were less privy to the details of my life, they would less frequently voice their wishes. And I would be unable to go against wishes I did not know about. And without all their wishes and advice floating around in my head, I imagine my decisions and persuasions would be slightly different and I would be....... more independent. Oh my. Hmm. Wait a minute? I'm not totally independent?
Even if I am mostly independent, I am still dependent. And I don't think it's that healthy interdependent stuff that therapists talk about as a good thing. I may have a healthy amount of social circles to run around in. I may rarely be home because I'm busy living my life. I may pay for all of my own expenses and never borrow from my parents. I may be, by nature, very mentally independent and capable of making my own choices. I may be responsible and able to manage my life. But there is an element of dependence that is virtually unavoidable if a child, now a grown adult, still lives at home. You can't get around it. At least I haven't figured out how.
And then, of course, there are the obvious dependencies. Benefits of the food they feed me (I've never cooked for myself, even when I lived away from home. I was very good at 5 minute meals, microwaving, and eating meals of questionable contents and portion sizes. This does not bode well with parents.). And they bought me a microwave and a blender because they noticed I didn't have one (which they probably wouldn't have noticed if they did not see my kitchen.) Mmmhmm. You see as well as I do, I'm quickly starting to rack up quite a bill. Taking into account all the in-kind donations, suddenly somebody is not looking very independent. That somebody would be me.
Yes, I can move out. Moving out only comes with a more expensive price tag. But, as a self-sufficient adult who can manage a budget just fine and has provided for herself for years, it's clearly not just the money that keeps me at home. Not to say money isn't a factor. Admittedly, I do value money and don't like to waste it. If living in my own place were a free thing, there is no question I would do that. In fact, saving money is, in whole, why I live at home. But, while it is the great advantage, it is not the only consideration. Perhaps the reasons for moving out and being independent should way heavier than I have accounted for thus far in my lists of pros and cons. The question is: how detrimental is it for ALWP's to live at home? Even in a best case scenario? Whenever possible, should ALWP's just suck it up and move out?
Such a double standard. Since I started graduate school, I moved back in with my parents. Going back to school is a fair reason to move back in, right? I thought it sounded pretty good. But here I am a year after graduation and I still "live at home with my parents." I'm 27 years old. And it's not because I can't afford to move out. I got my golden job opportunity after graduation. I make enough to live on my own. But then, are all ALWP's (Adults Living With Parents) equal offenders?
I often think my situation is very different from the middle-aged males still living with their folks. First of all, living with my parents still affords me an entire floor of the house and, therefore, much privacy. I take that back. First of all, I'm not a man. I'm a woman. There's a difference there. Secondly, what I said before. Also, I pay my own bills and do my own laundry and have a career. I am anything but a homebody. I've already lived away from home for over 5 years. And the folks are very unimposing and easy-going.
Really, it seems like an optimal situation for saving money on rent. Any of these living situation factors being less desirable would likely change my opinion and I would probably move out. I may not have even moved in in the first place. Were any of my personal attributes different, I would think I should be circumspect for being overly dependent and lacking the mojo and backbone to grow up. But I seem pretty healthy (not that I'm biased or anything.).
Speaking with a coworker from Latin America gave me even more fervor in my smart choice to live at home. The idea of having her children find their own place were they in my situation, coming from her Latin American background, isn't a symbol of independence. It's nonsense. Why would you live away from your family if you weren't married? It's a waste. And so far away.
Ahh! How liberating. Not only will I save on rent. But I shall cast off silly American consumer-minded, overly entitled, ideals that make no sense. How cool. It's clearly the best thing to do until I have reason to leave. I am nothing like those slackers who haven't grown up yet and can't take on the responsibility of providing for themselves. I'm independent. Yo.
Or am I? Truth be told, I don't know if I see myself as much different from "them" (I find it fascinating that it is so fun and easy to condemn a group, simply by labeling them as "them"). Even with my excellent situation, I still see negatives to living at home:
Negative #1: My parents are not incredibly overbearing, but they do have their opinions. And every now and again, when I finally get home, my mother will find her way up the stairs and give me the two cents she's been holding onto all week about whatever she thinks about the current status of myself and my beau, or her concern for how I work too much or don't get to church often enough or.... hmmm... so maybe her two cents' are actually the equivalent of a few dollars.
Negative #2: There is a joy in having your own space to decorate, to move into all the way, to roam and make noise as you see fit, which is less doable when you live in someone else's house. I do not decorate. It's not my house to decorate (though I'm not sure I'm much of a decorator anyway. But maybe I am. Who knows.) I also do not expand into other rooms. Everything that is mine is crammed into my bedroom. If I lived in my own place, many things would move to a living room area or an office or something like that. And I would be less cramped and perhaps more organized. And I would not have piano lessons going on in the living room when I would like to read in peaceful quiet, or to cause a raucous with workout music in that very room.
Negative #3: I do like to respect my parents and their wishes. Really, I do. I'm a sucker for being obedient AND a peacemaker -- doublewhammy.It is likely, however, if they were less privy to the details of my life, they would less frequently voice their wishes. And I would be unable to go against wishes I did not know about. And without all their wishes and advice floating around in my head, I imagine my decisions and persuasions would be slightly different and I would be....... more independent. Oh my. Hmm. Wait a minute? I'm not totally independent?
Even if I am mostly independent, I am still dependent. And I don't think it's that healthy interdependent stuff that therapists talk about as a good thing. I may have a healthy amount of social circles to run around in. I may rarely be home because I'm busy living my life. I may pay for all of my own expenses and never borrow from my parents. I may be, by nature, very mentally independent and capable of making my own choices. I may be responsible and able to manage my life. But there is an element of dependence that is virtually unavoidable if a child, now a grown adult, still lives at home. You can't get around it. At least I haven't figured out how.
And then, of course, there are the obvious dependencies. Benefits of the food they feed me (I've never cooked for myself, even when I lived away from home. I was very good at 5 minute meals, microwaving, and eating meals of questionable contents and portion sizes. This does not bode well with parents.). And they bought me a microwave and a blender because they noticed I didn't have one (which they probably wouldn't have noticed if they did not see my kitchen.) Mmmhmm. You see as well as I do, I'm quickly starting to rack up quite a bill. Taking into account all the in-kind donations, suddenly somebody is not looking very independent. That somebody would be me.
Yes, I can move out. Moving out only comes with a more expensive price tag. But, as a self-sufficient adult who can manage a budget just fine and has provided for herself for years, it's clearly not just the money that keeps me at home. Not to say money isn't a factor. Admittedly, I do value money and don't like to waste it. If living in my own place were a free thing, there is no question I would do that. In fact, saving money is, in whole, why I live at home. But, while it is the great advantage, it is not the only consideration. Perhaps the reasons for moving out and being independent should way heavier than I have accounted for thus far in my lists of pros and cons. The question is: how detrimental is it for ALWP's to live at home? Even in a best case scenario? Whenever possible, should ALWP's just suck it up and move out?
Monday, June 11, 2007
The Weekly Word: "Slacker"
So, as my dear sweet co-blogger will tell you, I slacked a bit last week...I didn't post the weekly word, and it was my turn. And then I think, what is a slacker?
So, alas, I googled slacker, and first up....wikipedia.
According to Wikipedia, the term "slacker" was most commonly used during the WWI and WWII era to explain men who were avoiding the draft, but that isn't me....hmmm. Next, they give a short concise evolutionary definition, applicable to modern times "A typical slacker is characterized by a static, unenthusiastic air manifesting in an apparent lack of effort."
OUCH!!! I sure hope that isn't me.
Alas, I turn to the urban dictionary for respite. With their new voting system, urban dictionary puts a whole new meaning to community dictionary. The most popular definition presented is
So, alas, I googled slacker, and first up....wikipedia.
According to Wikipedia, the term "slacker" was most commonly used during the WWI and WWII era to explain men who were avoiding the draft, but that isn't me....hmmm. Next, they give a short concise evolutionary definition, applicable to modern times "A typical slacker is characterized by a static, unenthusiastic air manifesting in an apparent lack of effort."
OUCH!!! I sure hope that isn't me.
Alas, I turn to the urban dictionary for respite. With their new voting system, urban dictionary puts a whole new meaning to community dictionary. The most popular definition presented is
| "Someone who puts off doing things to the last minute, and when the last minutes comes, decides it wasn't all that important anyways and forgets about it" I don't know how I feel about that definition, but it is better than the other one. Still a bit assumptive in characteristic, yet pessimistic in outcome. Oftentimes I think a slacker does it in the end, just a bit late. Lastly, I come to the Freedictionary.com. "One who shirks work or responsibility." I like it, short, sweet, not overlybroad, yet vague enough to be applicable to the majority of commonly associated occurences. In my terms, what is a slacker? Someone that says they will do something and then doesn't. Perhaps it is just someone that works on a different time frame from the rest of us. Or maybe it is a genius so engrossed in other thought, that it appears as if they are doing nothing, but in reality, are one more "slacking" moment from uncovering the mysteries of the universe........ok, ok, yes, that is a far stretch. And if I wasn't a slacker, I would probably type okay, instead of ok. Regardless, slackers are our best friends, our worst enemas, and our enviable compatriots. We love hanging out with them, because they are the only ones that have the time to hang out, while the rest of us A-type personalities are off being anti-social and trying to conquer the world. Everything is the worst enema...can you have a good enema?....wait, don't answer that. And lastly, we envy their ability to shirk responsibility, make time for the more enjoyable things in life, and somehow have a far more relaxed, yet wholistic approach to daily life. True they may be goalless, needy, and empty wastes of space, but we still want to be like them. So, touche, I wish I was a slacker, but until then, I'll just have to blog about it. | ||
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Positives and Negatives
Yesterday was a very mixed day. Clothes, relationships, and the adventures inside my head.
I start off my day by waking up reasonably on time and trying to dress myself in something smart, flattering, comfortable and quick. I fall back on a thoughtless but well-put-together outfit I have worn several times before. No art, creativity or trying on required. It's like a microwave meal, only involving clothes.
With all the money I've spent on clothes and the good fashion sense I've been cursed with that encourages me to spend money on clothes, I have come to believe there is no reason or excuse on any given day for being schlumpy, half-put-together, dowdy, marmish or anything of the like. Not to say that it never happens. But I try to be cognizant and avoid it. It just doesn't feel good to be schlumpy. And when you have clothes that aren't, why would you wear the ones that are? It makes no sense.
My fashion sense has become much improved over the years. Even recently. I had a ghastly habit in my early, early 20's to dress more like I was in my 30's and 40's. This is because anything else cute and flattering was an article of clothing that either made me look like I should be working the corner near a nightclub or like I was 14 yrs old. I have since looked harder and found things more age appropriate and fashionable. I have also watched several episodes of What Not To Wear. Great tips there! But it's been a difficult quest. They don't make a lot of clothes for 20-something professionals. Add in the quest for modest clothes and..., well...., I imagine YOU shop too. If you're female or have shopped with a female, you know what I'm talking about and can sympathize.
Anyhow, I get ready quickly and go to work. During work, I off-handedly decide I need to take a lunch break (I don't usually take a lunch break). I leave and go to the clothing store where I work part-time, as they are having an employee sale that day. Clothes shopping -- one of my favorite past-times.
Except it hasn't been as of late. I still haven't lost the 5 extra pounds I gained from my marathon training. Body image has suffered, admittedly( but my bank account balance has benefited immensely.). I realize, logically, I'm still not overweight. So, it's not that bad and the pounds should not upset me as much as they do. I think to myself, "If I go try on clothes today, I might be more pleased with how they look than I think." I try on jeans, jeans, and more jeans ( I do believe our clothing store has the largest selection of jeans in the country.) I settle on a pair of very dark wash Genetic Denim, straight leg. They look cute, sophisticated, and almost formal. They fit surprisingly well, even around my middle where clothes tend to pinch me and give me a muffin top. And at seventy-five percent off, I am completely satisfied with the bargain. But I still don't feel cute.
Hmmm... oh well. Back to work. Work passes, blah, blah. Nothing very eventful. Ok, not true. A car DID crash into the window of one of the apartment buildings we own. That made things interesting. But that's neither here nor there. Back to my day.
At the end of my workday, I decide to go to the gym. It'll make me feel better for sure. Right? Maybe not. It's been my increase in exercise and training that's made me add the extra pounds. In that respect, the gym is like my nemesis. What to do? Alas, I love running too much. Off I go. At the end of my workout I'm gladder for it. Just as I suspected.
I go home and shower and think what to do next. I should eat. But at the moment I've decided food is my nemesis. It's the last thing I want to think about. Clean the house? Maybe. Do the dishes? I could.... Ooh, but wait! Even Better! I remember I still have my gift card for Nordtrom's I got off Ebay. Off to The Rack I go, for more clothes shopping. I can clean house after the stores close. That's much better time management. I'm so smart.
I start to think and realize my artless effort this morning has been a theme lately. I don't put any imagination into my wardrobe. I hate that. So maybe I need some new clothes....hmmm.... Yes, that's it. Of course, "need" is relative. My closet is absolutely not lacking in fullness. I could clothe an entire village in Ethiopia. But it's a new season and my closet is full of winter. It's SUMMER, for heaven sakes! I've already missed an entire season!
I am so good at justifying shopping. Too good. I go to The Rack and I try on a bunch of stuff. Ah! Detriment of all detriments -- I find several cute tops. Tops are exactly what I need. I don't seem to be at all in the mood for shoes, thankfully, so I don't bother perusing the shoe section. I grab a white handbag. That's light and springy. Check out. Done. The handbag's too expensive. I'd rather put the money towards a digital camera. I'll return it later. Maybe.
What next? I think I'll call Male. I have been seeing Male almost every day lately. And I have been liking seeing Male that often. And I'm kinda worried because I am happier and happier about he and I. Do I want to be happy about he and I? What if we never break up?!?! We might get married..... AH! And to add to my distress, I'm starting to see all the reasons we fit together well rather than all the reasons we might not. I knew I should have broken up with him months ago. I can't very well do it now. I like him too much. Crap. Talk about problems.
I wonder if I shouldn't call Male. Maybe he'd like a night off from me. But I've noticed he typically is the one to call me when we get together. I'll call him just to mix it up a bit. If he doesn't want to do something that's ok. I call, but he's not there. I call again and leave a message. As I start to drive out of the parking lot, I am about to pass the dollar theaters in the strip mall. Hmm... that could be fun. Watch a movie or do dishes? Hmmm...
Hello movie! I was on a flight recently where they were showing Bridge to Terabithia. I had really wanted to see it. But the flight was only an hour long. They were just showing previews. Cruel of them, I think. But wadda ya know!?!? It's playing at the theater tonight, and the next showing starts in 20 minutes. Off to the movies I go. Yes, I realize it's uncool to go to movies by myself. And I hadn't bothered to put make-up on after I showered from the gym. I shouldn't be galavanting about in public. But, honestly, I don't really care.
I sit in the theater and wait for the show to start. The theater is relatively empty. No surprise there. I'm watching a PG movie at 9:30 on a Tuesday night. Who does that? Apparently I do. I keep my silenced phone around in case Male calls.
In my little chair, in the row I have all to myself, I think back to previous relationships. Things were so frustrating. Neither of us seemed to be in sync. I didn't feel at home in those relationships. I was out. He was in. Then I was in. Then he was out. I felt nervous, tense, guarded... even needy. I hated that. Feeling all that. Glad not to feel that right now.
I check my phone and to my delight, Male just called. I leave the theater quickly and call him back to invite him to the movie. The movie will be starting in a few minutes, it's very last minute and I know the chances of Male coming are very small, but it would be fun to have him there, so I ask anyway.
Male shows up just about 10 minutes after the movie starts. He sits down and I quickly (and quietly) recap what he's missed. I put my head on his shoulder, which makes me a million times more happy and comfortable, and revel in the fact he came so quickly to spend time with me and watch a movie he knew nothing about. I didn't think he'd come, so it makes it an added treat. That worked out so well. Amazing!
After the movie, I think about what to tell Male about my day. I think about telling him my trauma in dealing with my 5 residual pounds. Scratch that. Bad idea. He'll think I'm silly. And I know he doesn't care about the 5 pounds. Why do I care about them? I just need to think more positively and not beat myself up. But if I do that, then I won't get rid of the 5 pounds because I'll start to really think I don't need to lose them, when I'd really look better if I did. Wait a minute? Rewind. Am I actually afraid of too much positive thinking because then I might believe the positive thinking?
I am most definitely a warped individual. Yup. Very warped. In the future, I will contemplate the effects of potentially believing positive thinking that I currently think is hogwash (only most of the time. I have breaks of sanity on occasion) because of all my negative thinking. If contemplation leads me to believe I'd be better off believing positive rather than negative thinking, maybe, just maybe I'll endorse the positive thinking. But I'm not sure yet.... even though I think I'm a moron for believing my negative thoughts. Negative thoughts are like a parasite. They suck the sense out of you and you hate it, but you're still attached to them and the procedure of pulling them out could be quite painful. Surgery. Eugh. I'll brood over it. One can't be too cautious about endorsing positive thoughts. Kinda like being too hasty about a relationship that seems to be great. Instead, I prefer being very concerned and fearful said relationship might actually work out.
Man, I'm warped. It's really amusing. I'm totally entertained by it. But often quite puzzled. On a positive note, despite said warpedness of body image and my fear of commitment, overall, my relationship with Male seems to have avoided taking on this attribute. NOT warped. Life could be worse.
I start off my day by waking up reasonably on time and trying to dress myself in something smart, flattering, comfortable and quick. I fall back on a thoughtless but well-put-together outfit I have worn several times before. No art, creativity or trying on required. It's like a microwave meal, only involving clothes.
With all the money I've spent on clothes and the good fashion sense I've been cursed with that encourages me to spend money on clothes, I have come to believe there is no reason or excuse on any given day for being schlumpy, half-put-together, dowdy, marmish or anything of the like. Not to say that it never happens. But I try to be cognizant and avoid it. It just doesn't feel good to be schlumpy. And when you have clothes that aren't, why would you wear the ones that are? It makes no sense.
My fashion sense has become much improved over the years. Even recently. I had a ghastly habit in my early, early 20's to dress more like I was in my 30's and 40's. This is because anything else cute and flattering was an article of clothing that either made me look like I should be working the corner near a nightclub or like I was 14 yrs old. I have since looked harder and found things more age appropriate and fashionable. I have also watched several episodes of What Not To Wear. Great tips there! But it's been a difficult quest. They don't make a lot of clothes for 20-something professionals. Add in the quest for modest clothes and..., well...., I imagine YOU shop too. If you're female or have shopped with a female, you know what I'm talking about and can sympathize.
Anyhow, I get ready quickly and go to work. During work, I off-handedly decide I need to take a lunch break (I don't usually take a lunch break). I leave and go to the clothing store where I work part-time, as they are having an employee sale that day. Clothes shopping -- one of my favorite past-times.
Except it hasn't been as of late. I still haven't lost the 5 extra pounds I gained from my marathon training. Body image has suffered, admittedly( but my bank account balance has benefited immensely.). I realize, logically, I'm still not overweight. So, it's not that bad and the pounds should not upset me as much as they do. I think to myself, "If I go try on clothes today, I might be more pleased with how they look than I think." I try on jeans, jeans, and more jeans ( I do believe our clothing store has the largest selection of jeans in the country.) I settle on a pair of very dark wash Genetic Denim, straight leg. They look cute, sophisticated, and almost formal. They fit surprisingly well, even around my middle where clothes tend to pinch me and give me a muffin top. And at seventy-five percent off, I am completely satisfied with the bargain. But I still don't feel cute.
Hmmm... oh well. Back to work. Work passes, blah, blah. Nothing very eventful. Ok, not true. A car DID crash into the window of one of the apartment buildings we own. That made things interesting. But that's neither here nor there. Back to my day.
At the end of my workday, I decide to go to the gym. It'll make me feel better for sure. Right? Maybe not. It's been my increase in exercise and training that's made me add the extra pounds. In that respect, the gym is like my nemesis. What to do? Alas, I love running too much. Off I go. At the end of my workout I'm gladder for it. Just as I suspected.
I go home and shower and think what to do next. I should eat. But at the moment I've decided food is my nemesis. It's the last thing I want to think about. Clean the house? Maybe. Do the dishes? I could.... Ooh, but wait! Even Better! I remember I still have my gift card for Nordtrom's I got off Ebay. Off to The Rack I go, for more clothes shopping. I can clean house after the stores close. That's much better time management. I'm so smart.
I start to think and realize my artless effort this morning has been a theme lately. I don't put any imagination into my wardrobe. I hate that. So maybe I need some new clothes....hmmm.... Yes, that's it. Of course, "need" is relative. My closet is absolutely not lacking in fullness. I could clothe an entire village in Ethiopia. But it's a new season and my closet is full of winter. It's SUMMER, for heaven sakes! I've already missed an entire season!
I am so good at justifying shopping. Too good. I go to The Rack and I try on a bunch of stuff. Ah! Detriment of all detriments -- I find several cute tops. Tops are exactly what I need. I don't seem to be at all in the mood for shoes, thankfully, so I don't bother perusing the shoe section. I grab a white handbag. That's light and springy. Check out. Done. The handbag's too expensive. I'd rather put the money towards a digital camera. I'll return it later. Maybe.
What next? I think I'll call Male. I have been seeing Male almost every day lately. And I have been liking seeing Male that often. And I'm kinda worried because I am happier and happier about he and I. Do I want to be happy about he and I? What if we never break up?!?! We might get married..... AH! And to add to my distress, I'm starting to see all the reasons we fit together well rather than all the reasons we might not. I knew I should have broken up with him months ago. I can't very well do it now. I like him too much. Crap. Talk about problems.
I wonder if I shouldn't call Male. Maybe he'd like a night off from me. But I've noticed he typically is the one to call me when we get together. I'll call him just to mix it up a bit. If he doesn't want to do something that's ok. I call, but he's not there. I call again and leave a message. As I start to drive out of the parking lot, I am about to pass the dollar theaters in the strip mall. Hmm... that could be fun. Watch a movie or do dishes? Hmmm...
Hello movie! I was on a flight recently where they were showing Bridge to Terabithia. I had really wanted to see it. But the flight was only an hour long. They were just showing previews. Cruel of them, I think. But wadda ya know!?!? It's playing at the theater tonight, and the next showing starts in 20 minutes. Off to the movies I go. Yes, I realize it's uncool to go to movies by myself. And I hadn't bothered to put make-up on after I showered from the gym. I shouldn't be galavanting about in public. But, honestly, I don't really care.
I sit in the theater and wait for the show to start. The theater is relatively empty. No surprise there. I'm watching a PG movie at 9:30 on a Tuesday night. Who does that? Apparently I do. I keep my silenced phone around in case Male calls.
In my little chair, in the row I have all to myself, I think back to previous relationships. Things were so frustrating. Neither of us seemed to be in sync. I didn't feel at home in those relationships. I was out. He was in. Then I was in. Then he was out. I felt nervous, tense, guarded... even needy. I hated that. Feeling all that. Glad not to feel that right now.
I check my phone and to my delight, Male just called. I leave the theater quickly and call him back to invite him to the movie. The movie will be starting in a few minutes, it's very last minute and I know the chances of Male coming are very small, but it would be fun to have him there, so I ask anyway.
Male shows up just about 10 minutes after the movie starts. He sits down and I quickly (and quietly) recap what he's missed. I put my head on his shoulder, which makes me a million times more happy and comfortable, and revel in the fact he came so quickly to spend time with me and watch a movie he knew nothing about. I didn't think he'd come, so it makes it an added treat. That worked out so well. Amazing!
After the movie, I think about what to tell Male about my day. I think about telling him my trauma in dealing with my 5 residual pounds. Scratch that. Bad idea. He'll think I'm silly. And I know he doesn't care about the 5 pounds. Why do I care about them? I just need to think more positively and not beat myself up. But if I do that, then I won't get rid of the 5 pounds because I'll start to really think I don't need to lose them, when I'd really look better if I did. Wait a minute? Rewind. Am I actually afraid of too much positive thinking because then I might believe the positive thinking?
I am most definitely a warped individual. Yup. Very warped. In the future, I will contemplate the effects of potentially believing positive thinking that I currently think is hogwash (only most of the time. I have breaks of sanity on occasion) because of all my negative thinking. If contemplation leads me to believe I'd be better off believing positive rather than negative thinking, maybe, just maybe I'll endorse the positive thinking. But I'm not sure yet.... even though I think I'm a moron for believing my negative thoughts. Negative thoughts are like a parasite. They suck the sense out of you and you hate it, but you're still attached to them and the procedure of pulling them out could be quite painful. Surgery. Eugh. I'll brood over it. One can't be too cautious about endorsing positive thoughts. Kinda like being too hasty about a relationship that seems to be great. Instead, I prefer being very concerned and fearful said relationship might actually work out.
Man, I'm warped. It's really amusing. I'm totally entertained by it. But often quite puzzled. On a positive note, despite said warpedness of body image and my fear of commitment, overall, my relationship with Male seems to have avoided taking on this attribute. NOT warped. Life could be worse.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Car Insurance
Well, I have been shopping car insurances lately, and let me tell you, it is ridiculous the differences I have found out here.
Let me take a breather, and say that first, I am in New Jersey, which traditionally and historically has some of the worst car insurance rates out there, but this is ridiculous.
I am a fairly decent driver. I have never gotten a DMV point or car accident on my New Jersey license, have been been driving since I was 17, and all that jazz.
So, I have been doing some car insurance quotes around the block.
GEICO came in at the best at a premium of $470/6 months. All you out in never never land probably pay that for a whole year, but eh, that is a great deal in New Jersey.
I am currently paying almost double that at $800 +/- $50 every 6 months, so you can see the deal. So, I go and call up AIG, and also do one with Progressive. Progressive comes in at a sterling $760 and AIG quotes me up a big fat $1200.
Now, come on here. This is just getting a bit ridiculous. How are you supposed to know the difference from one to the other? All the fine print is tucked away in some nerd with big glasses' desk. You only get to see it after you sign up with them. And there is no disclosure of the typical penalties or adjustments for normal stuff like tickets or fender benders or whatever. The algorithm for how they do the rate adjustments would be great for people that are trying to pick an insurance company.
All I can say is bleh!!! What a pain in the arse. I even tried googling some places for forums that talk about theyir best insurance companies, but found nothing. So goes it. Any tips for the insurance company shopper?
Let me take a breather, and say that first, I am in New Jersey, which traditionally and historically has some of the worst car insurance rates out there, but this is ridiculous.
I am a fairly decent driver. I have never gotten a DMV point or car accident on my New Jersey license, have been been driving since I was 17, and all that jazz.
So, I have been doing some car insurance quotes around the block.
GEICO came in at the best at a premium of $470/6 months. All you out in never never land probably pay that for a whole year, but eh, that is a great deal in New Jersey.
I am currently paying almost double that at $800 +/- $50 every 6 months, so you can see the deal. So, I go and call up AIG, and also do one with Progressive. Progressive comes in at a sterling $760 and AIG quotes me up a big fat $1200.
Now, come on here. This is just getting a bit ridiculous. How are you supposed to know the difference from one to the other? All the fine print is tucked away in some nerd with big glasses' desk. You only get to see it after you sign up with them. And there is no disclosure of the typical penalties or adjustments for normal stuff like tickets or fender benders or whatever. The algorithm for how they do the rate adjustments would be great for people that are trying to pick an insurance company.
All I can say is bleh!!! What a pain in the arse. I even tried googling some places for forums that talk about theyir best insurance companies, but found nothing. So goes it. Any tips for the insurance company shopper?
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