24 March 2013

Here I am, again, on my own...and now I'm past 35

So, it's been since June of 2012 since I wrote anything. Nifty. That means to me two things: one, I need to not get caught up in delusions of grandeur and think that I have the ability to chronicle life changing experiences in a series of blogs. Um, no. I did try though. Second, I need to blog as thoughts pop into my head, which happened today - and thusly caused me to remember that I even have a blog. Plus I realized I wasn't getting teeny amounts of Google AdSense $$ deposited in my paypal, which meant serious blog neglect.

So, some time ago, when I still lived in Florida, I wrote about all the wonderful things that existed about being single. I think I was probably 32 or 33 when I wrote that. This past December, I turned 35. For some reason, that changed everything. I think it was mostly because the day after my birthday (December 29th at 12:01 am, if we're being technical) it hit me that I was actually closer to 40 than 30, and I had a little bit of an internal crisis.

Luckily my bestie Natalie was here and we did a bunch of badass shit to just celebrate my dreaded birthday, New Years, San Francisco, and her just...being here with me, which was a huge deal that stopped me from sobbing alone in bed with my cat when I officially hopped over the hill, wondering where I went wrong and why no one but losers and psychos will ever really love me...

When you turn 35 single and childless, your doctor does start to talk to you about things like...fertility, for instance. Now, I know right now I would make a horrible mother and the only place for my baby to sleep would be in my bathtub - but it gets you started on this "what if" trajectory that starts to make you freak the fuck out. You wonder how much you will hate yourself if that time ever does come and you find you want kids but can't have them (I'm used to the inverse of that sitch). I also wonder who gets married at 40+...because at the rate I'm going, if it ever happens, that will be about when it happens. And who do they marry, when all the 40+ men are marrying the 20 something girls?

However, I am smart enough to know that I can't obsess over this. So, I decided to take some time and reflect, and spend an entire day alone (free day, of course - work days don't count here) and see how I felt about it. No phone calls, no internet (until now), and obvi no human company (full disclosure, I did answer like two text messages). This may seem ordinary to some people, but to me, it's not; I have too many acquaintances and am blessed with a few good friends, plus I live in a very active part of the county, so a lone day of actual activity is rare. Anyhow, this is how it went (with fun scale from 1-10 included):

11:00am: Breakfast at the Exchange Cafe in Oakland. Great place to ogle hot, poor hipster guys and/or make faces behind the backs of their equally adorable hipster girlfriends. They make a badass cappuccino, complete with foam hearts. I did allow myself a Kindle (also gifted to me by Natalie), so I spent a bunch of time sipping on speed coffee, eating egg white hippy power food, and reading Dave Barry.
Fun Scale: Definite 9. I love reading, I love coffee, and it was nice not to have to talk to anyone. I stayed for almost 2 hours.

1:30pm: Target. I get that a lot of people do this alone, but I really don't like to. I get confused and distracted and buy things no one needs, especially not me. I usually drag one of about two or three slightly willing participants with me, usually by convincing them they need something there (you always need something at Target) or by promising to get them Starbucks. It was loud, crowded, and I ran into (physically) my share of snotty nosed, screaming children. But all in all, it was actually better alone. Lesson learned. I got my shit and got out.
Fun Scale: Meh, we'll say 6 due to my languid browsing men generally refuse to tolerate.

3:00pm: Arrive at the gym I just joined, because I'm sick and tired of paying for yoga at snobby studios in Berkeley and SF, and I found a cheap gym with a pool. A lot of people don't know this about me, but I love to swim. I just never get the chance to do it. So, I did. Seeing as how I just joined and all I own are string bikinis, I swam in a ballet leotard which certainly wasn't ideal, but it was invigorating nonetheless. In fact, if I hadn't been alone and someone tried to talk to me or break my stride, I would have smacked them upside the head.
Fun Scale: My only 10 - for several reasons. I have to drive to my gym, and its like 10 miles away from home (unless I'm in the city, then I have one walking distance from work), so I blasted Katy Perry the whole way. I've been banned from playing that CD by not one but two men now. And of course, I exercised, so that's a plus. But swimming is actually fun, and when I signed up the chick was pretty clear no one ever uses the pool, so I had it all to myself.

3:45pm: My first time ever sitting in a sauna (at the gym, natch). Again, I was alone, and it felt like heaven. I also felt like I sweated out 10 pounds and a crap ton of toxins, so yay.
Fun Scale: 8, but only due to the fact I was worried about germs. However, I took a very thorough shower afterwards, before hopping back in the car to blast more Katy Perry without hearing anyone bitch about it. Also, I'm downgrading a point for having to meet my personal trainer (trial, I'm no sack of money over here) and she was literally one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen, so I sort of wanted to punch her. More than that, I wanted to ask her why she was a personal trainer in San Leandro instead of walking a catwalk in Milan before doing blow out of a diamond encrusted vial in an outfit worth more than my car, because that is definitely where she belongs.

5:00pm to Current: Picked up an ice cold bottle of Pinot Grigio and a salad to reward me for my efforts. Got home and started blogging. Put on the Lumineers and listened to Hey-Ho like ten times in a row.
Fun Scale: 9 - but only because i'm tired and I know I've squeezed this day for all it's worth and it's back to the grind tomorrow. But for now, time to relax. Going to take the rest of my wine and go sit out on the back porch and enjoy this weather until the sun goes down - solo.

So, my intentional day alone was, overall, great. I didn't get lonely and I was the boss all day, no matter what. If this is what single life is like, so be it. I'm okay with it, at least for the time being...despite being old enough to actually need a fertility test.

If you love me, play the youtube video below and tell me it's not totes adorbs and I'm not crazy for listening to it 18 times and smiling like an idiot...every time. I think I might have almost cried once. Thanks (even if you are lying, it's fine).

*Namaste*
~Mia



14 June 2012

Save the TaTas (or insert your fave breast cancer slogan here)

Forewarning: Very. Long. Blog. Ahead.

So, since my blog has transitioned from my journey as an older ballet dancer (peppered with silly anecdotal stories and posts detailing cultural or social phenomena that interest me) into more of a personal account of life changing experiences, I think it is only appropriate to share my latest journey - my brush with the Big C. Let's just say, I am one of the lucky ones, but I had to go through quite a bit to get there. My final diagnosis is not important nor something I will share in a public blog, because that is not the point. Rather, I will share what this experience taught me, and of course in my typical blog style, take you through the journey of having major surgery...the good, bad, ugly...and of course, the funny, because funny follows me everywhere. No matter what.

Flashback to finding cysts and large amounts of axilla (look it up, I didn't know either) in a routine physical. Fast forward to intrusive and extremely uncomfortable mammograms, ultrasounds, aspirations and a litany of tests. Now fast forward to the surgery to remove the axillary breast tissue. The big deal. Keep in mind, the closest I've ever come to surgery was my Dad driving me to an oral surgeon extract my wisdom teeth like 15 years ago. I'm, quite understandably, scared shitless. Fear of the unknown is a powerful thing, and I had three weeks to mull it over. Quite a distraction in day to day life, especially knowing results won't be back until the excised tissue is sent to pathology, say a week or so AFTER surgery. Long story short, mind numbing fear.

Now...the day of surgery. It's a Wednesday so everyone I know, including my boyfriend, is working, so I take a cab to the hospital. Alone. My family is in Florida, so phone support was all I could ask from them. Luckily, I was having surgery at the hospital where I work, and my co-worker/guardian angel/semi-life-coach/totally awesome friend Clem meets me before I go in, gives me a big hug and a small card with a Catholic Saint to take into the OR with me. This was especially touching as she explained to me what miracles she believed had been brought about in her life by faith in the man represented on this tiny laminated  card (that I now keep magneted to my fridge and close to my heart).

I am escorted to the surgical wing, and massive anxiety sets in. I'm told my surgeon is running behind and I was also told to arrive an hour before the procedure, so after my awesome nurse Blossom settles me in a bed and does all the pre-op IVs, blood pressure and what not, I'm left there staring listlessly at the teeny TV (Everybody Loves Raymond, natch) wondering when someone will come take me and get this over with. Luckily, my surgeon caught up, and transport comes to wheel me in a gurney to the restricted OR area, where there is yet another waiting area. I can't even begin to explain how weird it feels to BE one of the patients you SEE every day at work. Total twilight zone.

My roommate here is another hospital employee and we lament together about the wait and joke about how we should be first in line since we work here, dammit! Felt good to know I wasn't the only nervous one about knowing my boobs were about to be sliced into. Logically the anxiety makes sense, but logic sort of disappears when you've been sedated and waiting for a couple hours for major surgery.

And then it happens. A quick consult with the anesthesiologist (who is also a totally cool chick), and then my surgeon (who happens to be a Doogie Howser age also totes awesome chick) comes in for a quick pep talk. I ask if I'm lucky enough to have an all-female surgical team. She laughs, only to tell me yes, unless I count the scrub tech who bats for his own team and could not care less about seeing female anatomy. I say no, I def don't count him.

My sedation is mild due to other normal scripts I take that may cause interactions, so I am pretty alert on my actual journey to the OR. In fact, I walked there. I notice I'm the only person naked aside from panties and a hospital gown actually walking to what I think is going to be my own personal hell, the OR. Turns out, this part is actually fun.

I walk into the OR and hop onto the operating table, making the mistake of looking directly into the gigantic surgical lighting above. While I'm trying to clear the oops-I-looked-into-an-eclipse spots from my eyes, the anesthesia starts flowing and I realize surgery IS just like Nip/Tuck (which, incidentally, I have seen every episode of). Depeche Mode is playing in the OR. Everyone is joking and laughing, including me, because I was getting high and everyone there was funny as hell. There was none of this counting backward  from ten business...someone asked me how I was feeling and then...I woke up back in my original hospital room with absolutely no idea how I got there, bandaged like I just got a boob job (sadly, not the case). Blossom my nurse magically appears, gives me ginger ale, saltines, percocet  and tells me my mom and dad both called and my boyfriend was parking. All in all, I felt great. Surgery is NOT difficult or anything to be afraid of. It's the aftermath that sucks.

I would even go so far to say...surgery was kind of fun. Everyone is SO freaking nice to you, you get to imbibe loads of mind-altering (very pleasant) substances for a completely legitimate reason, and you have someone dedicated to you with a simple press of a button whilst in recovery. I won't get into the complications and follow ups, because that's just boring, and they actually did suck (and are still going on).

My surgeon came to check on me, and I was still a bit loopy...but I had to ask..."how did I get from the OR back here, into this bed?" She just laughed her adorable laugh again and asked me if I remembered giving her all of my bank account information. I LOVE my surgeon. I will have serious separation anxiety from her once this is all said and done. I may even start stalking her after my last appointment, who knows. I'll at least cry! I see her more now than my own boyfriend. I feel like I should ask her out for a drink...

So, that's my surgery story, but I did learn something from this, which (as I promised a million paragraphs ago) I will share. Ladies, get checked. This whole not needing a mammogram until 40 or whatever is bullshit. My mom went through breast cancer at Stage 4 with a full bilateral mastectomy and a huge scare due to lack of early detection. Insist on getting checked. Cancer doesn't age discriminate -- as much as that may be the common perception. After watching my mother go through a heartbreaking hell (only to come out okay, thank God) and my much less serious experience, I will be watching my health, breasts and otherwise, like a hawk. I know too many people who "feel" healthy and thus assume they are healthy. Never assume. Always be proactive. As far as we know, this is it. This one life. Cherish it and be grateful for the awesome medical care and advances available to you...and take advantage of them. I'm definitely glad I did.


06 May 2012

Animal Rescue...why it matters, aka the Tale of Puppy Chuck

Well, no chitter chatter about sunny detox today seeing as how I've just adopted a cat, and while I sit here with her in silence as she acclimates to her new surroundings (at which she is doing amazing well) I've been doing a lot of thinking about pet rescue and why it's so important. By no means do I think my little blog post will make a difference in the problem at large, but if even one person that reads this thinks about adopting an animal then something in the universe happened that would not have if I had chosen not to pen my thoughts on the matter.

About my new companion...she's not your normal "new" pet. She's pushing eleven year old. She has twelve of her teeth removed due to severe neglect and not eating proper cat food -- but rather eating whatever would keep her alive. To my knowledge, she has lived in three shelters and before that, no one really knows. She has had two kitty pregnancy terminations. She cannot stand to be touched near her tail area, surely due to abuse from whatever asshats had her last. Her list of past maladies goes on and on, and I have 24 pages of medical records to take to her new vet. But I already love her.

The SF SPCA named her Puppy Chuck. That, of course, didn't stick. She is now my sweet "Sukie." And despite all of the above, she is the most darling, most loving, affectionate and adorable cat. Sure, I could have adopted a kitten or a young cat just as easily as I adopted Sukie. But my heart told me to give this rescue animal that would likely never be adopted a chance (she's been in the shelter for eons) and she's already paid me back tenfold, if only just by doing this:


I know people tend towards younger animals...puppies, kittens, etc...and I get it. I did the same with my first cat (who is living happily with my mom now at a spritely 15 years old). But after much thinking and an afternoon with Sukie, there are so many good reasons to adopt senior animals, even though they may need a bit more care. Someone is always going to adopt the little ones...why not be the one to truly rescue an animal?

The biggest reason I noted throughout the adoption process was the fact that Sukie's personality is set in stone. I played and visited with other cats, but I pretty much knew from the get go she was the one for me. You don't get that kind of assurance with a baby. They are definitely lower maintenance in the sense that she really just wants snuggles, food, warmth, love and shelter...and being a working professional, I can leave her home while I'm at work and she'll likely be sleeping in the same spot I left her when I get home (I learned this from my last geriatric cat!). Plus, animals, cats especially, live into their late teens (even early 20s) these days, so you still have plenty of years left with them.

So if you can, give an animal that's really in need a chance. I'm lucky in that I live the in liberal world of San Francisco and most shelters are no-kill, but most of the country isn't like that and Sukie would have been put down years ago, and that just makes me sad.

On that note, SPAY AND NEUTER YOUR ANIMALS!

Love,
Mia

29 March 2012

Departure and Arrival... (MTWAAW Part Duex)

A lot of people wonder what goes on behind the locked down (tight) doors of a detox or rehab facility. I did before I was in one. I figured if I am going to take you down this odd memory lane right now, I should do my best do my to explain exactly what happens behind the shroud of mystery for the uninitiated...protocols, rituals, rules, schedules...maybe a bit of slang for good measure, because being the word-nerd I am, I heard a few terms tossed around about which I had nary a clue...and even the arrival itself is an experience, so I'll take you through that real quick to get the good stuff (which is mainly the other patients. OMG. I've never been so normal or non-controversial in my life).

Arriving is weird. Having chosen to get my ass as (reasonably) far away from Orlando as possible for this venture and truly believing I had found the best place for my journey to life sans prescription bottles, I had to get myself to Miami, and I wasn't allowed to drive myself - the basic thought behind that rule is no one really knows what condition you'll be in upon your purported departure. It certainly may not be one where you can safely operate a motor vehicle, especially not five hard highway hours. So of course one of my besties stepped in, bless her heart, because I sure as hell wasn't going with any member of my family. I was going to rehab, goddammit, so I was going to get fucked up on the way there. Like, duh. I didn't care if it was 8 o' clock in the morning. Classic cliches fascinate me, and here was my chance to actually live one. Like in a movie, or Lindsay Lohan in real life. I took as many xanax as I knew I could and still make it to detox (not the ER), and I'm pretty sure I took a bottle of wine in the car with me, much to the chagrin of my lovely driver (who, by the by, happens to be narcoleptic and basically blind as a bat with a prescription pill habit of  her own). I gave her all of my "leftover" xanax to say thanks, because that was all I had, despite the fact we probably weren't the best driving duo. So, truth be told, I don't remember much of the trip except being no help at all once we got to Miami and tried to find the place. How we did eventually find it, couldn't tell you that either, but whatevs. We did. Or more than likely, she did.

As an extension of that, I only vaguely remember "check-in." Drug tested, natch...and I wrote a check for my whole stay up front, which even in my current state I deemed dumb of both them and me, but more so them since a) I was paying them for a very expensive service and b) I was drunk. I could have written a check for a billion rupees payable to my herd of pet unicorns.

I hand over the check written to someone for something and I go sit in a room with a man (yep, only description I can give you there...sorry). This faceless man has my drug test results, and at this point I had a moment of lucidity because what he said was so, so stupid I couldn't even respond..

"You tested positive for alcohol and xanax."

Well. Now that we have that out of the way, let's move on, by all means. I can't even begin to list the snarky comments racing through my head, my drunk was turning to buzz, I had a headache, and I wanted out of that room, like, stat. I just silently stared at him with my dumb face and waited (which never fails to end an encounter if you truly commit). I wasn't saying shit; I'd already been through eighteen million phone consults with these people, and I was quite sure he'd seen a lot worse than the likes of me.

It worked, and he muttered something about "starting my detox protocol before withdrawals." Now, I knew I was nowhere near the neighborhood of having any kind of withdrawals -- but finally something interesting! A "detox protocol." Sounded very futuristic and fancy, and I had no idea what the hell that meant. I did notice on my way to the nurses' station my bags were gone, and just as I was about to ask where they were, I had yet another moment of lucidity like I did that time I got driven home in the back of a cop car and tried to open the door from the inside - they were being searched. Anyhoo, detox protocol was much less interesting than I hoped - a nurse sticks me with all these needles, takes all this blood, and hands me a plastic cup full of a greenish blue liquid. I asked what it was; they refused to tell me, so I drank it, of course. tasted like Kool Aid.

And...lights out. Buh-bye. Sayonara. Hasta la vista and all that...

More later,
Mia

28 March 2012

My Two Weeks as Amy Winehouse, Part One

Okay, perhaps that wasn't the classiest (or even most creative) title for this post, but I'm not really known for having a filter, and hey - at least it's not "too soon." I didn't call it "My Two Weeks as Whitney Houston...."

So, a few of you blog readers know about the time I spent in detox. NOT rehab, but detox. There's a big diff, and I'll get to that later. But almost a year after my time there, I finally feel like writing about it and sharing my experiences for others that may be inspired if you're struggling or know someone who is (or maybe you just want a really good laugh, 'cause I got those stories too).  When you are cramped in a home with a bunch of drug addicts who are going through acute withdrawals - you see a lot of crazy shit. It changes your mind about a lot of things. Thus, I've got a lot to write about, so this will likely be split up into several blogs...and trust me, it's the anecdotal funny ones that will be the most entertaining. But here and now, I'm keeping it real and about your author (aka - me).

Pretty much everyone in my family is an addict or ex-addict of some kind, whether they'll admit it or not. In fact, as I type, I cannot actually think of someone with whom I share a flow of blood that doesn't possess a destructive addiction. I really didn't stand a chance. My destruction came in the form of prescription pills, dating back to an irresponsible shrink during my college years...that yes, spiraled out of control. I remember the ominous statement she uttered that led me to unwittingly fall so madly in love with xanax that it actually controlled my life - "I don't see the harm in taking a little bit of medication if it helps you feel better." Well, neither did I. I was 18.

This aforementioned spiral landed me squarely in a luxurious twin bed of a swanky detox facility on South Beach, where a French chef named Frenchy prepared meals specifically to my liking and I had my own personal yoga AND tai chi instructors. We'd lay out by the pool, soaking up the Miami rays, pleasantly high on the detox cocktail, listlessly feeding the seagulls and doing the three things you do most in rehab:

1) Make stupid jewelry out of beads, usually with your name on it. Or your new drug buddy's name, as a gift.
2) Ask: "What time is it? Wait, no, what day is it?"
3) Smoke. I don't care if you've never picked up a cigarette in your life.

Trust me, I am making it sound much more pleasant than it was. It turned into a living hell about halfway through...a hell no amount of yoga or personal chefs could fix.

So, in conclusion (for now) I'll be taking you on what I no longer view as my private journey through detoxification, replete with stories, shockers, hilarity, sadness, and I would like to think - a little bit of wisdom I gleaned here and there. A year later, a year older, and a year full of change and reflection - it's definitely time.

xoxo,
Mia




18 October 2011

My new favorite website and the idiots over-analyzing it.

Okay, so after I got through the awesomeness that is "Stuff White People Like"
(check it if you haven't:  Stuff White People Like ), which is, of course, written by a dorky white guy.

Anyhoo, I was on the troll for some more witty time sucking stuff on the interwebz.

So, I found Jenna Marble's youtube channel. Some of these videos are so funny you want to marry this girl. Others, meh, too whiny, but damn if this girl isn't someone I'd want to hang out with. Like, all the fucking time.
Check it: Jenna Marbles
Then I got a lil' bored with her, which was inevitable, despite my burning desire to chill with her and listen to her prattle on and be a goofball.

So, then I found my as-yet favorite site, and people are actually taking it seriously. It's written by women, for whoever wants to read it.
Betches Love This
I personally can't stop reading it. Seriously. And I must be a "betch," because the stupid comments after the posts just sound like a bunch of wanna-be "betches" that I want to smack upside the head.

After about two minutes of reading, it becomes blatantly obvious this is satire. These girls aren't really promoting things like faking ADD to get adderall, watching Jersey Shore, dressing like a slut, and forcing yourself to be anorexic (just a few examples of posts). Really? People think that's serious? If you do, you're straight up stupid. If this offends you, you are too fucking uptight and I would gander to think you probably don't have shit else to do with your life than complain, and there is probably a lot more that you complain about aside from this site "representing women in the wrong light." If anything, this site can double as pro-feminism social commentary shrouded in hilarity.

So...

About a Betch

Betch: noun. \ˈbech\
Don't know what a betch is? Congratulations Sherlock, that's your first clue that you're not one of us! JK! But really... a real betch knows one when she sees one, and would think it a compliment to be called one.
A betch is a bitch but she's not just mean for no reason, she's edgy. She's quick and she owns whatever situation she's in. If a bro had a vagina he'd be a betch. So if you like all the shit on this site you're probably a betch, and if you don't we don't care because you're probably uncool or like, really sweet, either way we're not interested.

Clearly. A. Joke. And I'm all for feminism and all that crap.

Over analysis #1
Shut up already.

Over analysis #2
Quit yer bitchin'

There are plenty of anti-betch articles/blogs aside from these two, which simply means the "betches" writing this site are laughing all the way to the bank as their google adsense dollars rack up.

However, they do initially cop to the humour offered in the fast paced, witty posts only to wimp out in the end, whining about this site being anti-feminist propaganda doing exactly what its' authors are trying NOT trying to do.

Even I didn't really understand that last sentence, and I wrote it.

Lighten up, Francis. Does anyone even care that we voted in a president that hasn't done shit the past 3 years or there is a never ending "war" going on? Eh, you're right, I don't really care anymore either.

xoxo,
Whoever is reading this' favorite betch (me). Double-cheek air kiss and a swift stab in the back to you (before I go puke up my dinner, of course).

09 October 2011

A surprising post from...me, the shopoholic.

The past two years have been a harrowing experience of digging myself out of debt. I know I am clearly not the only person going through this in America - not even close. I realize now that I was trying to get out of debt AND maintain the "lifestyle" I enjoyed when I was tossing around credit cards like they meant free money and then scraping to pay off the minimum payment each month. Add that to my student loans and a couple personal loans in the thousands - and my debt had spiraled completely out of control. However, I just didn't get how it was affecting the quality of my life. Sure, money cannot buy happiness, but being severely in debt so much that it consumes you can bring absolute misery, anxiety...you name it and it's negative, I've probably felt it over money or debt. Or both.

So, I sat down and wondered why, after two years on a debt consolidation plan (these plans are not for everyone, nor am I suggesting them, but it worked for me as I am extremely scatterbrained and had 11 credit cards with all different balances and due dates). The debt consolidation plan coordinates all of that into a lump sum payment, closes the accounts, and negotiates on your behalf to rid you of all interest rates. The negative: your credit takes a BIG hit when you first enter a plan. It's like saying - "I give up, I can't handle my finances, so I need someone to do it for me." But after two years of paying on time every month, I've gained back the points I lost upon consolidation -- and I've gained a few as my debt to income ratio has significantly decreased.

Despite the above, I was still living paycheck to paycheck with absolutely no savings, and I just got sick of it. I had to change it, whatever it took. So I sat down and made a list of things that were directly affecting my monthly budget and found that I was making some grave mistakes or not doing something that would speed up the process and change my financial future, both long and short term.

So, hopefully these little tips will help someone; you may have heard some, or even all. Some I've gotten from friends and family, others have been lightbulb moments, and others have come from money saving tips websites, etc. But these slight changes have made me realize how much the little things count, because in just two months I am in a much, much better place.

1) Don't believe the hype. The mascara that will give you fake-looking eyelashes, the creams that will halt aging, the miracle lotion that will magically erase cellulite, the salon hair products; I could go on and on. I have saved a bundle the past few months buying cheap, drugstore lotions, makeup, shampoo, etc. My skin feels just as smooth, my hair is just as soft and healthy feeling. Marketing is America's most evil monster. It truly makes people believe they need things that they absolutely do not and never would need.

2) Big savings doesn't mean you buy it unless you need it (like bo-go groceries, those are great). This was a biggie for me, especially with clothes, shoes, and perfume - my three most powerful vices. I would see these things at 50% off, 75% off, etc and justification would set in, even though I had no particular need for any item like that at the time.  However, in my head it was stupid to pass up such a "great deal." Even discounted, these things should still be looked at with the age-old mantra - "if you can't afford it in cash right then and there, you can't afford it at all."

3) Stay away from temptation. Target was a BAD place for me to be, but it used to be where I got all of my prescriptions filled. I transferred them over to Walgreens and have a much easier time resisting the urge to buy toothpaste rather than the urge to resist clothes, shoes, accessories, house wares, whatever. Everyone has their "Target." Whatever your Target is, stay far, far away from it.

4) Don't use your debit card and carry $20 (or $50, or even $100) bills with you. This may seem odd but has proven to have several benefits for me. For one, I don't like to break large bills. It makes me think about what I'm buying a little more carefully. Two, I actually watch the money disappear as I spend it, whereas I barely think as you swipe a card. When I see I'm down to my last allotted 40 bucks or whatever, I really look at what I absolutely must have to survive - and definitely not what I want. This is kind of a version of the "envelope method" that's so popular (google it if you aren't familiar, it works very well for some - Financial Peace University), but that wasn't for me. Another bonus - it's completely impossible to overdraft your account if you do this. I now only leave enough money in my account to cover bills with a safety overage just in case.

5)The old "freeze your assets" thing really works. How could it not? When I finally paid off enough of one of my credits cards to have available funds for emergencies (albeit a low limit, but I need something as backup/emergencies, etc), it does indeed now live in a ziplock bag in my freezer. It would have to thaw out before I could actually use it. This gives me a lot of time to think about what I'm using it for. And while some may think this wouldn't work to ease temptation because of  the popularity of online shopping, if you put the card at the bottom of the icemaker and cover it with ice, the numbers become iced over and impossible to read. It takes a long time for a card to thaw. By then, you probably don't even want (or have forgotten about) whatever it was you'd have bought if the card been in your wallet.

6) Simple living. There are a lot of gorgeous communities and apartment complexes around where I live. I chose instead to live in a place that some (judgmental) people may deem undesirable, but I've made the inside of the place adorable and cozy for next to nothing thanks to hand me downs, garage sales, and thrift stores, and places like Big Lots. I have found my neighbors to be quite pleasant despite their socioeconomic class that is looked down upon by so many people I know. I had to change to the mindset of "who do I have to impress?" I'm single and I live alone with a cat. I love my place and I love coming home to it because I made it mine, not because I pay $1200 a month in rent for a fancy, cookie cutter apartment when I can pay half that for the same size place and add my own eccentric flair to it.

7) Splurging is necessary for saving. That may sound like an oxymoron, but there is a good way to splurge and a bad way to splurge. As human beings, we are social creatures. If I turned into a hermit during my entire three year get-out-of debt plan, I'd have gone mental. Actually, I did do that for a stretch, and I did indeed go a bit mental. You still need a social life, human interaction. I pay a lot of attention to Groupon and other like coupon services, however I only choose the food/drinks/entertainment/activities category so I'm not tempted to get a 50% off facial or some other such silliness. This is the one and only time when a "deal" is worth it. I only eat out with friends if I can do so at a discounted rate. I have also found that a night in with girlfriends is so much more enjoyable than going out (especially skipping the getting ready part, ugh); just the other evening I enjoyed a bottle of wine, a tofu stir-fry I made for about 5 bucks, and a Law and Order marathon with a girlfriend who is as big as L&O freak as me.

8) A continuation of the above. Find people who like to do the same things you like, or like to do, that are cheap or free. I've found that these people are usually in financial duress as well, or just don't have the need for all the flashiness & materialism. I have a friend who adores the Sunday Farmer's Market, totally free, and often you can get healthy NEEDS for a much lower price than you would think at an outdoor market. You can also politely haggle while staying respectful. These are families who support themselves by selling their wares, so you don't want to dismiss their hard work, but a simple "oh, I only have $4.00!" when looking at a $5.00 purchase has worked for me a few times. It adds up. At this point in my debt journey, I cannot keep up with people who are financially secure and able to afford shopping sprees and fancy dinners. Further, I am starting to see that as stupid and unnecessary -- where it used to be what I wanted - and also a big part of what got me into this  pickle to begin with.

9) Skip the movie theatres completely. I realize it is much better it is to watch something on such a big screen, and even I can justify why it's so important to watch a film like Inception in an Imax theatre. However, movies are stupid expensive and the time in which it takes them to get to PPV via your cable provider is so short now! My PPV even has movies still in the theatres for one dollar more than the regular ones. So, at most I pay $4.99 for a movie. They cost anywhere between $0.99 through $3.99 depending on how old/new/popular it is, etc. It's almost 2012; we all have large flat screen HD TV's now, no matter how poor you are. That's certainly good enough to watch a film. While PPV should be avoided in excess as it does add up, it sure beats a $15.00 movie with a $5.00 soda and God knows how much popcorn costs now...movie theatres treat everyone as though they are tourists at a theme park. Stay away.

10) Junk mail is not always junk. For me, it's been grocery store flyers I don't toss out in the gigantic trash can by the mailbox area anymore. In fact, I design my grocery list (also, stick to your grocery lists!) around whichever flyer has the best deals. I hate to say it, because I love Publix (who doesn't), but it's just way too expensive, even with their oft- bo-go's. I couldn't believe how much cheaper Albertson's was for the same stuff. At Publix, you really are paying for the "shopping to be a pleasure." It's the same concept as being a sucker for packaging; just a small example; Burt's Bees lip balm was a specific necessity. Mostly because I though the product had cute packaging. Now I just buy whatever is cheapest. No difference. Publix is the Burt's Bees' of grocery stores.

11) Read more. This may sound like it has nothing to do with saving money aside from just keeping you home, but if you're like me, you always have to be doing something. For me, idle hands simply means I am asleep - or watching TV. Reading cuts down a whole bunch on TV- watching, which is full of tempting ads, and ad agencies know exactly who to target for what during what show. Again, marketing firms have learned to read our minds and thus control them. That may sound a bit crazy and big brother, but I can't say I've never bolted to Macy's after seeing a commercial for one of their big sales. Plus, obviously reading is better for you anyway. However, books are expensive (for the most part). I'm lucky in that I have a best friend who is also an avid reader and the queen of hand-me-down books. So I always have a book of merit or two at my side. Borrowing books from friends and family is the best way to go, of course. I also often re-read books I purchased myself that I really liked the first go-around. Not only is it free, I feel like I'm getting more out of the money I spent on the book, no matter how long ago I purchased it.

12) Motivation is key to saving and/or getting out of debt. For me, this comes in a few forms. Due to my debt consolidation plan, I have a visual graph of how much debt I've paid down and how many more months until ALL of my credit card debt will be eradicated. I look at it every day. Not only is it kind of awe-inspiring to see it - because I never thought I'd get this far, of course it makes me not want to, as they say, take two steps forward only to take three steps back. Also, I look at what I will be able to do in a year when this debt monkey is finally off my back. I will never be incredibly wealthy or anything like that, but that's not what I want (anymore, anyway). I just want to be comfortable and live simply. But yet, I need to promise myself a reward once I reach a major milestone in the disposable income category; I need a tangible goal to work towards. Traveling to me is the ultimate reward. As soon as it is fiscally responsible on all counts, I plan to venture to places I've always wanted to go but have never been able due to lack of funds. The romance of the Greek Isles, the mystery of the dirty streets and beautiful beaches of Thailand, the rich history of India. These are all things I do not want to go to my grave without having experienced.

13) This is the last tip I've been using and probably the most important. I stopped beating myself up over my past mistakes and stopped regretting. It does no good. In fact, it does harm. I no longer listen to certain people in my life who still like to throw what they perceive to be my mistakes (mistakes made years ago) in my face. My life has been a little crazy in the long run, but at the end of the day, I'm a lucky girl who has experienced a lot of things many people will never be able to -- and who has a lot of people who love me. Once I get rid of this pesky debt, my life will be as close to perfect (no life is perfect) as a human life can be - for me. We all have different standards regarding quality of life, but every day I realize this debt has controlled me for too long; now that I am starting to control, it I already feel better. More powerful. And by no means am I out of the woods. More like right in the middle of the woods - but I used to be scared to even step one foot into those metaphorical woods. Once this debt is gone completely, I can truly enjoy life 100% and never abandon the principles I learned throughout this journey so I never make the same mistakes again.

Hope this helps someone; it helps me just to write it down. I don't want to live my life on lease or loan, nor do I want to spend money that isn't mine. I don't want a fancy car or a sky high mortgage. I don't care about appearances. I care about not wasting precious time I could be with friends and family, and how am I going to get to them without enough money to put gas in my car?

Living outside of your means is an addiction, a subject I am extremely well versed it. Thus, I know to approach this like any other addiction - a total shift in priorities,  a lot of hard work and  dedication, and always - one day at a time. Trust me, if I can do it, anyone can.

10 September 2011

a musical divergence surpassing my own freaky music knowledge....

Songs inspired by heroin. I've never said heroin, or any drug for that matter, is a good thing. But I do think, however, good music has been born from it. Yes, I said it. I do not think these legendary songs would have been born without smack. Deal with it.

***DISCLAIMER. DON'T DO HEROIN.***

Bob Dylan. Dead Flowers.


Does "dead flowers" refer to heroin, a relationship gone sour or both? Who knows? Does "little susie" = brown heroin? Very likely. "Dead Flowers" - as performed by the late, great Townes Van Zandt - appears on The Big Lebowski soundtrack. The song also has been recorded by Steve Earle and Poison, among others. "Well when you're sitting back in your rose pink Cadillac/Making bets on Kentucky Derby Day/Ah, I'll be in my basement room with a needle and a spoon/And another girl to take my pain away . . ."


James Taylor. Fire and Rain.


According to an urban legend, "Fire and Rain" deals with a girlfriend of Taylor's who died in a plane crash. In actuality, the "Suzanne" of the song was actually an acquaintance of Taylor's who committed suicide. The rest of "Fire and Rain" focuses on Taylor's efforts to kick his heroin addiction. "Won't you look down upon me, Jesus/You've got to help me make a stand/You've just got to see me through another day/My body's aching and my time is at hand/And I won't make it any other way . . ."


U2. Running To Stand Still.


A haunting ballad from The Joshua Tree, "Running to Stand Still" deals with a strung-out chick who lives in the notorious Ballymun Flats area of Dublin. "She runs through the streets/With her eyes painted red/Under black belly of cloud in the rain/In through a doorway she brings me/White gold and pearls stolen from the sea/She is raging/She is raging/And the storm blows up in her eyes/She will . . ./Suffer the needle chill/She's running to stand still . . ."


Guns N' Roses. Mr. Brownstone.


Most if not all of the members of Guns N' Roses were strung out at one time or another during the band's meteoric rise and fall. Izzy Stradlin, who wrote the lyrics for "Mr. Brownstone," later sobered up and quit the band during the middle of its infamous world tour in 1991. "Now I get up around whenever/I used ta get up on time/But that old man/He's a real muthafucker/Gonna kick him on down the line . . ."


 Red Hot Chili Peppers. Under the Bridge. (personal fave).


A personal poem by lead singer Anthony Kiedis detailing his battles with drug addiction, "Under the Bridge" evolved into the band's biggest hit - reaching No 2 on the Billboard Charts. The song also served as a lament for original RHCP guitarist, Hillel Slovak, who died of a heroin overdose in 1988. "Under the bridge downtown/Is where I drew some blood/Under the bridge downtown/I could not get enough/Under the bridge downtown/Forgot about my love/Under the bridge downtown/I gave my life away . . ."


Neil Young. The Needle and the Damage Done.


One of the most famous anti-heroin songs ever, "The Needle and the Damage Done" was directed at original Crazy Horse guitarist, Danny Whitten, who overdosed at the age of 29 several months after the song's release. Young later remarked about the song: "I am not a preacher, but drugs killed a lot of great men." The song appears on Harvest, which was the best-selling album of 1972. "I've seen the needle and the damage done/A little part of it in everyone/But every junkie's like a settin' sun . . ."


Nine Inch Nails. Hurt.


One of Trent Reznor's most personal songs of despair, self loathing and addiction, "Hurt" first appeared on The Downward Spiral, which was recorded at the Benedict Canyon home where actress Sharon Tate was murdered by the Manson family in 1969. Johnny Cash covered the song to critical acclaim on his 2002 album, American IV: The Man Comes Around. Not only did Cash personalize the song to such an extent (with help from an awesome video) that he turned it into a moving tribute to his entire life and career, but he also changed one of the lines from "I wear this crown of shit" to "I wear this crown of thorns." Bottom line: "Hurt" is one of the most depressing songs of all time. "I hurt myself today/To see if I still feel/I focus on the pain/The only thing that's real/The needle tears a hole/The old familiar sting/Try to kill it all away/But I remember everything . . ."


The Velvet Underground. HEROIN.


Many critics at the time "Heroin" was released asserted that the song advocated drug use. However, the lyrics clearly neither condemn nor endorse heroin. "I'm Waiting for the Man" is another classic Velvet Underground song dealing with heroin. Author Denis Johnson took the title of his acclaimed short story collection, Jesus' Son, from "Heroin" (the story itself was later made into a 1999 cult film starring Billy Crudup and Jack Black). "I don't know just where I'm going/But I'm gonna try for the kingdom, if I can/Cause it makes me feel like I'm a /When I put a spike into my vein/And I'll tell ya, things aren't quite the same/When I'm 
rushing on my run/And I feel just like Jesus' son . . ."


Ironic I've never touched heroin and these are some of my favorite songs...ever. But despite my lack of chasing the dragon, I get the messages. I really do. I hope you do too.

06 September 2011

This is what facebook will do to intelligent people.




    • Mia Bixby what are clithes? hehe. i do that all the time. just your body telling you you need rest, likely not a true blackout.
      2 hours ago · 

    • Michael E. Higgins Heh i typed that on my phone. I dont remember emptying my pockets or laying down...i over slept today too. Yea i know it wasn't a true black out, just weird.
      2 hours ago · 

    • Eric Giroux Dude you texted this to me, to use me as your twitter/facebook/google+ whore. DIE!
      51 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby bahahahaha! fuck technology and all these linked social networks!
      50 minutes ago · 

    • Michael E. Higgins yes, yes i did...because it makes me laugh
      50 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby made me laugh too. i actually just realised all my sites were intertwined, and i don't even know how they got that way. not only that, but it took me like 3 years to un-entwine them...
      49 minutes ago · 

    • Eric Giroux At least I didn't black out for three days.
      43 minutes ago ·  ·  2 people

    • Michael E. Higgins mia in order for eric to get my status updates i have to text him too, i chose to text him my updates because he hates it.
      41 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby that's what friends are for.
      40 minutes ago · 

    • Eric Giroux Next time you do it, bad things will happen. Like I'll switch your sierra mist natural for Sprite.
      39 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby what the hell is sierra mist natural? they make soda with no chemicals? no way!
      37 minutes ago · 

    • Eric Giroux I think that's what it's called. IF not, it is now. I changed the name.
      36 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby I'll stand by that. If it doesn't actually exist, I see a business venture unfolding, because pretty much everyone is stupid enough to buy into the (not really but the packaging says so) all natural crap.
      33 minutes ago · 

    • Michael E. Higgins it's soda made with sugar and not corn syrup, i'm allergic to corn syrup.
      33 minutes ago · 

    • Eric Giroux All natural!! *Made with 40% real fruit*
      32 minutes ago · 

    • Michael E. Higgins ingredients: water, sugar, citric acid, "natural" flavor, potassium citrate.
      31 minutes ago · 

    • Eric Giroux Blood of a virgin.
      29 minutes ago · 

    • Michael E. Higgins you gave blood?
      29 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby bahahahahaha! best thread ever.
      28 minutes ago · 

    • Eric Giroux Listen, you have to stop bragging about the time you warmed up a cantaloupe and....YOU'RE STILL A VIRGIN!
      26 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby oh, my, american pie. minus the pie, plus a cantaloupe.
      25 minutes ago · 

    • Eric Giroux He was so proud of himself.
      25 minutes ago · 

    • Michael E. Higgins the cantaloupe never called me back
      24 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby that's ok. don't feel bad. my fruit "friends" never call back either.
      24 minutes ago · 

    • Eric Giroux I...have never had sex with fruit. So I can't relate.
      23 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby i'm a hot girl. i can do whatever i want and its okay. but oh, how i miss you, cucumber #1,219.
      23 minutes ago · 

    • Eric Giroux I was going to make a pickle joke, but I decided against it.
      21 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby a banana joke will work just fine should you need some release.
      21 minutes ago · 

    • Eric Giroux Mike where did you go we need an adult here.
      20 minutes ago · 

    • Michael E. Higgins mia...i am speechless. mostly because im trying to not picture that occurring. Eric prefers barn yard birds.
      19 minutes ago · 

    • Eric Giroux Why do you do this to me.
      19 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby ha! ok, let's clear it up. I DID NOT HAVE SEXUAL RELATIONS WITH THAT FRUIT.
      18 minutes ago · 

    • Michael E. Higgins aren't cucumbers vegetables?
      16 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby i was just generalizing. but yes. NO CUKES!
      15 minutes ago · 

    • Eric Giroux Cucumber is a fruit.
      15 minutes ago · 

    • Michael E. Higgins lol
      15 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby hang on. i have to consult wikipedia to test the veracity of the cucumber being a fruit statemnet.
      14 minutes ago · 

    • Michael E. Higgins holy shit, the world is ending eric ws right
      14 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby oversleeping, social networking, and fruit sex. mike, i have my next blog entry!
      14 minutes ago · 

    • Michael E. Higgins lol, this is almost how all of our convos go (eric's and mine)
      13 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby good to know. i'll be sure to tune in on the regular to throw a dash of chick in the shenanigans.
      12 minutes ago · 

    • Eric Giroux Mike if it has seeds, it's a fruit. Which means you have seeds cause you're a fruit ICE COLD BURN!
      12 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby ouch, even i felt that burn. wait, i forgot my wikipedia quest...
      11 minutes ago · 

    • Eric Giroux Wait...technically you could cause of your...Oh snap you don't have testicles nevermind.
      11 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby yeah, no. that would be true. no wiki needed.
      10 minutes ago · 

    • Michael E. Higgins where is the love?
      10 minutes ago · 

    • Michael E. Higgins mia did you ever find your phone?
      9 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby no. but i bought a new one.
      7 minutes ago · 

    • Michael E. Higgins same number?
      7 minutes ago · 

    • Eric Giroux No. It's 867-5309.
      6 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby yep, but be prepared for me to lose it again. probably in a pile fo fruit.
      5 minutes ago · 

    • Michael E. Higgins you mean 86-75309
      5 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby ‎*of
      5 minutes ago · 

    • Michael E. Higgins a pile of fruit now? wow
      5 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby i ♥ jenny.
      5 minutes ago · 

    • Eric Giroux No I meant what i typed you botch.
      5 minutes ago · 

    • Michael E. Higgins that was the password to my college radio station
      4 minutes ago · 

    • Eric Giroux I hope for your sake it's not still your password for anything else. Cause I will find out.
      4 minutes ago · 

    • Michael E. Higgins pfff i'm not that easy
      3 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby ‎8675309? that means that's probably the password for all your shit now. stats dictates so.
      3 minutes ago · 

    • Mia Bixby ‎60% of the time it works all the time.
      3 minutes ago · 

    • Michael E. Higgins nope, go ahead...try
      3 minutes ago · 

    • Eric Giroux That doesn't make sense.
      2 minutes ago · 

    • Michael E. Higgins what in any of this thread made sense?
      about a minute ago · 

    • Eric Giroux Dammit Michael.
      about a minute ago · 

    • Eric Giroux It's the next line in Anchorman that she quoted.
      51 seconds ago · 

    • Michael E. Higgins only seen it once
      40 seconds ago · 

    • Eric Giroux This is why you suck
      3 seconds ago ·