Category Archives: Confessions

Confession: I spend too much money

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A few years ago in an attempt to better regulate how I spend my money I decided to take two weeks and write down everything I spent, cash and debit card, all of it. I know it’s all there online, but the physical act of keeping a list really was eye-opening to me. I mean, I live mostly by myself, I don’t have kids, I make good money and only have a few bills and expenses. I can usually buy most things I want or need without thinking twice about it. And, um, I was not thinking twice A LOT. After this little budgetary exercise I decided to spend a month with a pretty restricted budget on going out to lunch or dinners, shopping, and even tried to be more careful at the grocery store.

Ya’ll, it’s time for that type of “detox” again. I have decided that May will be a month of no additional spending. I have gotten very lackadaisical about keeping a discerning eye on my wallet and in doing a little math today I am horrified at the number of dollars that have been spent with very little to show for them as far as quality experiences, quality meals, or quality products. I’m not saying that all purchases need to be for the highest quality consumption only, but looking over my account history I have WAY TOO MUCH low-quality spending.

So, I’m making changes. And instead of thinking about this for a week or two and then selecting a perfect day to start (you know, a week or 10 days in the future so I can “stock up” before the spending freeze), I’m just going to change. Immediately. Starting right now and going through the end of May.

A few luxury categories where I feel I can really save some pennies:

1. Food. Of late I have become really lazy about meal planning and have spent far too much money (and calories) in lunches and take-out for dinner. I need to buckle down and watch what I eat a little better, this will benefit my bank account AND my waistline. Those white jeans I bought last year will be worn much more frequently this summer if I don’t feel like a stuffed sausage when I pull them on.

2. My feet. I really don’t need another professional pedicure; I’m pretty good at doing them myself and already have all the supplies. Also, I need a new color of nail polish like I need a hole in the head, so that is being cut immediately. (Side note: WHY DO I HAVE SO MUCH NAIL POLISH!? Oh. Because I keep buying it.)

3. Books. It hurts my heart SO MUCH to have to list this here, but I went back for the last six months to calculate just how much I’ve spent buying books…and it’s kind of exorbitant, more than $100 a month. Now, I read voraciously, but I already have more books than I can probably read in the next two years, even at my 10 books/month average pace. I can probably go a whole four weeks without buying any new ones, and I can probably cut my monthly spending down significantly without feeling any real cramp in my style. (Sob!)

4. Car washes. Months ago I signed up for an unlimited car wash service that costs my about $35 a month. Honestly, I use it about once a week, so it’s not like it’s wasted cash. I like Miss Persimini to look her shiny best and my long blonde hairs need to be regularly vacuumed out of the carpet. But at $35 a month that is about $250 worth of car washes until I move to Arizona…and that suddenly seems really, really expensive. I’m going to try canceling it this month and re-evaluate in June to see if this expense is truly justified, and perhaps see if there is a less expensive overall option.

5. Impulse shopping. Again, this has been my downfall. A cute v-neck t-shirt! (just $12 bucks!) New chapstick! ($3 bucks) New nail polish! ($8 bucks) Cute cloth napkins with birds on them! ($10 bucks) A comedy show with friends! ($30 bucks) An “It’s been that kind of a Monday” sushi lunch! (only $25 bucks) Followed, of course, by Taco Tuesday ($7 bucks) and Burrito Thursday ($12 bucks) and…well, you see where this is going, don’t you? I don’t need any of these things, and while I am not willing to cut little luxuries like this out of my life and budget permanently, I could really be better about paying attention to how I am spending my hard-earned monies.

Um….Hi, my name is Harriet and I have a super first-world spending problem….good hell, this list is depressing in its admission of enormous levels of economic privilege. Blergh. I kind of hate myself right now. The best we can do is admit where we are falling short, make changes, and move forward with a new perspective and new habits, right?

Okay. Here it goes.

From now until the end of May I am in major curb-my-spending mode. Of course I will still be paying my bills and I’ll be going to the grocery store every week and if there is some kind of medical emergency I will not for one minute choose not to use my health insurance and HSA card (hiiiii, economic privilege!). BUT, I won’t be shopping aimlessly; I won’t wander around Target or Etsy or the J. Crew Outlet website; I won’t waltz to a sub-par food-court type restaurant for lunch four days a week; I won’t be buying new makeup products to experiment with; and I won’t be adding to my bookshelves in any way.

Honestly? This probably won’t be easy for me. I hope it will be the kind of budgetary cleanse I need to keep my spending more in check. Have you ever done a month of no spending? Or more? What did you think? Did it help curb some of your habits? Did you find you could overall live with spending less after your little experiment? What was the hardest part? Easiest? Most enlightening? I’m so curious about your findings and overall results.

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Love all your neighbors

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Almost a decade ago I was tentatively coming back to my church after a relatively brief–but angry and heart-broken–absence. I was newly single and learning how to be myself again while slowly putting my life back together. One Sunday evening I attended a dinner gathering for us newbies to meet some of the church leadership outside of a more formal church setting, an idea I think is kind of brilliant, actually, and wish happened more often. I was sitting in someone’s living room, paper plate of pot-luck on my knees, chatting and trying to make some new friends. That is when Gaaron walked in. Gaaron was an old friend of someone who was there, he was on a cross-country road trip and only in town for the night. His friend had invited him to come to this dinner thing for a little while.

Gaaron–a name he explained was an amalgam of “Gay” and “Aaron”–had a fuzzy Kermit the Frog backpack, a pink baseball hat, and wore a black t-shirt that said “Nothing This Fabulous Should Be In The Closet.” He was introduced to the group, and to their credit the people there were polite, if not overly friendly or kind. I immediately liked Gaaron, he reminded me of a couple hilarious graphic designers at my office. After he got a plate I beckoned to an empty chair beside me; I asked him about his travels, he complimented my liquid eyeliner and nail polish, and pulled a bottle of body glitter out of his Kermit backpack explaining that it would make my eyes sparkle. He was genuine, happy, kind, and funny. Had Facebook been invented at the time (you know, for non-Ivy League plebeians) I would have added him as a friend on the spot. After maybe 45 minutes or an hour, he and his friend–the guy in my church–left to go about their business of catching up and a little city sight seeing.

And that was when those church people I was meeting for the first time–highest local leadership included–stopped being polite. They laughed, nastily mimicked his voice and hand gestures, mocked his clothes and the content of his backpack, said a number of offensive and degrading things about his character, morality, and personality, and expressed genuine relief that he had finally left.

I was shocked, and to my forever shame I said nothing. I was so surprised at the two-faced behavior of these “Christians,” I was confused as to why they were polite to his face, only to mock him behind his back. In a world of “love thy neighbor” and the Golden Rule, how could they possibly justify their behavior? I don’t portend to know everything about Jesus, but I’m pretty sure that were He there He wouldn’t have belittled Gaaron. He would have just loved him because Gaaron is a human being and we as humans are to to be kind and respectful to other humans, and as Christians we are commanded to love all other humans, end of story.

If Gaaron was your friend, would you mock him? If he was your brother, would you laugh at him? If he was your son, would you ostracize or scorn him? Well, he is someone’s friend, someone’s brother, and someone’s son.

For several days I had all these terribly conflicting emotions about Gaaron. How could I sit there, thinking I was this reconverted Christian, embarrassed for how my new friend was being treated, yet too embarrassed to stand up for him to a room full of bullies strangers. This was ten years ago, but I still acutely feel how uncomfortable this situation made me feel, both the comments that were made, and the fact that I did nothing. Then I was uncomfortable, now I am outraged. A few days after meeting Gaaron I typed out my experience and my part in this bullying behavior, and I sent it to the 5 or 6 gay friends I had at the time. It was so hard to admit that I didn’t defend Gaaron, or even tell his taunters to shut the hell up. At the end of that email I promised each of those friends that I would never again stand by in such a situation, that I would not be too embarrassed to tell someone to shut their mouth, to knock it off. That I would actively defend any gay person against those who mocked or hurt them based on their sexual orientation or outward appearance.

I have kept that promise–I will not tolerate homophobia to any extent. I will not allow someone to make biased and generalized judgement on someone’s morals or character based on whether or not they are gay. (Caveat: online posts I sometimes choose to disengage/defriend/unfollow/block instead of fight. Explaining to someone in-person that their behavior is not okay is very different than calling them out online. Wars have started due to the latter; I don’t fight with trolls or bigots online.)

My state leads the nation in suicide attempts of youth who identify as gay or lesbian. Almost half of the teenage homeless population here are gay and lesbian kids who were thrown out of their (religious) homes after coming out to their parents. Now, you tell me, does it seem more decent, more moral, more Christian to actively fight against this prejudice? Or is it better to actively contribute to teen homelessness and teen suicide and turn a judgemental-blind eye to the thousands and thousands who are seeking acceptance, kindness, and basic humanity? If you aren’t Christian, you don’t somehow get out of this “would you rather” scenario. If you are HUMAN, you need to make a choice: fight prejudice, or contribute to it.

I am a Christian, and despite what any religious leader says about homosexuality or homosexuals, Jesus said love thy neighbor. He didn’t say love only your white, middle-class, heterosexual, Republican, traditional-family, Christian neighbors. He said love thy neighbor, and that seems like a good rule of thumb for me. And if I get to St. Peter and the pearly gates and it turns out I am not heaven-bound because I did not make my gay/ethnic/poor/Jewish/Muslim/liberal/divorced/single-parent/blended family neighbor feel somehow “other” or “less than” then I don’t really want to go to heaven anyway. If that is the trade off, I’d rather be a decent human than be a celestial angel; if I’m wrong, I sure as hell don’t want to be “right.”

 

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You don’t have to agree with me, but if you leave a comment you do have to be nice. If you can’t say something nice, find somewhere else to spout your feelings. All homophobic or degrading comments will be immediately deleted and the author blocked. My blog, my rules.

If we went to lunch…

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I love going to lunch with friends, catching up on all the good (and difficult, and crazy) things in our lives and spending an hour or so having a genuine heart-to-heart chat. In that spirit, if you and I went to lunch today, this is what I would tell you (this post idea is blatantly hoisted from Nilsa over at SoMi Speaks, btw):

I would complain about the pollen and my insane seasonal allergies and the cost of prescription strength (but not covered by my insurance) medication. I love the springtime blossoms, but I love the rainy days even more because it keeps the pollen on the ground where it belongs and not in my nose, eyes, throat, and sinuses. I may also tentatively suggest that winter stick around just a little longer; I hate the heat, am no fan of the sun, and definitely don’t mind snuggling up with some peppermint tea and a good book.

I would gush about how much I am enjoying my job. It’s not something I thought I’d get in to, or stick with for so long, but after 4 years I am dedicated and invested and I really love it. I have consistently asked for additional responsibilities and projects, and have been given the opportunity to prove what I can do. My to-do list is miles long, I stay late many evenings (balanced by no-work weekends and a few early-off Fridays), but I am happy; happier than I’ve ever been from an employment situation.

I would confide that learning to live with a boy full time has been…an adjustment. We are fine, that’s not what I’m trying to say, but I didn’t realize how much of a change it would be having Blue Eyes home every night. We are living together, really, for the first time, only without most of those honeymoon-y butterflies. They have been replaced with humorous (but also, sometimes kind of annoying) statements like “Why is your hair always clogging the tub?!” and “Is it so hard to just throw your dirty socks 2 more feet so they land in the hamper!?” and “Why is my towel wet? Did you use my towel?” We are learning and adjusting, but, um, it’s a lot of adjusting. Apparently we were both pretty set in our individual ways (and sock-throwing habits).

I would announce that last year I gave up sugar and carbs for Lent and I’m trying it again this year (but not for Lent, just, you know, for the last little while). It is both harder and not nearly as bad as I remembered. The harder part comes from the days where my planning leaves a little to be desired and I’m trying to eat on the fly and find something that fits into the “no pasta, no bread, no rice, no cookies, no corn, no carrots, no fruit, no sugar of any kind” restrictions. The easier part is that, oh yeah, this isn’t actually as bad as it sounds. Lots of veggies, protein every day, a small snack between breakfast and lunch. It takes planning, but it’s not difficult planning. (This is a short-term “cleanse” type of thing, not a forever diet change.)

I would sigh and admit that as much as I enjoy my job, I sometimes daydream about being one of those ladies of leisure, the type that goes to mid-morning yoga (or can go to yoga AND the gym any given day without making working out the only other priority in her life outside of the office), or sign up for a weekly painting studio session, or a cooking class, or go to long lunches with other leisurely ladies, and volunteer for a Good Cause more whole-heartedly, and sometimes, to be completely honest, to spend several days parked in front of Netflix with a bevy of sweet and salty snacks and a never-ending supply of Diet Dr. Pepper. I know that after a little while I’d crave the structure and workings of an office and co-workers and the projects I’ve spent the last 4 years contributing to; and I also know ultimately that a life of leisure would not make me happy. But GOODNESS, sometimes it just sounds so wonderful.

I would let you know that being a stepmom is hard. Not that hanging out with Blue Eyes’ kiddos is difficult, nothing like that. In our situation (kids live out of state, I see them every couple of months for a weekend and then a longer chunk of time in the summer and at Christmas) I see my role in many ways as closer aligned to that of a favorite aunt than that of a parent. And I’m really good at being the favorite aunt. No, for me the kids are not the difficult part. It’s Blue Eyes’ x-wife. For years she has been the biggest cause of angst and anxiety and rage for both of us (and, sometimes, between us). She is truly a piece of work; I try and keep most of the bullshit off the internet and in my therapist’s office, but DAMN, she is a particularly nasty brand of CrAzYtOwN. If you recall, this is the woman who told outrageous lies about me and my writing and, ultimately, bullied and badgered me into shutting down my old blog completely. I tell you, she’s a gem. And SHE is what makes being a stepmom so damn difficult, not Blue Eyes, not his kids, not the child support and other payments, not any of that kind of stuff, just her. All by her (nasty) self.

I would probably swoon over the fact that without necessarily intending to, Blue Eyes and I have taken a page from RA’s book on not scheduling social things for at least one or two evenings per week. Last week Blue Eyes and I had zero social obligations; we both worked late here or there, but there was no rushing to somewhere else, no faking happiness or lack of fatigue when we’d really just prefer a nap, and no trying to one obligation early to tray and catch the tail end of another one, and no pinchy pants or shoes. We’d come home, change directly into pajamas and just…be. To end the day with snacks and books and conversations and Netflix in jammies and fuzzy slippers for SIX DAYS IN A ROW…ohmygoodness, it was the most refreshing thing. Dear Self: Please Create More Evenings Free of Obligations. Love, Harriet.

How about you? If we went to lunch (or out for coffee, or whatever), what would you tell me?

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I Regret Sleeping On That Couch…and Other Confessions

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Confession 1:

A number of years ago I got in a pretty nasty car accident and my neck and back have just never been the same. I was out of commission and packed in ice for months, and it was a couple of years before I was able to move anything close to the way I had before; I still deal with daily pain, discomfort, and achey-ness. To combat these ills I sleep on a special orthopedic pillow designed to cushion my head just so and support my neck just so; most nights I have a complicated pillow-wedge under my knees to eliminate pressure on my lower back and increase circulation in my feet. I sleep with a mouth-guard to prevent teeth grinding; I often sleep with an eye mask because light is a sure-fire way to wake me up. You guys, I am a VISION OF BEAUTY at night! Mr. Blue Eyes is a lucky, lucky man. A few nights ago I was so restless I moved to the floor…of the dining room…because the couch was just soooo far away. I dropped off immediately and sleeping on a thin rental-grade carpet over old wood floors was INFINITELY more comfortable than the couch. And now I wish I could take back every couch nap from the last 5 years.*

Confession 2:

I’m a married lady and probably shouldn’t admit this–but I have definitely lost track of the number of people I kissed prior to Blue Eyes. I mean, it’s not like I kept a list or something; I could give you a range, but again, I’m a lady and that’s not the type of thing we ladies publish. However, apparently, um, the number is pretty high? The handful of people who have cajoled it out of me were, maybe, possibly, slack-jaw shocked. Ahem.)

Confession 3:

I have an unnatural (and probably unnecessary) obsession with grooming the man I love; and Blue Eyes–god love him–indulges me. I pluck his eyebrows; I give him pedicures which include painting his toes in hot pink or neon green; I trim his cuticles and file his nails; I shave the hairs on his neck and pop the occasional pimple on his back. Basically, I am a chimpanzee and Blue Eyes is the subject of my need to engage in social grooming–he’s a very willing baboon, bless his heart.

Confession 4:

I don’t get YouTube. I mean, I understand the concept and general purpose, of course. But I do not understand how someone can sped hours watching music videos or video clips. But, then, if any video is over 30 seconds I just don’t have the attention span to watch the whole thing. GIFs are much more my style.

Confession 5:

I cannot go 24 hours (read: 24 minutes) without having my toenails painted. I mean, I don’t repaint my toes every day or anything, I just cannot have them polish free…ever. It makes me anxious and itchy and blotchy to have nekkid toes. I take the old polish off, trim, file, and immediately put on a bright new color. Even taking a bath or something in-between the removal and repainting makes me twitch. Clearly, this is A Thing with me. (Current hue: a cobalt-purpley blue)

What are your Friday Confessions?

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*It may be time to seriously consider buying a new couch instead of making do with a truck-load of hand-me-downs.

 

 

 

Fact and Fiction

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I thought starting a new blog would be easy, I thought the words would just pour out of my fingers and fill up posts without my hardly having to try. I thought I’d have immediate followers and readers and comments up the wazoo…

Ha!

Hahahahaha!

I really don’t know why how I can possibly justify this type of logic to myself, I know what blogging is like, I know it is difficult business, I know what the “writing-editing-revising-editing-writing-revising-editing-editing-editing-FINALLY hitting publish-only-to-find-a-spelling-error-in-the-last-paragraph” cycle is like. I know that quality content does not just stream out of anyone’s fingers; I know that commenters are an ever diminishing breed. But I was so hopeful, I need this site to be better for me. I need this to be a new “happy place.” I need to be able to share my hurts, my triumphs, my thoughts here. As most of you know, this is not my first blog. I have actually been blogging for years and years elsewhere in the vast universe of the internet. But in recent months “elsewhere” has become someplace I no longer can be honest or even be myself; things finally got so bad I decided to board up the windows and close everything down. That has also been a slow and difficult process, it’s like a part of me has died. Or, more accurately, it’s like I am actively killing something I love.

Despite knowing it would probably be the best thing for me and the 3 or 4 people who were most affected, shutting down my darling blog was (and is) really hard.

I am not embarrassed to admit that many (many!) tears were shed, lots of swears were yelled, and scenario after scenario was studied to make sure I was making the correct decision. There was not a single scenario with a dominating “pro” column and a completely empty “con” column. This was a really tough decision for me, and it has been weighing on my little heart for at least a year, probably longer. It’s been a dark, dark place.

The other day I read a quote by Madonna Badger, an art director for Calvin Klein who lost her three daughters and both parents in a Christmas Day house fire two years ago, she said:

“Basically, I go to wherever the light is, because anything else is darkness…”

Now, I am in NO WAY comparing closing a website to losing your entire family in one tragic day. But I love the idea of walking away from the dark things in our lives and trying to find something better. I am hoping that here will be better, safer, more real. I am hoping to unpack those vulnerable parts of myself and put them back where they belong. I hope I can throw open my windows and let in some sunshine. I want to write truthfully and honestly, even when it stings and even when it seems impossible.

Go to wherever the light is, because anything else is darkness.

Here we go!

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P.S. Um…my name is not actually Harriet. Most of the identifying information on this blog will be a variation on a truth or made up completely. (Does it seem strange to create an alter-ego in order to share your thoughts honestly? Well, yes, kind of. Strange, but necessary.) Harriet is my mask, but what is underneath the label–the actual content–is all me, more of me and a more true version of me than I’ve ever been able to share. And that, my friends, is refreshing! Exciting! Terrifying!  And awesome.