Gracefully Go

With the holidays neatly packed away into photos and thank you notes, school resuming tomorrow, and the daylight hours increasing toward spring, I'm ready for the new year...one winning day at a time.

Perhaps it is collective consciousness that spurs us all toward the tipping point, and we give in to contemplating resolutions.  Maybe the darker days give us a sense of more time to reflect. Some choose to ardently avoid resolving to anything in the hope that, then, there would be no chance of letting one's self down.  But me?  Oh, I'm a goal maker.  Probably an over-goal maker.  At some point along the way (early motherhood?) I learned the hard way to be kind to myself when I fall short of my hopes, it is a journey after all.  Still, I've found I need that Sirius in my sky.  I need some sort of direction.  Without it, I find myself blue, or worse, envious of the folks who (with all of my capabilities) appear to have greater fulfillment.

All that in mind, here's my list.

1.  Commit to my self.  When I make a decision to say, get up on time, or write more each week, or drink more water, I will stick to it.  If I can't uphold promises to myself, who can I be true to?  That being said, I will also choose my commitments wisely, realistically.

2.  Finish what I start.  If I say I'm going to train for the Shamrock Run, finish yoga school, or knit a scarf - I will follow through.

3.  Listen.  To my heart, my son, my husband, my family (Yes, Mom, that means you.), my friends, my students, nature...whoever else needs my ears.   And, respond compassionately.

4.  Talk less.  SO hard for an Irish-Italian teacher of high school Language Arts and Drama! But, let this be the yang to listening's yin.

5.  Move this body.  This is the year I turn 40.  While I plan to be sexy way beyond sixty, it's unlikely I'll ever reclaim the tone and "lift" of my 1998 carnation.  So, I will enjoy and savor the bounty of this body everyday as much as possible.  Run. Stretch. Dance.  Hike. Laugh.  Love.  Gracefully go.

6.  Nourish my self.  Drink the water, skip the sugar, enjoy the greens.  Read the good stuff, seek skillful teachers.  Rest. Find and do what really feels good.

7.  Fortify.  I've got no crystal ball.  Instead, I will keep a clean house and be ready for company.  Which is to say, I will write my will, manage my dollars and tuck some away, and burn this candle only from one end.

8.  Fear less.  Oh, that inner critic whose loud monkey voice repeats, "She doesn't like you.  You can't do this!  It's not good enough.  You're no Betty Crocker."  Yes, that one.  Muzzled.

9.  Celebrate more.  Why the hell not?  This is such a good, good life!

10.  Grow things.  The garden.  Some chickens.  Guitar skills.  Friendships.  Awareness.

How about you?  How will you gracefully go this year?

Why I Wait

The other night we watched the film 2012.  For the record, I've loved John Cusack since he first appeared in The Journey of Natty Gann in the 80's.  Also for the record, he's been in better flicks.  However, John's never been in a film where his character has been luckier than in 2012, except maybe Serendipity.  Did you see how many near misses he survives with falling skyscrapers, surface cracks, volcanoes, and falling debris?  Ridiculously amazing!  

What gets me about the story line of this summer blockbuster (which I wish I'd been able to watch at the drive in...) is - amid a hyperbole of pyrotechnics and mass destruction - a clear message is made about human behavior.  We wait.  We wait until all hell breaks loose before we act. 

In my case, this is annually illustrated by the manner in which I avoid preparing my taxes. I know "The End" is coming.  All those documents start arriving in the mail in early January.  My former students take up jobs dressed like the Statue of Liberty and wave from the streetside in front of that tax place.  I get the paperwork from my tax lady in the mail in December, I think.  

And still, I wait.  

The mountain of receipts waits.

The tax lady's envelope sits, unopened, waiting.

The date of my appointment looms on the calendar.

My stomach churns.

And it's so silly.  The actual deed of getting my "poop in a group" takes less than an afternoon.  I always get a return.  There's never any surprise misery.  And, every year I think to myself upon compilation of the necessary materials, "Angela, next year you'll just sit down and get it done in January."

But I don't.  Why?

Translating the phenomenon to other neighborhoods in my financial kingdom, why don't I check my bank statements?  Why do I wait to pay my bills?  Why do I hesitate to send the check to whomever for whatever?  Even checks to cash linger on my desk for eons.  What's keeping me from taking action?  

My lousy reason:  I'm a people person.  People and time with them are more important to me than the green stuff.  I'd prefer to honor their value by spending my time with them rather than spending it stooped over receipts and bills and spreadsheets.  Obviously, that anthem only gets me so far.  If Mr. Cusack had used such an approach to survival in 2012, he never would have escaped  suburbial California enroute to the beckoning great arks of salvation.

So, here's to a year of quitting the waiting game.  Since I'm impatient about everything else, why not about my bank balance is?  Why not rush to that relief that comes from getting the bills paid for the month?  Why not organize receipts each month in preparation for the next tax appointment?  What sweet rewards await!  And how many metaphorically falling buildings will I miraculously dodge!  

My goal for consumer debt freedom remains set for September 2012.  That will give me exactly three months to celebrate solvency before the end. Sweet.  

 

Valentine's Day...bringing back the paper hearts

I absolutely love Valentine's Day.  Absolutely.  And, I relish the act of creating Valentines for the dear ones in my life.  Paper hearts decorated with little bits of this and that?  I'm positive a person could actually see my happiness effervescing and filling the room as as I cut and shape and glue and sketch.

Isn't is amazing how a simple gesture of love...a paper heart...can hold more sentiment than the fancy cards with the computerized recording of a wookie?

Sure is good news for a girl on a budget.

Reality and the Bucket

Since August, when Reality came knocking, broke my door down, found me sweetly sleeping, and summarily dowsed me with a bucket of ice water, I've responded by waking up, drying off, cleaning up, and repairing the damage.  While stodgy ole Ms. Reality may be stalking behind me, bucket still grasped tightly twixt her fingers, she's getting bored.

Here's why.

For one, on my quest for debt-less-ness, I joined a debt management program.  Through Clearpoint Financial I've been able to decrease my monthly consumer credit bills, lower interest rates dramatically, and consolidate my payments to those companies into one, automatically withdrawn sum.  Having survived the initial three month period with both of the card companies, they have agreed to re-age my account, place it in good standing, and remove finance charges related to any late fees.  Essentially, I've been able to transform 10,000,000 years of debt into three.   No hyperbole.

This has been much less painless than I'd expected.  I had actually, repeatedly put off contacting Clearpoint for fear of judgement, or worse, rejection.  Apparently, dealing with situations like mine (and those much more dire) is the line of work these folks are in.  Go figure.  AND, credit card companies actually PAY these organizations to work with us.  Saves them money in the long run.  Funny what a girl can learn when she gets on the phone and faces her embarrassment.

For "two"?  I'm credit free.  I haven't purchased anything on plastic, imaginary money since August.  From the time that credit card imprinter at Roseburg's JC Penny's first ca-chunked across my card as I purchased a pair of teal lycra tights for dance class to the last time my VISA slipped through the fingers of my fancy hair salon stylist in Portland August 5 spanned some 22 years.  Twenty-two years of plastic dependency over.  Done.  Finito.  Kaput.  Adios.

These last eight months...I have survived.  Miracle of miracles, I'm still loved by my family and friends, I haven't starved, or had to hitch a ride to work with strangers, or even been dejectedly home alone on a Friday night.  I don't even eat Top Ramen.  Unless I want to.

Truly, I've done more than survived.  I've thrived.

I've learned to just tell myself, "No, Angela.  You don't NEED another pair of black shoes...or that wrinkle cream...or that random item simply because it is on sale."  I've learned to CUT MY OWN HAIR.  And color it...AT HOME!  I open my mail...even the things that look like bills.  (I may still pile them on my desk...)  I feel good about shopping for bargains.  I've almost gotten comfortable when asking for and receiving help from others.  Almost.

Things are much, much rosier when I gaze upon my financial landscape.

Still, among my greatest attributes, one will not find consistency.  Even as I'm committed to this process, I stumble.  For example, more than a month has gone by when I've ignored the bills I've opened.

Wait.  Let me be honest.

That sentence should more precisely read:  More than a few months have passed when I've feared checking my bank balance, and I have therefore left opened bills unpaid.  Case in point?  My garbage cans were recently "retrieved" by the sanitation company for lack of payment.  (In my defense, there's been a glitch in the auto bill pay that I'll be unraveling tomorrow.)  If I'd actually taken action when I got the first notice, I'd still have a place to stash my trash.

But, progress is my game plan, and progress is what I'm steadily making.  The good news is, I've recently set all my monthly, predictable expenditures up on automatic payment.  Duh.  Could have done that about eight months ago.  Technological consistency.  See?  I'm getting better at receiving help!

Reality, put your bucket down, missy!

Writing on the Wall

Where to start?  Bleck.  Argh.  Thbbbbt! 


There's a part of me so proud of the changes I've made...and a part of me discouraged by the habits that linger.  It's like I've just caught myself drawing on the walls in Sharpie; I'm simultaneously impressed by the artistry, and pissed about the mess to be undone.

While during these last quiet months I can celebrate the fact that, since August, I've not incurred additional debt, I can also bemoan the fact that creditors call hourly.  

You see, in September while short on dollars to cover all bases, I paid only a portion of my monthly payment on two accounts.  I figured, "Can't pay it all, but I'll demonstrate the effort.  Surely, in these hard times, the credit companies will recognize and respect this."  Not so.  The next month, the calls and recorded messages began, "This is Lisa, please contact us to discuss some options for repayment of your account."  Apparently, despite the fact that my October payment was full and on time, the lacking full payment from September haunts me still as "late."  A mar on my credit and a major annoyance.  Talking with the representatives has been helpful, and I continue to pay my minimum plus additional dollars to close the gap of what's due, but I've garnered some late payments and haven't helped my credit rating.

Additionally, I've done a great job of avoiding that vital step called "monthly budgeting."  While I've made it to the end of the month without begging, borrowing, or stealing, I'm sick of the uneasiness this creates...and the dumb choices I make. 


This holiday season I'm pleased to state that I made more gifts than I purchases, all with less expense and greater value.  I've cut and colored my own hair.  I've saved for, rather than charged, the basic cosmetics and hair products when they've run out.  I've even stoked up the ole crockpot for less expensive and less time intensive meals.  Repurposing clothing?  I'm all about it.  I'm making changes... and, I'll admit, really enjoying the results.  

BUT, I'm not over the hump yet.  And the bleak picture of forever pinching pennies absolutely drives me crazy.  Will I ever have enough money to go on vacation?  Will I ever get to purchase jeans that actually fit me again?  What kind of additional income can I generate to actually push me through this as fast as possible without sacrificing time with my son or my sanity?  When can I quit shopping at WinCo, the warehouse store where little children scream and holler about buying another box of SugarPops and parents wheeze to heft up another case of soda, but we all get good deals?

Aaaaaargggggh!  I absolutely hate this.  

While it's comforting to share in the notion that many Americans share my plight in this time of economic unrest, it doesn't make it better, or finished, or history.  And I want to be done.  If success is measured by desire, I am sure to hit my goal of debtlessness by September 4, 2012.  Sure to hit my goal.

So, today, I measure my victories in the war against my bad habits, and renew the surge against the situation.  Today, I pencil in the budget one more time and finally make that call to a consumer credit counseling service.  Damn it.  Damn it.  Damn it.  Writing's on the wall.

Temptations

I feel like I'm on a diet.  On a diet at Costco on Sample Saturday.  Everything looks good.  And, little bites don't really count...do they?

I'm hungry.  I'm hungry for all of the ways I used to blow money.  Like stopping for coffee.  Or having lunch out.  Or buying something at the market that isn't on sale.  Little bites, that most definitely count.

The temptations this month are plentiful, even if the dollars are scarce.  October marks my one year anniversary of dating the most terrific man in the land, my son's ninth incredible year on the planet, the unfortunate end of the allowable lapse between hair color treatments, and Halloween money magnets like treats and costumes.  Not all of these can be attended to on a monthly budget.  Especially one $500 less than usual due to last month's draw.

Life on a vow of credit celibacy is not luxe.

Yes,  this is a month where my mommy delusions kick in and I battle the unceasing compulsion to purchase the stuff of Zane's every desire.  Not that I seriously entertained the items on his much talked about wish list this year.  I may not be the only delusional member of my family if he was seriously expecting that electric scooter,  Pug puppy,  cell phone, and new DSi with games.  But, I confess, in years past, efforts to come close to such a list would have been my dearest aim...all without once calculating the impact on my pocketbook.

I suppose that's the luxury of credit - no immediate impact.  In terms of dieting, this kind of shopping bears much in likeness to binge eating at Thanksgiving.  Everything looks so good...and it's only once a year...I'll risk the indigestion and the wild discomfort of a bloated tummy just so I can have a slice of each of those desserts...and some more stuffing with gravy...and another blackberry daiquiri.  Of course, there is indigestion and bloating and discomfort and one swears she'll never eat that much again in all her life.  Until the company Christmas party...and then family feasts...and then New Years...and then, 'Hey!  I can't fit into my jeans!  How did this happen?!"

This year, though, this year for the birthday celebrations, I did just as the women's magazines suggest their readers do in the event of festive holiday occasions -  I made a plan, had a snack at home before leaving the house (aka, checked the bank account), and spent wisely.   Also, I did my best to look dashing so as to distract myself and others from the old eating/spending habits I was avoiding.

My plan:  shop and plan ahead, look for deals, include only the necessary
My pre-party snack:  find things that I can make or do without any expense
My wise spending:  spend less than $50 on gifts, and less than $30 on the party


Working the plan:
It was quickly decided by Zane's dad (who has always handled dollars wisely) and I, that simple and easy were key factors in this year's celebration.  That boded well for the budget.  The location would be Farmer John's Pumpkin Patch and Corn Maze.  I'd make the cupcakes.  He'd pick up some pizzas and drinks.  We'd give the kids pumpkins as their goodies.  Happily, there's no charge for using their covered picnic area, the maze admission was inexpensive, and the outdoor venue meant these third graders could run and holler to their hearts' contentment without disturbing the peace.  Given the sugar content in the cupcakes, that was a fortunate bonus.

In preparation, I skipped purchasing and mailing invitations and opted for the quick and dirty text message to the moms.  I'm still a little embarrassed by this, but wow.  It worked. Making the cupcakes was a snap.  Where I typically go the whole "from scratch" route, for this audience, I chose Betty Crocker mix and frosting.  Pop that batter in mini-cupcake tins and we're off on the road of creativity.  Whooo!

Gift wise, I knew I'd fall short of the wish list.  But, fortunate for me, my kid is a bit of a sentimentalist.  I mined through a year of family outing photos and created a whole little album detailing Zane's adventures.  Walgreen's had a web special of a 50% discount on 4X6 prints upon which I capitalized and voila!  Instant pleaser!  And, only $11.00.

Looking great wise?  Well, I wore a hat to hide my much grown out dye job. :)  Voila.  Birthday party success.

And, the best reward, even better than coming in on budget, was Zane's last thought before heading off to bed, "I wish every day could be like this..."

Progress?

This is hard.

I don't like it.

I just scrounged $5.00 from the ends of the earth to put a few more gallons of gas in my tank so that I could avoid getting stranded on the side of the road...and over-draughts.

The upside is that I haven't incurred debt since mid-August.

Yeah for me.

But, this is hard and I don' t like it.