On turning into a mental zombie....

I remember a time in my life when writing was all I could think about. I like to call this period:

UNDERGRAD.

Granted, my degree is in writing and editing, so the central focus of my entire undergraduate career revolved around writing. But, oh, the interesting things I got to write about! I created a new government. I dissected American Gothic literature (which was a labored, but worth-it effort). I wrote about Canada and Japan and how both of those countries have made an indelible mark on my heart. I got to write about, fight about, and talk about cheerleading and it's validity as a sport. I tore apart my grandmother's favorite movie and fell even more in love with it by doing so. I even wrote several technical instruction manuals (something I'm very good at, but also find incredibly boring). 

I remember when writing for a magazine consumed me and was my ultimate goal. Specifically, I wanted to write for Vanity Fair or The New Yorker. I realize these were (and are) very lofty goals, something so few people will ever get to do, but a girl's gotta dream, right? 

And then I graduated, got my fancy degree, and, well...stopped writing. 

Yep. I essentially stopped using the degree I'd worked so hard to get. 

I suppose there are plenty of people out there that experience this very same thing. Going to all the trouble of getting the degree and then having to get a job doing something entirely different just to pay the bills. It's the curse of the floofy liberal arts degree. (To be fair, I have had one job that actually paid me for my writing and it was a ton of fun, even if it was just the one copywriting job...I loved it.)

So, now that I have all this time, I'm trying really hard to set aside parts of my week devoted to writing. I'm reading books on writing (the irony destroys me). And I'm trying to engage my brain more fully, even if that means I'm just having conversations on Facebook about the weird Right, the nutty Left, or idiot clothing CEOs. Whatever it may be, I need to keep my brain from going into atrophy. 

On wanting and having all the things....

Christmas is coming. Prepare yourself. Oh, wait. If all the malls and stores are correct, Christmas has been here since mid-October. And it drives.me.crazy.

I love Christmas. I always have. It's a part of how I grew up. I'm that girl that spends all year just waiting for the day after Thanksgiving so I can start putting up the tree and the decorations and begin my annual marathon baking sesh. I love shopping for things to give my friends and family. Even more, I love wrapping up the gifts in delightful paper and ribbons, perfectly coifed for their spots under the tree.

But something about Christmas this year is throwing me for a loop. Possibly, it's been throwing me for a lot longer than that. Or maybe it's just coming to head this year because this is the first Christmas in my adult life I haven't had my own job. I don't know. What I do know is that Christmas is out of control. It got crammed down my throat with a consumeristic vengeance this year and continues to do so. 

For a long time, I've been curious about the draw to Black Friday. I've only ever "done it" once, probably about fifteen years ago. I don't like the crowds and I don't like the fighting over stuff. I hear the stories every year about people getting trampled for a damn XBOX and I just shake my head. What is wrong with us? And that's even when stores had the decency to stay closed until 6a.m. on Friday morning. 

Now, corporations are actually making people work on Thanksgiving? Really?! Under threats of losing their jobs if they don't? What is wrong with us? I remember when the only stores that were open on Thanksgiving were grocery stores and even those were only open until noon. Grocery stores open on Thanksgiving? I can make my peace with that. I'm a professional ingredient forgetter. I can appreciate that Kroger is open for a few hours on Thanksgiving morning. But Toys R Us? Kohls? What in God's name do we need RIGHT FREAKING NOW that can't wait until Friday? I don't understand what bargain could be worth making someone be away from their family on (what I thought was) a lovely family-centric holiday. 

Which begs the question: are we really thankful? For anything? So many of us spend the entire month of November talking about things we're thankful for, but come Black Friday, how much of that do we remember? I wonder what that really says about our culture. 

Something that's weighed on me for many years now is that of responsible consumerism. Ever since I read "The Omnivore's Dilemma" back in undergrad, I've been more interested in knowing where my food comes from. Not only that, I'm growing to appreciate local economy much more than I ever thought I would. I love going to local farmer's markets and supporting CSAs. And that's to say nothing of my support for locally brewed beer (it should be clear by now that I love craft beer). 

But what if I were to take it a little further and consider where my stuff comes from?  What if, this year, instead of buying mass market Christmas gifts, I choose to make them? Or buy them from a local artist? Or even from Etsy? What if I chose to support local economy as much as I can? Or what if - oh my god - I bought gifts from the Salvation Army or the ARC? Inexpensive, creative, and supportive of those that can benefit from how I spend? 

So this year, I'll probably be doing the same thing I always do on Black Friday: sitting at home, drinking boozy hot chocolate or hot cider, playing cards with my family, maybe even decorating for Christmas. I'm lucky enough to get to spend this Thanksgiving with some of my extended family, something I haven't done, well, ever (we used to get together for Christmas every year when I was much younger, but never for Thanksgiving)...and there's not a way for me to describe how excited I am about this! Between Grandma's cooking and my delightfully hilarious aunts and my cousin and my uncle who knows how to make a killer cocktail, I can't quite contain my excitement for this year! 

But when it comes to gift giving, I'm going to play it down a bit, employ some alternative choices, and just...enjoy it. 

__________________________________________

If you're interested in reading some other thoughts on this topic, here are some blogs I've come across recently (this is certainly not a new topic): 

Happy Birthday, Jesus! Love, The Slaves

Lab Rats No Longer

The Christmas Conundrum

On finding a new career....

The question was posed some weeks ago: If money wasn't a concern, what would you want to do for a career? 

My answer: All of the things. 

There are just so many things I want to do and learn and experience. My first idea was to be a professional student. If I could get paid to just go to school and get degrees and learn things, I'd be a pretty happy girl. But then, what kinds of things? 

I really want to learn languages. Spanish, French, Arabic, and Japanese are on the top of my list (for now). My heart beats in a lot of languages...I wish I could speak all of them. I feel like a lot of the world's problems stem largely from a lack of communication, a lack of understanding. Or maybe even an unwillingness to understand. I would just like to talk with people, on their level, in their language. I watch people's eyes light up when my brother recognizes their dialect of Spanish and starts talking to them. I also remember how relieved I was when I was lost in Japan and someone just talked to me in English. There's something really lovely about hearing another culture speak your language. The art of communication is something special indeed.

I'd also really like to spend all my time learning to dance. To just be twirled around a dance floor for hours upon hours every day would make so many of my dreams come true. I love dancing. I love the music, the expressions, the pictures. I love the technique and the history and knowing which forms belong specifically to which style. I want to listen to Frank Sinatra and dance the foxtrot all the live long day. I want to go to salsa in Brazil and know that I don't look like a crazy person.

The lazy person in me (and she comes out with a great deal of force from time to time) wants to get paid to sit around and watch movies and TV all day. I have terabytes worth of movies I have yet to watch. **As an aside, I find it hilarious that I now talk about the amount of music and movies I have in terms of digital storage and not in terms of CD books or shelves.** I've been wanting to watch all the Best Picture winners for a long time. I've probably seen a few and don't know it. But I want to make a point of watching that which was deemed "The Best" by some arbitrary group of filmmakers and critics (or whatever).

Then there's cooking and baking. I've actually semi-seriously looked into going to culinary school. Then I quickly remember I barely know how to handle a chef's knife. But I would love to know how to cook like Julia Child or Gordon Ramsey or Giada or even Rachael Ray (with her blasted EVOO!). I just want to know how make delicious things all on my own. Now, I know that much of cooking (even baking, to a certain degree) is a lot of guess work, making stuff up, and trying to re-create flavors you've had in the past. But there are essentials that I want to know. I want to understand the chemistry behind why some things work and other things won't. I want to understand cooking at the most basic level so that I can move beyond that into the complicated (and delicious)! Just don't ever ask me to make a deconstructed salad. I'll just give you five bucks and send you to Whole Foods. Bam! Deconstruction at it's finest!

And much like learning languages, I'd love to get paid to travel. Honestly, this is probably the most desirable option. To wander about the world, experiencing all the cultures, eating all the foods, seeing all the history...and then to write about it. That would be the most ideal existence for me. It really combines all the things I love: travel, reading, writing, and eating. And maybe some dancing thrown in for good (and hysterical) measures. It's like an "Eat, Pray, Love" thing, but without the depression and anxiety at the beginning. Yeah, I'm sure I could get used to that.

Oh, and yoga. Can't forget the yoga. I don't think I ever want to be an instructor, but I would like to bring a mat with me wherever I go and find my spiritual center in whatever country I'm in.

So much of the world has so much to offer...we just have to be willing to take it in, without judgment, without pre-existing notions, without fear.

This is what I really want to learn through all of the aforementioned ideas: to live life without reservation.

On changing things up....

In less than one week my life has changed - and will change - dramatically. I quit my job a week ago today. This whole "early retirement" thing was a shock to the system. I'm still waking up at 5am every day and I'm pretty sure I'm more tired now than I ever was when I was working full time. Running errands, spending more time with the dogs, cleaning like a crazy person, doing yard work...it's madness! Each day, I get home from running around and it's all I can do to haul myself up to my bedroom and collapse onto the bed. I definitely did not expect that. 

To be fair, it's been a lot of fun stuff. I went on an eight mile bike ride yesterday, which I'd been itching to do. What I failed to take into consideration was the amount of hills in my city combined with my single gear cruiser bike. I looked a hot mess by the time I got home! I've gotten to go running without worrying about time. Grocery shopping during the day, however, is a complete joke. I'm certain that drivers are worse in the parking lots at one in the afternoon than they ever could be at six in the evening. Ridiculous. 

For the first three days of "retirement," I had plenty to keep me busy. Then yesterday, the boredom set in. I had absolutely nothing to do. And it sucked. I didn't really want to drive anywhere because gas is so expensive. Which also meant I couldn't take myself out for lunch. It was too hot to run or bike. The dogs were happy playing in the backyard. I had nothing to cook and didn't want to make cupcakes. All the laundry was done. My stuff is as packed as it can get. Seriously, there was nothing to do. 

I think that's my biggest fear when I finally get to Virginia and have all the free time in the world. I suppose the dogs and I will be taking many trips to the local dog park. I'd love to try to do yoga on my own. And I'll need to start running again in earnest. It's just that everything costs money. And we're trying our hardest to get rid of nearly all our debt before we move to Maryland, so spending money in Virginia isn't really going to be an option. It even costs money to go to the beach! Annoying. 

I've read blogs and advice columns from women who are housewives without kids and I'm still not really sure what I'm supposed to do with all my time. Outside of cleaning and cooking, what does one do with no money and all the time she could imagine? It's kind of funny to me, how drastically things have changed. I used to have money and no time. Now it's just the opposite. Harumph. 

I have a list a mile long of things I want to make when I get out there. The very first thing on my list is chocolate chip cookies. I've been struggling with those stupid cookies for nearly 15 years so I'm hoping the elevation (or lack thereof) will help me finally master my recipe. Fighting with recipes can be fun, but only for so long. It's high time I get those cookies under control. 

So there you have it. "Retirement," while awesome, is also going to take some getting used to. At least initially. I watched a TV show the other day where one of the characters retired (like, really retired, not just quit a job because he could) and he didn't really have any idea what to do with himself. I found myself identifying a little bit. I mean, when you've spent your entire life (or what seems like your entire life) working and suddenly you don't have to do that anymore, what are you supposed to fill all the time with? It's a real problem. A real question. 

I'm going to write (I really can't wait to get an office set up in our house in Maryland). I'm going to cook (it's going to be a lot like Julie & Julia. I'm just going to learn to make all the things I've been wanting to learn). I'm going to become a brilliant mixologist. I'll throw parties. And, my body will thank me for this, I'm going to keep running and doing yoga. And maybe I'll even go swimming from time to time, despite my fear of the ocean (I'm really going to need to get over that). Maybe I'll learn to make jewelry. I want to learn how to decorate cupcakes better. 

There's plenty to do. It's just a matter of doing it. And getting used to it. 

And maybe there will be kids involved someday...



If you like this post, follow me on Twitter: @micahdl
or email me: usetheclutch@gmail.com

On the fear of debt collectors....

1 Timothy 6:10 - For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs.

I’m convinced this is one of the most misquoted pieces of Scripture out there. More often than not, it’s simply stated that “MONEY is the root of all evil.” False. That’s never been true. Money can’t inherently be evil. If it were, there are lot of necessities that we’d probably end up stealing.

The LOVE of money, however…that kind of evil makes sense. At least, it does to me.

I wonder, though, if it goes further than just loving money.

I’ve never considered myself a lover of money. I mean, I like having it and I like spending it, but I wouldn’t say I’m in love with it. Quite the opposite, in fact. I’m terrified of it. I’ve spent the better half of my life living in fear of money. I hate debt. I hate being in debt. I hate worrying about how my bills are going to get paid.

My entire life, it feels like I’ve been a slave to money. Okay, not my entire life. But basically since I got my first car when I was 17. I’ve always owed someone money for something. Cars. Houses. Education. Credit cards (damn those necessary and evil things). And it’s the owing of money that has me terrified of money. I always wonder if I’ll have enough to retire on or if I’ll be able to support (or help support) a family or if I’ll get to travel the way I want to.

I’m a master budgeter. I have finances planned out for the next two to three years. In some ways, it makes me feel more comfortable. In other ways, I think if I deviate – even slightly – from that budget, everything will fall to pieces. I give myself very little wiggle room when it comes to money. I put a plan in place and I try desperately to stick to it. And when I inevitably don’t, I punish myself for it.

So is being afraid of money essentially the same thing as loving money?

I’d wager to say “yes” (ah haha…money pun). It really is.

What I think Timothy really meant is that being a slave to money, either through love or fear, isn’t healthy and distracts us from things that are so much more important. Things like taking the time (and money) to enjoy our families and our lives. Or giving back to the church (if you’re the Jesus-lovin’, church-goin’ type). Or simply not living in fear of the tiniest amount of debt.

I’m not suggesting anyone should be flighty or reckless with cash. I’m just suggesting that maybe it’s time to re-evaluate the way I view money, debt, and finances in general. And, because I am the Jesus-lovin’, church-goin’ type, maybe I re-think this fear of money and learn to trust a little more.

Things have a way of working themselves out. Fear not.

On taking a different route....

Working mom v. Stay at Home mom. 

Hell, working WOMAN v. Stay at Home WOMAN. 

It's quite a choice to make, isn't it? 

While I've never been a mother, I have been a woman for, well, just over 33 years now. And I've been working for 17 of those years. Like, legitimately working. Hard. I started working when I was 16 years old and haven't stopped. I got my first corporate job when I was 20 (after I dropped out of college) and basically just kept climbing that stupid ladder from then. I've been an executive assistant, a contracts liaison, an insurance agent, and, most recently, sales/service for a cheese company. I've made very small steps in my career, but each step has been both up and forward and, for me, that's is progress. 

During all that nonsense, I also finally completed my Bachelor's degree, something I honestly didn't think I'd ever do. It was hard and painful. There were plenty of tears and late nights and exhausted mornings (because I was still working full time). 

So working has become normal for me. A routine. I've done it for more than half my life at this point. And frankly, I like making money. I like being able to buy things and go out to dinner and have fun. 

And in one week, all of that is going to end. 

I'm "opting out." 

I'm choosing to spend my time taking care of a husband and a home (not to mention two little doggies). Part of it is out of necessity. I'm moving to one state for only about five months before moving again to another state where we'll be for three years. So a five month hiatus from the stress of my current life doesn't sound all that bad. But once we get to state # 2, I'm starting to wonder whether or not I should try to get another job. I suppose those first five months will help me decide. Will I be bored? Will I feel useless? Will I want to contribute - financially, to our home, and professionally, to the world? Will I feel like I'm missing out on something? My biggest fear, however is: Will I feel like I'm taking advantage of my new husband's career and finances? My second biggest fear is: Will I feel guilty for "wasting" my expensive, hard-earned college degree? 

My dream job, for as long as I can remember (except for that time in high school when I was sure I was going to be in the CIA) has been to write. I want to get paid to write. More recently, that became an even more focused desire to write for Vanity Fair. If you've never picked up that magazine, I highly recommend that you do. The writing is brilliant. If you need some back issues to look at, I have some recommendations. It's the perfect read for me...fashion, culture, op-ed, history. It's everything good about magazines without being weighed down by garbage (though it is quite a heavy magazine...thank God for the iPad edition!). That's the publication I want to write for. The reality is that it's probably way too late for me to start trying to go for that. So I just need to find other ways to write and get paid. 

The truth is, I think I'll love being at home. I've often wondered why more companies don't offer a telecommute option, regardless of whether someone is a parent or not. I've found that most people are far more productive at home than they are in an office (at least, some of the time). There are fewer interruptions and, frankly, it's nice to not have to wake up at 5:30am to take a shower and dress is business casual. Somedays, a girl just needs sweatpants, a pony tail, endless coffee, and a laptop. Talk about efficiency! It's the lack of making money and helping our financial situation that bothers me. 

I've thought about volunteering to curb any potential boredom, but that's really just working without getting paid and, as I've said before, I like making money. I also don't want to work at Starbucks or a bar. Well, to qualify, I don't want to work at some crappy dive. If I worked at a bar, it would have to be somewhere that I can be creative and not just sling beer. I want to do something that interests me. Even working part-time, I want to be challenged and intrigued. I want to contribute. 

So there you have it. "Opting out" is never going to be as easy as it sounds. There are so many variables to consider. And not one "opt out" person is like the next. 

On living a life of abundance....

Last night, for the first time, I cried during yoga.

I've been fighting a nasty cold for nearly a week and haven't been able to run in way too long. I hadn't been to a yoga class in two weeks. My whole body just ached. I felt weak and powerless, but like I really needed to be there that night. I figured I do the best that I could and if that meant being in a resting pose for an hour, then that's what that meant.

My instructor was at Wanderlust in Copper Mountain over the weekend (in the gorgeous, refreshing mountain air while I was sweltering on the east coast, learning how to be a military beach bum) and she told the class she had a special message from one of her favorite yogis. Shelly always has something special or fun or insightful to say and everything she says always just makes me feel good so I was looking forward to whatever gem she was going to offer.

Shelly's end-of-class mantra always includes the words, "Keep smiling!" She lives in a world of smiles and joy and abundance. I don't know her that well, but what I do know is that she finds the good in things. When Boston and Newtown happened, she took it as an opportunity to encourage us to put light and love into the world. That's just the kind of person she is.

But last night's little nugget of happiness hit me like a ton of bricks.

BE UNAPOLOGETIC ABOUT BEING ABUNDANTLY JOYFUL. (Shiva Rae)

I immediately started crying and dammit if my ujjayi breath didn't force more and more tears out. Suffice it to say, I had a hard time breathing in and out my nose last night. Between the tears and the headcold muck, I mostly just schnucked and sniffed and huffed through my whole practice. I sang along with songs. I didn't really give a rip about breathing or focus or intention. Or maybe I did. I just kept thinking about the last few months of my life and the next few to come and how, for some reason, I've felt a need to be "sorry" or secretive about how happy I really am.

So here's my reality.

I'm getting married in FIFTY DAYS! FIFTY! That's completely bonkers to me! Most of the planning is done. It's not all the hard because of how small the wedding is. The boy I'm marrying is fantastic and amazing and there's not a way for me to be more excited about what our future holds. We chose to have a small wedding for a couple reasons. 1 - it's #2 for each of us so the bill is entirely on us and we're moving AGAIN in less than six months. 2 - we wanted a small wedding. That's it. We just wanted something intimate and easy. I'm excited to share the day with our parents, siblings, and my best friends (I'm lucky enough to have three...and I'm certainly not apologizing for that). If we're lucky, Jeff's best friend will be able to join us too. I'm excited about all the people and vendors that have helped me be able to do certain things (photography, my flowers, etc) either inexpensively or free. I'm grateful for the generosity of creativity that has been lavished on me. I thought about getting a cheap and/or second-hand wedding dress, but instead I just went for it. I got a real wedding dress. A designer dress. And then, with a little more luck, a co-worker offered me an off-the-rack designer reception dress for next to nothing.

I'm friggin' excited! I am not sorry about that. It shouldn't have to be a secret. I get to embark on a new life with a wonderful man and there's no reason not to feel anything less than thrilled about it! And I have every intention of celebrating the awesomeness of this marriage to its fullest, whatever that means. I don’t always know what that looks like, but I know I’m going to celebrate in whatever big and small ways I feel like it.

But here's the thing: I'm also a little terrified. Not of getting married. I'm a little scared of moving. I'm nervous about leaving the only home I've ever really known. All my friends are here. My church is here...the place I've been a part of for almost 20 years. That's a really long time to belong somewhere. My running trails are here. Short story: my history is here. It's hard to leave that. I'm a Colorado girl, through and through. Maybe a little part of me thought I always would be and here I am jaunting off to new territory, new running terrain (and altitude), and new adventures. I'm afraid of forgetting and being forgotten. I'm afraid of moving away from the familiar.

And yet, none of that makes me NOT want to do this.

I'm excited!

I'm unapologetic!

And I'm outta here!