Tax Day Pep Talk

I was going to go to the new painting group last night, but then I remembered that I have an appointment with the Tax Man today. I decided to stay home and work to make up for the time I'll miss while I'm at the appointment. And then I couldn't sleep at all last night because nothing is more stressful for me than my taxes. This morning, I will gather my paperwork, walk the plank, and get shoved into an ever-growing sea of tax debt. You could say I'm a little worried.

So in order to snap myself out of this worried, twitchy, ill-feeling state, I shall write myself a little pep talk.

Dear Self,

You should be very proud. The year after you moved home, the economy collapsed. Some of your friends got laid off; some of your friends got fired. Companies you knew well (and one you actually worked for) failed. Sadly, you also knew some people who had sub-prime mortgages. It was an ugly time all-around, and it's still ugly. It's going to be ugly for a long, long time. The glory days are over.

But you know what? You kept working that whole time. You found contracts, created wonderful children's products, and learned new skills that would help you survive the upheaval of the publishing industry. When many of your former colleagues were struggling to find work, you had a few years of freelancing under your belt already, so you had the advantage. And you even took some contracts that you really didn't want to take just to get new clients, show your existing loyalty, or take one for the team. It's been a rough battle, but you have survived. Sometimes, you even get too many contracts all at the same time.

That first year, you didn't know what you were doing. Sure, people told you that you needed to "pay-in" taxes, but you didn't know what that meant. You were as green as they come. And because you f*cked up that first year, you now feel like you might never catch up. And you know what? You might not. You might have a tax bill every single year for the rest of your life that you will have to pay on an installment plan. But you know what? That's OK, too. It turns out that a lot of people pay taxes this way. I mean, come on. Look at all of the celebrities that owe ridiculous amounts of money to the IRS. Just think of yourself as a celebrity. But not Lindsay Lohan. Never LiLo.

But seriously, even though you've been playing it cool for the last few weeks, I know the fear of the Tax Man Appointment has been bothering you. I know you wish you could get a large sum of cash, pay it all off, and be done with it. That's how you would have done it in the past. In the past, you did not have Raging Debt. But the past is never coming back. Those glory days? They're done. At least for now. This is life now. And it's not just you. You are not alone in this particular area of your life. There are people who live in tent cities. There are three generations of families living in the same home. And everyone you know who owns property now most likely has an upside-down mortgage. Or an upside-down SUV. Or an upside-down job.

All of these realizations are quite depressing, yes. But they also mean that it's NOT OK for you to sit around and beat yourself up about your tax debt when you get home after the appointment. You can cry a little bit if you want, but just for a bit. It's OK to be sad and mourn the loss of debt-free living, but then you must internalize the fact that everyone has something. Taxes are your something.

But you should be proud that you've worked on them. You pay the installment plan each month. You pay extra whenever you can. And this year you even attempted to pay-in taxes, but it didn't work and then you forgot, but at least you tried. And you DID pay-in a little bit toward your Iowa taxes, so that should keep the fees down a bit. Next year, you'll do better to pay-in. And, little by little, you'll chip away at the tax debt over the years. And then, maybe one day, you'll get some job that will take out your taxes for you. Wait. Baby steps. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. For today, let's just say that you will keep trying. That's all the IRS wants. That's what they tell you to your face whenever you go to their Omaha office shaking like a leaf. Just keep trying. If you try, we will work with you.

Your appointment is in 45 minutes. It's time to find that receipt for the new iMac so you can at least write that off. And each bill you pay for working from home, so you can write off a little bit of those, too. And your health care bill. Yes, you can write that off, too. You can do this, girl.

In a few hours, the great Tax Appointment of 2012 will be over. The waiting game will be finished. You will know the damage, and you will do your best to figure out what you can pay now and what must be added to your tab. It's going to be scary. It's going to suck. But you know what will Not Help? Sitting around festering about it for weeks or months. Worrying does not make it better. It only makes you sick and sleepless. If you worry long enough, will the tax debt go away? No. So you have to think of a different action plan. Keep working, spend some quality time with friends, and remember to have compassion for yourself. That was Shrinky's key word with you for you to work on when you left her all those years ago and came back to Farmsville -- compassion.

Pat yourself on the back. You've made it through another year of freelancing and survived. You still have a roof over your head, clothes to wear, and food for your kittehs. It could be much, much worse. And you're still trying. That's all that matters. Just try.

OK, go get 'em, Tiger.

Love,

Blondie

Eyewear Babble

Yesterday, I went to get new glasses. It's been three years since I've last had an eye appointment. The night before, the nose pad fell off of my glasses, so they dug into my face and I had to put a little piece of toilet paper in between my nose and the glasses -- HAWTNESS. Luckily, I had my handy prescription sunglasses that I could wear while driving. Me? I rule. In dorkiness.

My glasses place of choice is Sam's Club. Even though I don't have a membership, it's illegal to not let me into the optical area for medical reasons or something, so I walk in there like I own the place whenever I need something eyeball-related. This time, I decided that I am going to get regular eyeglasses, an update to my prescription sunglasses, and contacts.

*record screeches*

Contacts? Really? Yes, really.

The problem with wearing glasses for many years is that people forget what you look like without them. And then you look funny -- maybe even kinda ugly -- without them. It's true. Even I think glasses-wearers look bizarre without their glasses the first few times I see them. So what the h*ll am I going to look like sans eyewear? I'm going to look weird. For a long time. In fact, I don't even remember the last time I wore contacts. I most likely dug out an outdated, old pair for someone's wedding once, but I'm pretty sure it's been over 10 years since my face was naked.

I started wearing glasses all the time because I worked in the publishing industry and that meant lots of paper. Paper dries out the eyes like nothing else. After flipping through a few thousand pages (and I'm not even exaggerating there -- I make teacher textbooks, after all) my eyeballs were red and itchy and puffy. Gross. Glasses were just easier, so I went with them. Eventually, I was smart enough to get prescription sunglasses back in 2009, so now I can flip between them. But I still live with the following problems:

• When I used to go swimming for exercise at the gym, I couldn't see anything. This is part of the reason why I don't go swimming anymore.
• When I'm in the shower, in bed, or flipping up my sunglasses to avoid looking like the Unibomber when I buy something at the gas station, I can't see anything.
• When I'm lying down, I have to take my glasses off to read because they dork up against the pillow.
• Basically, lying on my side at all with glasses is a huge headache, and I prefer to lie on my side.
• Going inside from outside will fog up my glasses in the winter AND in the summer. 
• If it's raining, I can't see anything.

But I also have another reason that might seem kind of odd. I hide behind my glasses. I have for a long time. It used to be my hair. Back in high school, I would make this big, curly claw bang thing and have it right next to my face to keep people from looking directly AT me. And I think that it's transferred to my eyewear. They are a shield against the world. They mean I don't have to get too close. The allow me to stay within a certain boundary when I'm talking to others.

And you thought they just helped me SEE and sh*t.

The other day, I was in the movie store with my sunglasses propped up on my head when I ran into someone I've known my whole life. I didn't recognize him at first because he was blurry. Then we chatted about the whole glasses concept and I told him I was thinking about getting contacts again.

Me: Well, it's because of...

Him: ... vanity?

Oh, silly people. You say things as a joke or something and then they get all stuck in my head and I can't let go of them.

So I've been wondering -- am I vain? Do I think my eyes are beautiful and that the world needs to see them? Do I think I will attract more men if my eyeballs are showing? I don't know. Those are good questions. I think it's actually going to be hard work to wear contacts. You need more eye makeup when you're wearing contacts or else your eyes can actually disappear. My face might look like a house without walls without my glasses. Will that make me prettier?

After asking a few trusted confidants (cough, my parents) if I am a vain person, I was assured that vanity is not one of my main characteristics. But I do have to admit that I'm curious about how people will respond to me when I look different. Once they get over the weirdness/ugliness of the open face, will I become more beautiful? And will I learn how to stop hiding behind hair and eyewear to accept myself just as I am?

Things I Know For Sure:

• Contacts are expensive, so if they aren't worth it, f*ck it.
• The "trial" pair I got is not strong enough in one eye, so I might not be able to see clearly when I do put them in. Oh, the irony.
• I will no doubt push up my phantom glasses on my face whenever I'm not wearing them. 

We'll see. This will all be an interesting experiment. When I get my new glasses, I will take some with/without photos and plop them up here to see what you think. For now, me and my old, crummy glasses will enjoy the replacement nosepads.

Renewal

Last Friday, I went to see Featherplume, her husband Egg, Wee Plume (daughter) and... well, Wee-er Plume, who is her new son. I got to snuggle a newborn, which is one of the things that makes life most grand. I also got to give the newborn back, which is kind of nice, too. No dirty diapers for this gal! But seriously, I had a fantastic time. Featherplume made lasagna with a homemade sauce that was to die for, and since Egg recently turned 35, I even got to eat chocolate birthday cake. It was a fantastic night.

One of the things I really like about both Featherplume and Egg is that they are both fans of science fiction. We sat on the couches and chatted about BOOKS for hours. Every so often, one of them would go to the shelves and pull something out for me to look at. They don't have a television in their living room, so it was just us, the kids, dreamy lighting, an open window, and classical music I could barely hear on the radio. No cell phones. No computers. Just friends, food, and conversation. It was a very Zen kind of night. Even though there was a toddler in the house, you would have never noticed (except for her singing and talking to herself in this really funny, cute way). Sometimes, when I visit people who have children, I feel overwhelmed by the kidness. This time, I felt more immersed in the setting -- less of an "outsider." And the fact that I've known the couple since we were in college means there were funny stories and we LAUGHED AND LAUGHED. I remember just writing recently on this blog that I needed to have a good belly-laugh. I got one.

On the drive home, I reflected on all I had talked about and experienced that night. I felt really good about one thing in particular. Back when we all lived in Chicago, I had a wicked case of Marriage Fever right about the time that Buttercup and Featherplume got engaged. This lasted for quite a while after my relationship ended, so that even when I saw the girls right after they had their first babies, I was still feeling Less Than and Far Behind and Very Sad. I still get these feelings today, but my button about it gets pushed by far different experiences and people. I no longer feel Tarnished and Jealous when I see Featherplume, and I know I wouldn't if I saw Buttercup, either. Instead, I've learned how to feel genuinely happy for my friends and the beautiful lives they've created. As I watched Featherplume look at her children -- really look at them and study them with this intense love flowing out of her -- I felt at peace. In a former life, I would have been riddled with jealously and hurt. I want that. How come I don't get that? But this time, I only felt pride. Look at my girl. She is such a good momma. What lucky children.

One of the topics we discussed was the fact that because I am alone so much, I have too much time on my hands to THINK. I'm incessantly judging myself and getting stuck on a hamster wheel of unhealthy thoughts. I'm doing better at recognizing/blocking them, but they are always there -- lurking. And then when I have a stretch of time and don't see other people for a few days, I get sucked into my own brain like a raging, evil narcissist. Instead of calling me crazy or telling me I need therapy, Featherplume agreed that I can get into tricky situations. Oh yes. I can see how that would happen. No judgment. No "you shoulds." She gently encouraged me to go to the painting group I told her about, but she didn't rain down on me with the Things I Should Be Doing, which (if you can't tell) a lot of people in my everyday life do. Which also (if you still can't tell) really annoys me.

After my big break up in Chicago, I was a nightmare. Oh yes, I was. I was a walking, talking, bawling trainwreck. To this day, I'm still surprised that there are some people who stuck it out with me and stayed my friend during that Very Dark Time. It's not easy to be friends with someone who goes through something awful. I know. I've been on the other side of it. I've been all -- Oh my GAWD if she calls me crying one more time I'm going to DIE. But when you go through hard times together and still come out on the other end laughing, that's how you know you have a real friend. Featherplume and I have been through some wonk stuff together. And then we've had a lot of good moments like this -- simple, fun nights where we are simply enjoying each other's company. Now I just need to get my lazy a$$ up to see her more than twice a year. But WAIT -- no judgie. Not right now. Right now I'm feeling good.

My visit with Featherplume coincided with my parents going out of town to babysit Little, so I had even more free time than I normally do. I decided to distract myself from my own brain with movies, cross stitching, going out for drinks with my local friends, and reading. It was a nice weekend, so I even got to open the windows for a bit. Then I decided to Not Work, which I usually do constantly, including on the weekends. What is this? I feel... relaxed. Tired. Cozy? Content? Yes, I do. I decided to leave my home computer OFF for days. No email. No blogging. I was off the grid. Ahhhhh. And then yesterday, I cleaned my entire kitchen top to bottom and scrubbed it in a way it hasn't been scrubbed in months. I got down on the floor and battled the bottom of the fridge. I threw away a bunch of crap I don't use that I never will. Now, my kitchen is a shining beacon of light. Literally. It actually hurt my eyes when I walked into it this morning because it's all white and the sun was glinting off the counter tops. Purty.

Being around Featherplume always reminds me of who I was long ago, who I am now, and who I can be in the future. She inspires me and makes me want to Do Things and Live Better. And even though our lives are very different, I'm taking internal notes about parenting from her just in case I need them in the future. But mostly, I'm just enjoying my friend. A simple dinner date revived my crusty, black heart. Thank you, Featherplume. I really needed that.

What Is the New American Dream?

I had a really nice talk with my father last night. We had a date because Ma had her women's group meeting. We watched two episodes of Walking Dead, I did laundry, and then we discussed Lucifer's Hammer because I finished it up and had to share all of the similarities/differences between the book and Walking Dead. End of the world scenarios can overlap or go in totally different directions. It's very interesting.

But after we chatted about fiction for a while, I confessed to my father that I needed some help in the nonfiction realm. Basically, I explained that everything around me seems to be turning to sh*t, and I'm struggling to find positivity or hope in the world. I am jealous that when he was my age, the American Dream was alive and well. There was the promise of good jobs, pensions, Social Security, retirement, houses, investments. Those kinds of things.

In my early 20s, I had a great job that gave me huge bonuses, profit sharing, and the company itself was run by people who were perfectionists AND really, truly, honestly cared about their products and their employees. I knew at the time that I worked for an anomaly. That I was lucky to enjoy my work when so many others had disastrous workplaces. I knew that if I kept working hard and proving myself, I could keep taking care of myself in better ways. I could afford to pay rent, purchase a vehicle, put furniture in my apartment, and actually have a savings account. And I knew that it would only get better in the future because I would work hard and be rewarded for that hard work, dedication, and loyalty. But then it all fell apart. Goodbye bonuses. Goodbye profit sharing. Goodbye wonderful bosses. Goodbye housing market. Goodbye banks. Goodbye retirement accounts. Goodbye plants and jobs and white picket fences. Goodbye economy. And a lot of the time, it seems like the good things are never ever going to come back.

I looked at my father with some desperation and asked him: "Is the world ever going to be good again?" I needed guidance from an elder. Someone who had seen a lot, understands what is going on now, and is able to make predictions based on personal knowledge and experience. He told me that the economy is cyclical. That it will always change, even if it takes a really long time. He told me it would get better. What our country needs, or perhaps world needs, is one really good leader. I wish we could find that person.

When my father was younger than I am now, he had a job at a place that eventually made some of the parts that we went to the moon with. It was a time of hope, promise, and amazing adventures. It seems to me that my parents were raised with hope and prospects that I don't have -- those Social Security benefits (which I'm convinced will be GONE by the time I'm their age), mortgages that you could pay off realistically in 15 years, and a very real notion that if you went to college, you'd get a great job on the other end. It's sad to me that there is no formula for my generation right now. The old math doesn't work anymore. X + Y used to equal Z, but now it breaks the calculator. How are people my age supposed to strive forward and dream big when everything is such a nightmare? And don't even get me started about politics. The politicians? They are killing me.

I read a lot about the old-school immigrant experience for work. I'm so proud of the immigrants from the past. They had the right formula. Hard work meant success, property, and power. And then when they did make a boatload of money and took care of their families, they created libraries, trusts, and a whole host of other philanthropic opportunities for generations to come. Yes, they struggled in ways I will never even dream of, but they knew or at least believed that they could make it. I am a realist. I don't really see "making it" in my future. I see a long life of hard work, debt, and struggling. I don't want to be so negative. I don't want to be Debbie Downer. But I'm not alone in the way I see the world. Just watch the nightly news.

So as a person who struggles with anxiety and depression, the world can seem like a big, ugly bully to me a lot. Pa and I discussed how it's my job to make sure that I'm OK no matter what is happening around me. I have to find hobbies I like, people I want to hang out with, and events that bring some sparkle. I've been working on this, and it's been going really well. I'm forcing new pathways of positive thinking through my dusty, crusty black brain. I'm getting there. But I still wish there were some clear, shiny, honest promises for my future -- and the generations below me. What is the new definition of the American Dream?

The original American Dream definition comes from a man named James Truslow Adams. In 1931, he wrote: 

[The American dream is] "that dream of a land in which life should be better and richer and fuller for everyone, with opportunity for each according to ability or achievement."

I think it's time to redefine it. Perhaps if I expected less, I wouldn't be so gloomy about the lack of the better and richer and fuller life. I've never needed a mansion. It's not about having a bunch of money or even the property. I just need some hope. I would like that opportunity.

For My International Readers

My sister asked me for this picture of the flying monkeys from The Wizard of Oz movie yesterday, and even though I was too late getting it to her for her purpose, here it is anyway. TINY FLYING MONKEYS! Enjoy.

I have a lot of international readers. Sometimes, I think more people abroad read my blog than people here in the US. The fun thing about international readers is that they share their own life experiences with me through the comments or in private emails, and we can compare our countries. I've learned a lot more about other countries in the last few years of blogging than I have in my entire career of English as a Second Language publishing. Because when you're writing books for kids? You don't learn about things like health care, dating "rules," or vacation time. Real life is much different than your basic nonfiction article about the foods and culture of Costa Rica.

Anyway, every so often, one of my international readers has a question about why I am doing/not doing something. Yesterday, I got a comment from Rosa, who lives in Europe. I was really interested in her comment from my post, so I thought I'd respond to her here instead of in the comment section because I would have rambled on for a really long time. Also, this might lead to other interesting conversations, which is always awesome.

Rosa explained that we have similar lives -- she also lives alone, freelances, and lives in a small town near her parents. Here is the part of her comment that has the question: 

"Now that I'm single, I'm trying to see the benefits of the freedom I have, (I also work freelance) and I'm planning on saving up to do some travel, meet people and generally do the things that married people with kids might find difficult. I guess I'm rambling on like this because as I've been reading your blog I've been getting more and more curious about your decisions for your current living situation. Feel free to tell me to f*ck off if this is too presumptuous, but I just find it a bit baffling that someone as young, intelligent and attractive as you appear to be is living this often-feeling-lonely life, in a small town, working alone, and not travelling or taking advantage of some of the things a lot of tired, stressed married people with kids would kill to be able to do (please bear in mind that I'm commenting on this because I have the same tendencies myself). I know financial security is an issue, and also I'm in Europe so the pressures to be 'grown up' in your thirties might be different, and we also don't have the same heavy responsibilities with health insurance and things like that. I too am very attached to my family. But I know they will still be there in six months if I travel/work elsewhere for a while. And being freelance means I'm free to visit them for extended periods and work from there. And I would probably kick myself in twenty years for not grabbing more opportunities while I was young. There are plenty of opportunities to live a quiet rural life when I'm older. I will shut up now, as it's pretty late here and I'm exhausted-rambling. I just hope you're not punishing yourself for some reason. Or waiting for life to come to you. Because I know that's what I often do. I really hope this doesn't come off as rude. If it does, I apologise, that is really not how it's meant."

First and foremost, I do NOT think Rosa is being presumptuous or nosy or rude or any of those things. I write on this blog as a journal, and I usually assume that no one is reading it. That being said, when I do get comments, they make me think in new ways, so I always take them in and really think about them. Which is why, Rosa, I'm taking this time to answer you in the blog. I'm sure you might be surprised that I'm throwing your comment up and answering you this way, and I also hope it doesn't freak you out. In fact, I think if you lived here, we could be besties and hang out and travel together. For reals. It would RULE.

Now, on to the differences between the US and the Rest of the World...

In the US, work is the big thing. You're looked down upon if you don't have a job. It's like you're not a real person. In fact, being a freelancer kind of makes me half a person to a lot of people who don't understand what I do. They think I don't have a "real job." It would make them much more comfortable if I worked in an office and had a commute. Sadly, work in the US is a competition. The more you work, the "better" you are. So if you take more than one or two vacations a year, you're looked down upon. People assume you are flighty, wasteful, not serious, or incredibly rich and therefore don't understand Real Life. Sad but true.

If I didn't have a home base to work from, employers would probably not be interested in hiring me for a project. I've worked on projects for over a year at at time and need a place where companies can mail supplies, call me, or have me travel to them from. They would be incredibly suspicious if I started moving around all the time -- even if I did my work perfectly and on time. In fact, it's difficult to get freelance work here to begin with if you don't live in the same city as the company. I'm still somewhat amazed that I'm able to do any work at all from Farmsville. Luckily, I had a good client base before I moved home or it never would have worked out.

People here complain about their jobs and how hard they work ALL THE TIME. It's like a national pastime. I do it, too. But trying to get them to quit and get a different job? Forget it. It's really hard to explain, but people in the US tend to love their tortured work lives. Now that I've said that, some USers might come on here and say, "That's not true!" But it is. If they think about all of their coworkers, they'll realize it is. So, traveling around while I don't have a "real job" would be difficult for me. And I'm not really sure how I would do that because I need "supplies" to do my job, such as large textbooks and things that wouldn't travel well. Also, I personally HATE hotel rooms. US hotel rooms creep me out. I've gathered from my studies and from my bloggie friends that "holidays" in other countries are much more acceptable/standard. I wish that was true in the US. I wish we were more relaxed about work. Sadly, you kind of get chained to your job here because...

Health insurance. You said it right there in your comment. It's true that health insurance is a MONSTER here in the US. I'm SO jealous of my friends abroad who don't have to deal with this disaster. In fact, I just got a notice in the mail that my health insurance will now be exactly $14 less than my rent each month. In just a short amount of time, it will cost more than my rent. And you can't NOT have health insurance here or you end up with a $60,000 bill when you slip on the ice and break your arm. It's insane. Mark my words, one day health insurance will be the beginning of the next American Revolution. So yes, there's that.

Regarding adult responsibilities, people in the US tend to get married in their mid-twenties, buy homes, have children, and are POOF adults. I am "odd" because I haven't followed this path. And yes, while many of my married friends do envy my freedom, they do tell me very honestly that they would not trade places with me. Having a family unit and being "solid" is very important in our culture. It's true that times are changing, and we have a very high divorce rate. But still, if you've never been married and don't have any children by 34 (my age) and appear to not be headed anywhere near that, you are looked at with skepticism. Again, people might deny that, but it's true.

About being young, interesting, and attractive... thank you. That made me feel very good. *blushes* But here's the thing. I've lived in a few different cities, and it didn't matter how interesting or attractive I was there, either. My issues with depression and loneliness will follow me wherever I go. It's a battle I have to work on no matter where I live. And trust me, I was MUCH lonelier in Chicago than I've ever been in Farmsville. I enjoyed the perks of the big city, but I felt very isolated there. And it was SO expensive. Also, I think it's cheaper and easier to travel around in Europe. In the US, people don't travel from state to state on a regular basis. Like I said earlier, you're lucky if you get one vacation a year. Our states are gigantic and there is no generalized train system for vacationers. So if you want to go somewhere, you have to drive there or fly there (and you probably already know how much US flying SUCKS). If you drive 12 hours a day for 5 days in a row, you can get to your vacation destination, but then your vacation time is over and you've just spend money on gas and hotels to get there. So a lot of times, it's easier for Americans to just stay put. We have this handy, new thing now called Staycations, where we stay home during our vacation time.

Life in the US is starting to sound really restraining and awful to me right now. The truth hurts.

But the most serious part of Rosa's comment that is universal and doesn't really have anything to do with US/abroad countries comes right here: "I just hope you're not punishing yourself for some reason. Or waiting for life to come to you." This is the one I don't have an easy answer for. I am waiting in some way. I'm not sure what I'm waiting for. Something interesting to happen? A magical, full-time remote job to land in my lap? Mr. Right? To win the lottery? I don't know.

I do know that I'm not punishing myself. In fact, moving back home was a gift to myself -- a reward. I went out into the world and lived and worked and explored, and then I got tired and wanted to come home. I craved the easy life. I was ready for it -- I wanted it. So living here for me is a gift. But the waiting thing? You've got me there. There is something inside of me that is waiting. I'm still waiting to own my own home. I'm waiting for the moment I get caught up on my bill with the Tax Man. I'm waiting for the day I can feel like "oh yes, THIS is my life."

For me, the 20s was about exploration. The 30s has been about introspection. Perhaps my 40s will be the end of the Great Wait. Maybe by then I will have figured it all out? I hope so.

But you, dear Rosa, you must decide what you want to do. It sounds like you are on the right track. If you are worried that you are missing out on opportunities, yes, go get them. I would be very disappointed in myself and would live with a LOT of regret if I had never lived in Oregon or Chicago. And, like many people who have never left Farmsville (who I encounter every day), I would feel resentful and angry if I had somehow become "stuck" here and never escaped to follow my dreams.

But I did escape. I did follow those dreams. And I learned many important lessons. One that I keep close to my heart whenever I think about "escaping" again is that life is pretty much the same in any place you live once the newness wears off. You still have to work, go to the grocery store, do your laundry, feed your cats, and maintain personal and work relationships. Certainly the scenery might change, but inside, you're still the same. That is NOT a bad thing, it just keeps me from running over and over again. My therapist taught me that I can run all I want, but I'll always catch up with myself.

I'm not exactly sure how to finish this post. Thank you, Rosa, for giving me a lot to think about. I do want to travel, so I have my very first big vacation coming up this year. I do want to stop waiting, so I'm going to keep working on that. The first step is to get myself out of the house more, so I will. And while I'm out, I'll keep my eyes open for whatever opportunities might be lurking in the shadows.

The Secrets of Living Alone

A while back, I read a New York Times article called One Is the Quirkiest Number: The Freedom, and Perils, of Living Alone. It's a fascinating read that gives away all of the solo-living secrets. We do strange things when no one else is around. Oh, yes we do. I read the article with wonder -- what are other people like who live alone? But I also read it with a little skepticism. Dude, I'm not that weird. Come on!

But because solo-quirkiness was brought to my attention, I have been observing some of the odd things I do simply because no one else is here:

• I tend to not eat "real food" or "real meals." When I'm busy, a sleeve of crackers can serve as lunch during a busy work day.
• I have a strange obsession with when the blinds come open and when they are shut.
• I can, in fact, go for days wearing the exact same clothes to save on laundry time and shampoo money because I figure no one is going to see me anyway.
• I keep a large range of artifacts on the side table next to my couch spot that do not belong in anyone's living room... but I guess they do in mine.
• I no longer decorate for any holidays, not even a simple Christmas stocking. I don't see the point. 
• I HATE having a television on for no reason, so my house is usually dead silent with only the sound of Webster's nose whistle or a ticking clock. But when I am cleaning or getting ready to go somewhere, I have to listen to Investigation Discovery. Me and ID? We're like *this*.

There are a few other random things I've noticed about myself, but they are too embarrassing to share. I need to keep some mystery going, don't I?

*snickers*

I recently received a review copy of Going Solo: The Extraordinary Rise and Surprising Appeal of Living Alone by Eric Klinenberg. This post is NOT my review of the book. I've been having trouble getting into the book because I started reading it on a really crabby, lonely day and immediately had to put it down. Like all good nonfiction books, Going Solo has to give a little background information on the topic right at the beginning. So the first bit shared the historical perspective of solo-livers, which was NOT at all positive. The solo people? They were "crazy" way back when. I haven't gotten to the "rise" and "appeal" yet. It's my goal to give the book another shot this week and find out more about modern singletons. But in the past? Yeah, they were outcasts.

It never feels good to read about "yourself" in such a negative way. While I do know that, obviously, the amount of single people in this country has skyrocketed and the majority of people are figuring out that it's better to live alone than it is with a.) a miserable spouse or b.) a miserable roommate, it's still discomforting to have a spotlight trained on my lifestyle. I also am one of the very few people that I know in my area who lives alone. In fact, now that I think about it, I didn't have any friends who lived alone in Chicago, either. Or in Portland. I knew a couple of singletons in Iowa City, but most of the people there went through like 100 roommates (including myself) before we embarked on solo living. What I've learned about being a single adult is that most people can't handle living alone. Financially, life was GRAND when I lived with my ex-boyfriend. Having all of your expenses halved is a nice thing, indeed. And you know what else is nice? Coming home to dinner waiting on the table. Oh, those were the days.

Perhaps my biggest personal quirk that I don't like about myself is how easily I can let my home turn into a total disaster. I was much better at cleaning my apartment when I worked outside of the home. Here, I tend to keep working instead of "going home." I look at a pile of mail so long that I no longer even see it. I let things pile up because I get too tired and lazy to do a deep clean. I would LURVE to have a housekeeper come over for just one day and whip Farmhouse Villa into shape. My Chicago apartment was MUCH cleaner than my farmhouse ever has been. Right now, I feel like I would need to take a week off work to get this place sparkling clean. And even though my mother offers to come over and help me clean once in a while, I always turn her down. Much like the people on hoarders, I don't want people to see the evidence of my cracker-lunch or the endless amount of cat toys that are strewn all over the place. And don't even get me STARTED on the clothing pile in my bedroom. I do own hampers, I just don't know how to use them.

When I was living in Iowa City, I decided that for my senior year I wanted to live alone. I'd had a bunch of roomies, and I wanted to experiment. At the time, I was planning on moving to Oregon alone, so I wanted to try it out in a comfortable place to see what it felt like. I loved it. The freedom! The lack of other peoples' issues! It was spectacular! But then many, many years went by when I lived alone or with others, and the appeal of living alone started to wane. It would be nice to have a home filled with another person's energy. But it's too late now to go back to having 4 roommates at a time. Those experiences are for youth. It's too awkward as an adult to live with a herd. I know it's never too late to live with a boyfriend or a husband, but it's too late for me to live with a woman or a man just to split the cable bill. Which is why I have a "spare bedroom" that is more like a storage unit.

But now that I've been sharing my deep, dark secret about how freakin' MESSY my house is, I am a little inspired to clean it. Baby steps. One room at a time, right? I think what I really need to do is go through my home and throw away anything I haven't used in a few years. I have a bunch of "stuff" that gets stored in awkward locations because I don't have a lot of closet/cupboard/drawer space. And my extreme attachment to inanimate objects or pairs of jeans from two sizes ago can stop. I must de-clutter. Perhaps that will make me feel happier about my singledom. Look at my awesome living space. I rule. Maybe. Maybe not.

When You Can't Find Your Own Happy Place

I realized the other day that it's been a while since I've done Something Fun. I've been doing a lot of little things for myself, such as cross stitching, but I haven't Been Somewhere or Laughed Really Hard for quite a while. Much as I can tell that the Corolla is sluggish when she's almost all the way out of gas (I let the tank go allll the way empty, yes I do), I can also tell when I haven't been having enough fun. I get overly cranky, easily bored, and extremely twitchy. I am like that right now.

My painting class was perfect. It was a great way to force myself away from my work and detox from my life. I really miss it. Luckily, I think I have found a solution. It turns out my teacher has a studio, and she offers painting get-togethers. I think I'm going to investigate those soon. I'm also slowly allowing myself to plan for spring. I can't get too excited about it right now because I know for SURE that Iowa will dump at least one more blanket of snow on me before I can pull the first dead flower out of the garden. But I am thinking about the flowerbed little by little. I think I'm going to pull a change-up on the flowerbed this year. It takes too many beatings from the summer storms. Delicate flowers in that area are not meant to be, and it's time to acknowledge it. So yes, I can think about spring.

But none of these little plans are a solution for the day-to-day boredom I'm experiencing right now. Now that my back is feeling better (SO MUCH BETTER -- I even stopped going to PT), I'm craving activity and FUN. I want to laugh really hard. I want to be ridiculously joyful. Just for a little while. Just for a day or even just an evening?

My dear friend Sassymonkey sent me a tweet of this picture of us today from my sister's Flickr stream:

We are at BlogHer '09 in Chicago. I tend to hate looking at pictures of myself. My first instinct is always to criticize. Why were pregnancy shirts so popular for non-preggo people back then? Why didn't I do my hair the WHOLE time I was at the conference? Dude, I was like 15 pounds heavier in that picture. Oof. 

But this time when I looked at the photo, the negative thoughts were NOT the first thing that crossed my mind. Instead I thought: Look at how happy I look! I can see it in my eyes -- I'm genuinely joyful. Sassy looks happy, too. I wonder what we were talking about? Who knows. But we sure look happy.

I need to get to that place in my mind again -- even if it's just for a little while. I am content right now. Not miserable. Not on a downswing of depression. Just bored. Day in day out bored. I'm reading interesting books and working on interesting projects, but I'm certainly not emitting Happy to everyone who sees me. In fact, lately it seems like when I run into people I know well, they aren't even happy to see me. Friends = I'm Doing It Wrong.

I was going to do Something Fun this weekend, but I couldn't figure out what to do or where to go. I stayed in last night and watched movies on the DVR. Tonight I have a cousin-kiddo birthday party. Tomorrow will be cleaning, garbage-taking-out, laundry, a little work, and dinner with the Nerds. It will be nice and relaxing and will make me content, but still... Can I get some Ridiculously Happy in there? I hope so. If you build it, they will come. I'll work on it.