December 7, 2007
I shall sally forth to contend with the all day private family memorial services, hoping that I don’t infect anyone else with my cold . I get the impression from BoyDucky’s harassed sounding phone calls that this moment of peace I have with you, blogger family, is the last bit of quiet I’ll be having for the rest of the day.
Wish me luck!
November 30, 2007
Not just one.
I left work on Wednesday at noon to go support BoyDucky and his family. Their father was failing, and he was at the hospital alone.
They made the decision to let him go that night. His condition was drastically worse, and he was in pain.
We stayed by his side all night, on pain medications, until he passed just before midnight. I stayed with the family for the next eight hours in a Buddhist prayer chant to send him on his way. Mom, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends held vigil for him until 8 am.
This is all very bare bones because I’m still in shock right now. I’m in shock because after 24 hours of overwhelming grief, having to see the family’s faces contorted with pain, we hadn’t experienced the worst.
Less than twelve hours after BoyDucky’s father passed, his cousin, our friend, A, left the hospital to let their dog out and run errands for BoyDucky’s mother.
We found out at 2pm that he was involved in a fatal car accident. He’d fallen asleep at the wheel and drifted into a parked semi on the side of the road.
BoyDucky and I had to find, wake up, and break the news to his mother and that was the single most horrific thing I’ve ever done in my life.
A would be characterized by many people as a good friend, a good son, a good brother, and a good person. He could have been defined as responsible, caring, compassionate, selfless, patient beyond belief and genuine. He would be defined that way, by other people. But for me, he defined those values. He was the example against which I held up others who aspired to be responsible, caring, compassionate, strong, and genuinely good to others. On a good day, I could have been an “A”. I wouldn’t count on it, ’cause he was so damn good at being good, but if I could be like him, that was compliment enough.
A was a rock. A solid, young man, the eldest son, and the best son his mother could ask for. He was the best cousin BoyDucky could have, and a wonderful friend. I’m grateful for the time I had with him, and I miss him.
There are two gaping holes in my heart right now, and I may not be blogging for a while.
November 27, 2007
This is why I can’t have nice things, Part II.
Last week, possessed by who-knows-what, I took off my sterling silver Elsa Peretti starfish necklace because I was wearing gold earrings, and stowed it NOT in my purse or a safe, zipped, safeguarded pocket of any sort. Since the past 4-5 days have been such a harried blur, I just cannot remember where I put it. Days later, walking around with the phantom feeling of the necklace resting in the hollow of my throat, I finally realized that I’d never put it back on. It felt like it was with me this whole time, but it hasn’t been! In fact, I’d stripped off all my other jewelry days ago, returning to my normal, jewelry-free state, and I have NO IDEA what happened!
I am, to be blunt, freaking out. The necklace was a birthday gift from BoyDucky years ago. How could I be so careless? It was a cherished gift that he picked for me, thinking of how I would never ever be so extravagant as to ask for or pick out anything from Tiffany & Co., and knowing that if I were to want something, it would be something other than the ubiquitous, generic heart design that every boy picks for his girl. This despite my never wearing any jewelry for him to base his selection on. He’s good, that one. Starfish was special. And now, after days of never touching hand to heart, I can’t stop placing my hand over where Starfish would form a comforting imprint in my palm, wishing and hoping that it’d materialize.
November 6, 2007
Every time I use an ATM, I always have this almost irrational need to position myself in such a way that people behind me can’t see the screen. With a screen that shows all of the accounts to pick from, with the account numbers and account balances for each, and because all the savings accounts have between three and four digit balances, it’s always seemed wise to try and keep the screen covered up. Of course I look like a twitchy spaz when there’s more than one person behind me, and even worse when the people waiting are spread out to the right and left of me. I’m sure I make them nervous with the neurotic glances over my shoulder and such.
BoyDucky went with me to the ATM yesterday and noticed something, “You know, I’m standing right next to you and can’t see anything.” Intrigued, I looked at the screen from his angle: nothing. I looked at it from the opposite angle: still nothing! Wow, I’ve been a total dork at the ATM this whole time for nothing!
Then, he experimentally leaned over: “I can’t see anything from this angle … this angle … not unless I’m looking straight on … ” at which point he caught sight of my Expenses account balance: “and just from that one second, I can see you have FIVE TIMES more money in your checking account than I do!” *chagrin*
LOL, silly BoyDucky, that’s not my checking account, that’s my Expenses account for the year. I have $13 in checking; I’d never keep that much money in my checking account, it earns so little interest!
He takes this as proof that I’m a better money manager than he. If I am, it’s because I know better than to keep a lot of money in a low-interest bearing account, not because I have much 🙂
November 1, 2007
While mulling over the car repair options on the way to train station, I was struck by a realization: I’m 25. I can now rent a car without paying a supplemental fee!
I think that, and a looming sense of deadlines, are it. That’s all we get. Happy quarter century!
One Frugal Girl and Mapgirl recently blogged about the existing and perhaps unacknowledged abundance in one’s life. They both point out that clothing that’s hidden or stashed is a waste of money if you never using it; likewise with other resources like books or yarn. This is a great reminder of the WWII motto: Use it up, wear it out, make it do!
Ironically, I’m probably more in line with WWII than I am with my own generation on that regard. The ability to buy something new and not wearing it immediately was my private, adolescent idea of personal (closet) wealth. Then, as now, I only bought something new if I had to: if I had to replace something else worn and discarded, or simply couldn’t show up to another school/work event wearing the same thing I wore the last three times. But in high school, I had a girlfriend who always found the best deals, and was a nice medium-large size so she could find at least one of everything that fit her perfectly. She was the queen of buying things without ever trying them on, and so was always in possession of a surplus of lovely attire. She had a Mary Poppins closet: every time she reached in, something so new it still had tags on came out! I positively lusted after her ability to always have something new in that closet of many colors. That, back in the day, symbolized financial stability: buying things because you wanted them, not because you needed them.
Years later, that impressionable little self still wishes that I were “wealthy” enough to buy and stash clothing that’s not immediately pressed into service one I get home. Since it clashes with my need to have a perfectly honed, no-waste-here closet, and I don’t truly have the means for a cornucopia of clothing, I artificially cultivate that feeling of having, instead of needing.
The NY trip yielded the two long sleeved shirts and nice sweaters that I needed for work. I’ve defeated the purpose of having shopped specifically to fill those needs by hanging up the clothing and refusing to wear them for at least a week. Sort of a, “hah, I have new clothes but I don’t have to use them right away!” Since I’ve pruned out the old and worn clothes already, I find myself falling back on some really old stuff that probably shouldn’t be seen in public anymore (like this black shirt I’m wearing from high school), but in the meantime the shiny hasn’t been rubbed off the new stuff.
At the same time, I try to clear out my closet regularly and to root out any article of clothing or shoes languishing in the back of the closet, and that helps keep my eye “fresh.” It’s really too easy to stare at the same things, the same way, and thinking “I have nothing to wear!”
In essence, I’m prolonging the sense of newness for as long as I can. It’s a standing shopping moratorium to help combat the I-wants.
Does anyone use this sort of trick to keep themselves from overconsumption?
October 2, 2007
It’s time. It’s been months – multiple months – since my brother’s made a car payment and it’s time for me to seriously move on selling it. Our agreement, two years ago, was that so long as he continued payments for the car and insurance, he would have use of either the truck or the family sedan. He’s been using and abusing the sedan at will for the past two years, but had kept up with payments throughout that time.
Due to continued poor judgment in all aspects of his life, he’s been unable to make payments for either responsibility for some time now, and I’ve had to bear the cost of the truck payments. Well, no more. He’s been given notice that I’m going to have to sell, and doesn’t seem to care that he’s demonstrated once again that he’s still an irresponsible git who’s only around when he needs something. If there’s a lesson he shouldn’t have to learn, it’s that I don’t mess around.
It irks me that we’ll end up with the poorly maintained sedan after all this time, but there was only so much familial mediation I could deal with. This will leave us with my little sports car and a good deal of maintenance on the Camry. I need to Kelley Blue Book the truck, and then we’ll see where I go from there. This is a headache I really wasn’t in the mood for. The good thing about selling the truck is that since we’ve only used it lightly, it’s in pretty good shape.
Does anyone want a 2005 Toyota Tundra?
This website and its content are copyright of A Gai Shan Life | © A Gai Shan Life 2024. All rights reserved.
Site design by 801red