About sixteen years ago, I met him for the first time. My trainwreck sibling brought home this adorable puppy he had no business adopting because he had not one thing in his life that wasn’t a mess. I was furious at my sibling – he didn’t even take care of himself, how could he drag
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March 28, 2011
Last year, I’d started a couple SmartyPig Goals mostly to take advantage of their slightly higher than ING/Citi interest rates, and because I wanted to give their cash out options a whirl.
They offer the following withdrawal options:
A: redeem all the cash, transferring principal and interest, directly into your bank account;
B: redeem your entire goal into a gift card retailer that has partnered with SmartyPig which gives you between 2-11% cash back to your account
C: loading the cash on a SmartyPig Cash Rewards Card
D: Combination of the above.
When time came to smash open the Travel piggy bank, I did so with great aplomb recently to fund our upcoming Thailand trip.
At first, I only intended to go with Option A, but got greedy and decided to do a combination of A and B. Knowing that I may well need a new business suit in the next year or so, I “stole” $200 for Banana Republic gift cards which nets 10% cash back, and another $200 for Amazon gift cards which earned 3% cash back. Neither set of gift cards may be spent anytime soon; locking hard-earned cash into store currency is only a smart move if that currency is then combined with stellar deals when the purchase is an actual need, not just a want.
In the meantime, the cash will be paid back to the travel fund from the expense fund since we maintain a strict separation of fun and seriousity around here.
March 23, 2011
My part of Tax Season came and went with surprisingly little fanfare, after a fashion.
I used a free code for TurboTax to file my federal tax return online after finding out that there were several complications with my family’s information that has effectively left me out in the cold. I was hugely frustrated, enough so that I couldn’t even really talk about it.
It will cost a substantial refund but there is nothing to be done about it and dwelling on the lost saving or buying power does no one any good.
March 9th and 12th welcomed early, modest, refunds from both federal and state, and that whopping $700 will go toward the wedding and insurance payments, by halves.
Nothing like the lovely mistake Stacking Pennies made but survivable.
March 21, 2011
 |
The shape I might have picked (David’s Bridal),
minus the coked out look. |
The J.Crew dress has long-since been packed up and returned, a deal though it was; design properly simple and easy to handle though it should have been. (“Should have” because I still, as previously mentioned, had difficulty managing a basic zipper. User error, obviously.)
In its place, hangs a far far far fancier specimen. A proper garment, if you please. My “fittings, and tryings-ons,” were back in February, with all the grandiose moment of a new friend dropping in for twenty minutes followed by a handful of “whatcha think?” emails to a few good friends. The interested actually replied. The busy or disengaged didn’t bother. And thus, I have my wedding dress.
The story is better than that, actually.
At a dinner of PiC’s friends/coworkers, the hostess quickly judged me and said, we’re about the same size. If you don’t really care, I’ve got a dress hanging in my closet …
Two weeks later, she and her spouse dropped by with a huge foofy dress for me to try on. Lo, it pretty much fits me. It’s too long, as no four-inch heel wearer am I, but the owner is happy for me to have a seamstress take it up in length.
She also suggested taking in the sides for a more svelte look if desired if I was certain I wouldn’t put on any more weight before the wedding. But, breathing and eating are far higher on my list than looking more svelte or removing a rib to fit into a dress after alterations. I am not that bride.
It has a train. It has sparkles and ruching. It has all this other stuff I never would have picked considering the budget I was willing to pay. It literally forced me to HAVE a maid of honor instead of no one at all because I literally cannot do up the dress by myself. But it’s gorgeous in its own right, and came with the goodwill of a rather random friend of PiC’s and it was so unexpectedly pretty and lightweight to boot that I have no qualms at all about wearing this with every bit of good cheer and a bit of excitement as anything I might have picked for myself.
PLUS: That woman saved me from the jaws of dress shopping. And saved me the price of a dress on top of alterations. I could nominate her for a special kind of wedding sainthood. Instead, I think I’m going to have to dream up a wonderful thank you gift for her, starting with cooking them dinner.
So I was really happy back then. And then I let it sink in a bit, and I’m still happy about it. Not just the savings, either. The time (now to be spent trying to pick a photographer) and the money (now to clothe my groom) saved are huge, but the lack of anxiety about a subject I really don’t like: what I’m going to wear – most excellent.
Collective karmic hugs for PiC’s friend, please?
March 20, 2011
The Goal: Roli Roti Pork Sandwiches
At $8.50 for a modestly-sized Pork Porchetta Sandwich, I silently promised myself that it would be awesome. And anyway, it’s all Friend’s fault. Having emerged once again, as he does once a quarter, or something like that, from the backwoods, he craves the oddest things that mean civilization. This trip, the Sandwich was Civilization.
After queuing in the pelting rain, wandering off to examined the neighboring florist’s purple and red anemones, bulbish strawflowers, and huddling in my hood, we finally pulled up to the actual truck itself where four congenial fellows were ripping apart various pork portions, grinning at the anticipatory patrons.
One of the two check-out folk asked for our order but seemed not to know enough English to do anything with the information, having gotten it. With their severely limited menu, I wasn’t sure where I was going wrong. They only had one sandwich on the menu. Friend and I turned to each other, perplexed, “Sandwiches? Two, please? One with the cress and one with the arugula?” Still blank. One of the sandwich compilers quickly explained they were out of the cress, was the arugula alright? “Well, sure! Two of the only sandwiches you’ve got then, please!” She was still perplexed. Her compatriot took over at the point, asking what we’d like, acting as if we hadn’t just gone two complete rounds with the person two inches away. I suspect this is not an unusual situation. 😉
The sandwich was rather divine. Full of sweet and salty flavor, soft pork melted into the onion with crunchy bits, layered with the harder, more substantial slices of pork. We waited too long to eat the sandwiches so the arugula didn’t stand out against the pork, but it didn’t melt either, so it was fine. It was heaped in the right proportions into a ciabatta roll they get from the bakery inside the Ferry Building. With the harder crust, the bread doesn’t fall apart which is absolutely critical in a sandwich – I absolutely hate sandwiches and burgers where the wrapper collapses.
We took a small side of roasted potatoes as well and the rosemary salting – delicious. The potatoes were more like chunks, huge chunks. Not a problem for this potato lover.
At $20 for a lunch for two, no drinks, it’s a bit steep for lunching more frequently than as a treat but it’s absolutely worth it as a treat. Come visit me so I have an excuse to go again? 😉
March 19, 2011
It’s not going to be because of the night owl tendencies that Monday morning is going to dawn a bit more darkly than Saturday or Sunday.
Dare I cop to burnout so soon? Dare I admit that it’s been a long hard slog since landing this gig and no matter how hard I work, there’s always more piling on, more left to do, more that staff need from more, more expected of me, more, more and more?
Yes, we’ve got a vacation coming up but more often than not, the thought on my mind has been: what would I rather be doing?
And I know this has been an excellent learning experience, albeit a painful one, so it’s hard for me to say I want to do anything but this – that may just be the Tired As All Get Out speaking.
So instead, as I don’t rightly have the answer to that for myself, what would you rather be doing? Monday morning when you arise from your beauty rest, what would you ideally be getting ready to do for your daily bread?
March 18, 2011
If you give Revanche a dog,
then PiC must find a new car…
PiC might possibly be taking advantage of the situation, or he might just be reminding me of a few good points that have my head back on the desk. Either way, my nightmare of four years ago is coming back to haunt me.
We currently own my new-to-us car that we purchased in cash last year when I moved up here for a great bargain for the mileage and year. It’s a good old 4-door Acura, with seat warmers and a [crap] GPS [that I refuse to pay $100 to upgrade maps on because I cheap out on stupid things], and will last at least 150K miles. It gets excellent highway mileage, so we’ve mainly used it for our road trips back to Southern California and for my tooling around town occasionally.
He owns a 2-door car, same age, also excellent condition, that gets good gas mileage, better than mine for street driving but worse for highway, and it’s fairly non-descript so we use it to get around the city. We just don’t like driving the “nice” car into the city, it feels too flashy. The kicker here is that it’s a manual transmission which I can’t drive anymore as it causes too much pain. Aggravating as it’s limiting.
The problems are that he doesn’t want the dog in my car: the seats are leather and a dog’s claws would go through that like butter. Most importantly, we both prefer to transport dogs in kennels – it’s safer for them in case of an accident, they would be better protected and less likely to be flung out of the car and that definitely wouldn’t fit in either of our cars.
With those conclusions, he’s decided that the time may have come to sell his trusty vehicle. His choice, not mine. Mine could actually be sold for more than we bought it so I was willing, but he can’t let go of the seat warmers. 😉 Selfishly, I’m glad because I would have done it, but would have been sad to say goodbye.
PiC’s the car guy, so he’s narrowed down the options: not an SUV but it has to be something big enough for both transporting dogs and passengers. [I think… I think he thinks we’re having kids? Or something? Never mind that.] It has to be low enough for a larger dog to get into fairly easily, it has to be easy to clean, it has to be within a certain price range, not that we have actually saved for a car yet —SIGH— and **heartburn**.
He’s narrowed it down to ….. the …… how many of you guessed this?
He’s, after breaking my aesthetic heart a few times with the above, also suggested that perhaps the Pilot might be an option. Le sigh. And sigh again. A new car?
I’m not 100% convinced. While my preference is always to crate a dog in the car, I’ll have to be the first to admit that I’ve not been consistent with that in the past and it’s hard for me to commit to a new-to-us car straightaway based solely on the new dog. Seems heartless but there’s a part of me asking, now wait a minute – is this really totally necessary right now? Just because you’re getting a dog doesn’t mean you need a matching (yes I’m exaggerating about the “matching” part) car.
We’re not in agreement yet, which means I haven’t said yes yet, and he’s not stopped looking yet. It may be time to break out the negotiation dice to set parameters around when this would be reasonable.
————
The Morning After’s Important Details: I forgot to mention (thanks for reminding me Red!) that we’re not actually looking for a real new car. Just a new to us car – we only buy used. I forget to clarify that because in “our language” new = used.
And he’s looking at newer cars model year 2009 for bargains[KBB $22K+, priced at $18K+] which is why I’m so balky. I don’t want to pull that much money out at once, and really don’t want a car loan.
March 15, 2011
After much deliberation, I’ve made my decision. We’re thinking a small ceremony, very small, followed by a big casual shindiggy foody thing where the formality doesn’t matter so that plays a role in my decision as well.
PiC has four groomsmen, one of whom is his best man, and I will have a maid of honor. As such, I’m renaming it the Groom’s Party.
He doesn’t want to be imbalanced but I think it’s silly to not have his best friends stand up for him if he’s always known precisely who he wanted just because I’m lame and don’t have the numbers to “balance” them.
Besides, if the bride has 4 attendants and the groom has 1, everyone looks at the bride like she’s a high maintenance such and such. If the numbers are reversed, it’s suddenly d’awww, and neat, and that’s pretty cool. Whatever. Grooms get away with almost everything. Just go with it. Besides, *evil grin* it’ll be fun to have that weird visual dissonance, won’t it?
*****
And it’s not just because I’m lame. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking on this. Too much time, in fact. And will probably spend more time thinking about it.
It’s one of those things that seems like it should be a simple choice if it’s right. And if it’s not then I should just make the simplest choice possible because the convoluted one will probably make me and everyone around me unhappy.
For some people, I think the answer is obvious. For me, it’s just not. I can’t easily name the two, three or four closest girlfriends and ask them to do this thing *gesticulating wildly* and stand beside me on my wedding day. I have multiple small circles of friends with whom I’m very close for different reasons. How do I pick? And if I redefine “closeness” as “my go-to people” which is my practical side coming out, well, those are my dudes. That could be awkward? (Or hilarious… and their girlfriends could be annoyed.) Also, my go-to people aren’t interested in wedding planning. They’re more like go on missions to aid people/quest for food kind of people.
So then the typical construction of a bridal party might go something like this: the female siblings on either side are obligatory, cousins may be, childhood or college classmates may be. A bride may have run out of fingers on one hand and moved on to the next and that’s before she’d gotten to friends she was closest with at that point in life! There are all sorts of expectations and potential for hurt feelings and resentment wrapped up in the convention of picking the bridal party.
And in my experience, after all that spazzing over picking people to stand by your side and support you through a stressful process to get you to the wedding day, it may not quite feel worth it, having seen things from the back stage, as it were.
I’ve played the role of the bridesmaid nearly a dozen times now. My rule is if I’m your bridesmaid, you are my bride. And if you are my bride, I take care of you, along with fellow bridesmaids (is that genderist phrasing?). You are asking for support, probably two parties and maybe a silly-dress-wearing, during a time of great importance and transition in your life. We are sharing an important time in our friendship and it should be joyful. And it was awful to see other bridesmaids crap on that.
I have observed some bridesmaids choose to rant and whine behind the brides’ back when they feel inconvenienced; they choose to remain unhappy instead of being honest to resolve conflicts; they choose to be disingenuous and force the bride to try to appease them instead of dealing with whatever stressful situation is at hand. And yes, the brides know when you’re acting a fool behind their backs. They’re not idiots.
Yes, we all know of the ever-vaunted Bridezillas and I’ve backed out of bridesmaiding for Those Brides. What I don’t think people talk or know about are the bridesmaids who fail their task of just being supportive in a reasonable manner. The bridesmaids who are in it to look good in front of an audience, or for a free party and flings. There are those ‘maids and it’s not as few and far between as the “But It Wouldn’t Happen Here” crowd might think. My brides have been basically reasonable. Stressed, but reasonable. And yet, some of their attendants still found ways and means to crap on them.
I didn’t accept the job if I couldn’t observe my rule. I’d only ask the same. But when’s the last time someone was willing to be honest enough to say, “I’m sorry but I don’t think I can be your bridesmaid because I think you’re asking more than I can give?” Seriously, blunt honesty is the biggest gift you could give me during any time of stress.
While I don’t think that the people I might pick if I could pick freely would be those bridesmaids, I realize that there are other factors at play, including obligatory invites that force an unnatural dynamic and a process of picking, and not picking, that can produce unexpected results.
My conclusion then is that for a very small wedding, I don’t truly need attendants, I need one person to help me with the dress and with some preparations and emotional support, and by keeping it to one person in the actual “party”, I don’t have to juggle the rest of the politics of choice. It’s choice avoidance, in fact.
There’s a bit of me that’s sad that I won’t have a group of friends to support me throughout but being as far away as I am, perhaps I would not have really benefited from the group dynamic as much as I would have been stressed by having to be the organizer once again.
*****
My choice, then, is to simply ask one friend, my oldest friend that I’ve known for many many years though we’re not daily friends, to be there for me as my maid of honor.
She’s -surprise!- expecting. I didn’t know this when I picked her so it slightly changes things in that we couldn’t agree on what was more important.
Me: Uh, no, you and the baby are way more important! You don’t have time for this!
Her: Are you kidding? I need something to do that has nothing to do with the baby! You know I’m going to travel wherever it is no matter what, so don’t even.
Me: Ok ok ok, we’re just going to do combo everything, then.
Our agreement is this: I am asking her, as my first choice, to help me with planning the wedding if she feels up to it, as much as she feels able and to be emotional support. If, at any point, she’s overwhelmed or fatigued, she has absolute free pass to back out, she has only to tell me. She doesn’t have to make a speech if she doesn’t have to, she can wear anything she likes, anything she’s comfortable in. If the wedding is later in the year, she’ll have an infant a few months old so I have no idea how she’ll feel about clothes at that point.
For her part, she’ll help with anything she can, and if I ever feel like she’s either not “doing enough” (her words), or if the above traditionalist pressure causes problems and I have to unask her, she will completely understand and help from the sidelines or backstage. [For the record, no. Not happening. But that she would consider the possibility and offer it up? That’s a friend, right there.]
I think that’s the best compromise I could ask for. And I think I can be at peace with this Groom’s (Groomal? Groomish?) Party.
