Or possibly treading water -- I'm using an antiquated dial-up connection here. Possibly this sort of mistreatment is considered cruelty under the Geneva Convention, except even then, the actor would probably need to be a government actor, not the complainant's sweet and elderly mother who doesn't believe in paying for an Internet connection and therefore uses the unpleasant but free Juno system with dialup. Imagine my horror.
Except, I've been skating twice, skiing once, I've built a snowman, gone sledding with my four-year old, had a snowball fight with both daughters (they won, on strength of giggles alone), knitted a whole passel of Scandinavian lace*, visited with NSLOS, LOS, LOS's charming son**, cousin Elsebet (Aunt Elsebet's daughter) and her two delightful daughters, FoilMormor, and NuclearGrammy+. I helped FoilMormor make vanille kranse (yum, except TigerGrrl demolished most of them) and just started on marzipan (homemade, from almond paste) dipped in chocolate (a fun and messy activity with small children).
Of course, DestructoGirl (FoilMormor's namesake) horrified her grandmother with a truly volcanic temper trantrum (perhaps sledding for and hour and a half and then skating for two hours were just a bit much for one day) and a refusal to go to bed, at which point FoilMormor displayed the famed Maternal-Look-Of-Doom ("MLOD"), and gaze, rather like Medusa's, which I have never mastered, and DestructoGirl, for the first time in her life, just stopped, shut up, and showed just a smidge of fear. Tomorrow, I'm getting some lessons from the master. That's a skill I need.
So far, it's a great holiday. However, given the horrific nature of my Internet connection (scarier than any Friday the Thirteenth movie), I'll probably forgo further posting until my return to more southerly climes.
Happy New Year to everyone. And tomorrow night, don't do anything I wouldn't do, which directive gives you plenty of leeway for misbehavior and fun.
*Yes, you think of Scandinavian knitting as the Norwegian colored knitting, and it is that, but there's also great Danish lace. Possibly there's some nice Swedish stuff out there, but I'm not doing it: I'm Danish.
**Who recently came out of the closet, after carefully prepping his parents by telling horror stories he'd heard of families who had disowned gay children. LOS responded to all these stories by saying: "What's wrong with those parents?" After six months or so of this, he finally broached the subject.***
***LOS had carefully prepped her clueless husband -- "He's gay? Why do you think so?" (after his son had told the million and a half story of gay children rejected by moronic parents) -- so when the news finally was news to the completely unaware (the man of the house), LOS's husband had the good sense to not even react other than to say something avuncular like "Son, we just want you to be happy."
+At age 96, Nuclear Grammy took my girls to the gym in her retirement home, and they all lifted weights. True, NuclearGrammy did fairly small weights and not very high reps, but hey. I was impressed.
December 30, 2008
December 22, 2008
Vacation: The Nadir of Blogging
Or, abandon all hope, ye who enter here. I'm up near the frozen North for the next two weeks, and it is extremely unlikely that I shall post before January 5 or so. Yes, the do have computers in Northern New England, but it's highly unlikely that I will establish a relationship with some
WASP from hell computer in a mere two weeks. So you probably won't be hearing from me for the next two weeks or so. Unless I end up strangling a stewardess or something.
WASP from hell computer in a mere two weeks. So you probably won't be hearing from me for the next two weeks or so. Unless I end up strangling a stewardess or something.
December 19, 2008
Charity
How to receive holiday charity? With good cheer.
This year, I've had to ask for scholarships so that TigerGrrl can go on her class's field trips (they've been expensive). The school counselor thus put my family on the list of families that might need a little help over the holidays,* and a local organization called me and asked what my girls wanted for Christmas. Really.
I hemmed and hawed, but the NuclearGrammyMobile needed new tires and that was all my extra money for the season ($313), with no relief in sight due to TG's upcoming braces. So I said yes, and they asked me what the girls would like, what their clothing sizes were, and favorite colors. They asked me if I needed anything.
I just came back from the place, almost as nice as Ex-Marine Fred and SNV's Magic Basement** and I'm in awe. I have a big old boat of a 1990s American car (think Impala or something like it) with more trunk room than most ocean liners. It has taken me 45 minutes to unload my car. My trunk was full. The back seat was full. The passenger seat was full. Now, my kitchen counters are not visible, there is so much food on the counter, and TG and DG have more than 9 presents each, all beautfully wrapped. There were 4 presents for me, including the electric mixer (I have a blender, but that's not the same) for which I have been longing. So the girls won't notice that all their presents were handknit.
And everyone was so nice. I was expecting some one-upmanship, but they just said they wanted people to have holidays without worrying and didn't want any kids to do without. So Sunday morning, I'm going to go give platelets. And between now and then? Well, the box of Pepperidge Farm cookies might be seriously reduced. I'm in awe.
Oh, and every favorite food of the FoilKids that I listed on the questionnaire? Bought in bulk. Cheerios, Rice Krispie Bars, Pop Tarts, Doritos, Ramen Noodles, etc. Who makes people this nice? This is a life-saver this month of course. It was going to be beyond tight, and now I'll be able to manage without much worry at all.
*This is an example of why one should always live in the best school district one can possibly afford, I think.
**The basement of a couple who combined two households in the their forties/fifties, their basement has everything, and I do mean everything, a poor single mother (or her best friend) could ever conceivably need for the home.
This year, I've had to ask for scholarships so that TigerGrrl can go on her class's field trips (they've been expensive). The school counselor thus put my family on the list of families that might need a little help over the holidays,* and a local organization called me and asked what my girls wanted for Christmas. Really.
I hemmed and hawed, but the NuclearGrammyMobile needed new tires and that was all my extra money for the season ($313), with no relief in sight due to TG's upcoming braces. So I said yes, and they asked me what the girls would like, what their clothing sizes were, and favorite colors. They asked me if I needed anything.
I just came back from the place, almost as nice as Ex-Marine Fred and SNV's Magic Basement** and I'm in awe. I have a big old boat of a 1990s American car (think Impala or something like it) with more trunk room than most ocean liners. It has taken me 45 minutes to unload my car. My trunk was full. The back seat was full. The passenger seat was full. Now, my kitchen counters are not visible, there is so much food on the counter, and TG and DG have more than 9 presents each, all beautfully wrapped. There were 4 presents for me, including the electric mixer (I have a blender, but that's not the same) for which I have been longing. So the girls won't notice that all their presents were handknit.
And everyone was so nice. I was expecting some one-upmanship, but they just said they wanted people to have holidays without worrying and didn't want any kids to do without. So Sunday morning, I'm going to go give platelets. And between now and then? Well, the box of Pepperidge Farm cookies might be seriously reduced. I'm in awe.
Oh, and every favorite food of the FoilKids that I listed on the questionnaire? Bought in bulk. Cheerios, Rice Krispie Bars, Pop Tarts, Doritos, Ramen Noodles, etc. Who makes people this nice? This is a life-saver this month of course. It was going to be beyond tight, and now I'll be able to manage without much worry at all.
*This is an example of why one should always live in the best school district one can possibly afford, I think.
**The basement of a couple who combined two households in the their forties/fifties, their basement has everything, and I do mean everything, a poor single mother (or her best friend) could ever conceivably need for the home.
December 17, 2008
Mouse House
There has been construction in my complex and the mice have been on the move. Into the FoilFlat, to be precise. At first, I blamed my truly dreadful housekeeping skills, but this morning, further investigation revealed a mouse-gnawed or dug hole in the baseboard near the fireplace. The management office has descended with mousetraps (apparently, a better mousetrap has been built) and some sort of epoxy to block up the hole in the wall.
The girls, surprisingly, have been scared, not excited. I remember being thrilled at discovering bats nesting in the cathedral ceiling of the summer cottage of my childhood (my mother was less thrilled, and began a big anti-bat campaign), and I thought the girls would react in a similar way, especially as DG is a big Angelina Ballerina fan. I was hesitant to detail exactly how far the management company was prepared to go to de-mousify the house. Pretty darn far and pretty quickly, I'm pleased to say. With plans to up the ante while we are away over the holidays.
I actually think mice are cute, but I don't want to share house-room with rodents. At the same time, the idea of evicting some poor cute mouse outdoors in the wintertime seems cruel and heartless. Then I bumped into some mousescat in the kitchen (on the floor, thank heavens, but still) and decided: they're goners.
The girls, surprisingly, have been scared, not excited. I remember being thrilled at discovering bats nesting in the cathedral ceiling of the summer cottage of my childhood (my mother was less thrilled, and began a big anti-bat campaign), and I thought the girls would react in a similar way, especially as DG is a big Angelina Ballerina fan. I was hesitant to detail exactly how far the management company was prepared to go to de-mousify the house. Pretty darn far and pretty quickly, I'm pleased to say. With plans to up the ante while we are away over the holidays.
I actually think mice are cute, but I don't want to share house-room with rodents. At the same time, the idea of evicting some poor cute mouse outdoors in the wintertime seems cruel and heartless. Then I bumped into some mousescat in the kitchen (on the floor, thank heavens, but still) and decided: they're goners.
December 11, 2008
Group Dynamics
Supposedly, the ability to communicate regarding complex social relationships is a fundamental part of being human (or at least a primate), and a reason humans developed big brains and the ability to speak. In theory, one had to be able to discuss other humans' behavior and social rank and fit one's own behavior within a web of other people's behaviors and status.
I suck at this behavior. I'm a good friend one on one. In groups, I always lose the plot. I've just been sucked into a fairly small social group (new acquaintances with a common interest) and all the drama that entails (these are creative types: lots o' drama; OR, drama is us, or something like that) and I'm about to give up the creative feedback and adult human contact to avoid more discussions.
One woman, who appears to be trying to befriend me (she calls me a few times a week, and invites me out on occasion) thinks another woman in the group is making a pass at her and possibly one of the men as well. The female passmaker (FP) allegedly is in love with the befriender. Befriender finds FP actions unsettling and often calls to tell me about the latest unsettling activity. Such as inviting befriender to a Christmas party. Of course, FP has also invited me, and several other people to the Christmas party.
Every little action and word is analyzed.
And it's not just these dysfunctional two: at work, I'm hearing big discussions of "slights" that seem like normal busy people, "insults" that seem like requests to get things done on deadline or to spec (imagine that!), and many other human interactions that sound like "Please pass the butter" to me, but apparently are much more laden with meaning. The form of a request (email, phone call, in person -- if in person, did the requester go to the requestee's office or call the requestee to his or her office?) seems to matter immensely, not that fact that there are numerous deadline sensitive chores that have to be completed before year end.
I've always been award that I miss the nuance in many human relationships. This was never clearer to me than when I was twenty-three, new in DC, and listened to a then-acquaintance (long-lost) rail against another for not dressing appropriately to attend a party. Rather than be a budget issue, or simply unaware of what "casual-chic" on the invitation meant (apparently "No chinos"), inappropriate dress was an insult.
It's easier to deal with people one on one. In groups, they're just annoying. And they make me misanthropic.
I suck at this behavior. I'm a good friend one on one. In groups, I always lose the plot. I've just been sucked into a fairly small social group (new acquaintances with a common interest) and all the drama that entails (these are creative types: lots o' drama; OR, drama is us, or something like that) and I'm about to give up the creative feedback and adult human contact to avoid more discussions.
One woman, who appears to be trying to befriend me (she calls me a few times a week, and invites me out on occasion) thinks another woman in the group is making a pass at her and possibly one of the men as well. The female passmaker (FP) allegedly is in love with the befriender. Befriender finds FP actions unsettling and often calls to tell me about the latest unsettling activity. Such as inviting befriender to a Christmas party. Of course, FP has also invited me, and several other people to the Christmas party.
Every little action and word is analyzed.
And it's not just these dysfunctional two: at work, I'm hearing big discussions of "slights" that seem like normal busy people, "insults" that seem like requests to get things done on deadline or to spec (imagine that!), and many other human interactions that sound like "Please pass the butter" to me, but apparently are much more laden with meaning. The form of a request (email, phone call, in person -- if in person, did the requester go to the requestee's office or call the requestee to his or her office?) seems to matter immensely, not that fact that there are numerous deadline sensitive chores that have to be completed before year end.
I've always been award that I miss the nuance in many human relationships. This was never clearer to me than when I was twenty-three, new in DC, and listened to a then-acquaintance (long-lost) rail against another for not dressing appropriately to attend a party. Rather than be a budget issue, or simply unaware of what "casual-chic" on the invitation meant (apparently "No chinos"), inappropriate dress was an insult.
It's easier to deal with people one on one. In groups, they're just annoying. And they make me misanthropic.
December 10, 2008
Do You Hear What I Hear?
Sometimes, I think I must have supersensitive hearing, because I keep hearing other people's private conversations -- conversations any reasonably discreet person would not want a stranger overhearing.* In the last week, I've overheard, without trying to eavesdrop a whole boatload of personal data. If I were an identity thief or a blackmailer, I'd be rich.
Unfortunately, my foil superpowers only extend to making jerks stand up for the handicapped on Metro. The rest of the world, I can only write about.
I've taken to finishing up holiday presents at various museums around town. The National Portrait Gallery, the Renwick Gallery, the National Gallery ofched Art, and the Museum of the American Indian all offer free admission and have places to sit, work on knitting or crochet, and people watch.
People I have watched and overheard:
Middle-aged man trying to arrange online date for lunch: he got critical when she said she was wearing heels, and explained his shortness and pudginess. Points for honesty (he was short and pudgy)! But aside from me at a nearby seat, he was sitting having a coffee in the cafe area of the museum with a colleague who seemed a bit surprised to be an onlooker at the whole online dating drama. Could the man not step away and talk in a lower voice to line up a date?
Two pregnant women sharing pregnancy and childbirth horror stories, both discussing their birth plans: I resisted temptation and did not say "having a birth plan is like having a recipe full of ingredients you don't have in the kitchen." But it's true. Sure, you want to do it naturally -- until the first real contraction hits. Sure, you'll never have a caesarean (but if its a choice between living or dying or live or dead offspring, I'm betting most of us vote caesarean). Sure, you have your music picked out. And your spouse won't be out of town or stuck in traffic and your obgyn will be easily located and nothing whatsoever will go wrong. Everything will go according to plan. Yup, that's how it will work.
An attorney opened all his letters from court on the train. And then called his clients to give advice and discuss their cases, on the train.
A woman called T. Rowe Price to rebalance her 401(k) plan investments in the museum. I heard hear social security number and PIN. And she had several hundred thousand in the account.
A guy got dumped on the train after calling her to find out why she wasn't calling him. I could hear "It's just not working" and then, and even worse: "It's not you, it's me." There's a reason most of us make these calls privately and then retreat further to lick our wounds.
Two colleagues (male and female) discussed the woman's numerous health ailments, with the man urging her to go get the biopsy done.
One man was discussing the crudeness of youth today, with aspersions about the foul-mouthed nature of specific ethnic groups. Then the man started talking about the mail room and support staff and said "It's like they don't give a fuck about their jobs? Would it hurt them that much to get off their backsides and work a goddamn bit?"
And more, but I'm going to sleep now.
*I will say that some of what I have overheard recently is heartwarming, but most not.
Unfortunately, my foil superpowers only extend to making jerks stand up for the handicapped on Metro. The rest of the world, I can only write about.
I've taken to finishing up holiday presents at various museums around town. The National Portrait Gallery, the Renwick Gallery, the National Gallery ofched Art, and the Museum of the American Indian all offer free admission and have places to sit, work on knitting or crochet, and people watch.
People I have watched and overheard:
Middle-aged man trying to arrange online date for lunch: he got critical when she said she was wearing heels, and explained his shortness and pudginess. Points for honesty (he was short and pudgy)! But aside from me at a nearby seat, he was sitting having a coffee in the cafe area of the museum with a colleague who seemed a bit surprised to be an onlooker at the whole online dating drama. Could the man not step away and talk in a lower voice to line up a date?
Two pregnant women sharing pregnancy and childbirth horror stories, both discussing their birth plans: I resisted temptation and did not say "having a birth plan is like having a recipe full of ingredients you don't have in the kitchen." But it's true. Sure, you want to do it naturally -- until the first real contraction hits. Sure, you'll never have a caesarean (but if its a choice between living or dying or live or dead offspring, I'm betting most of us vote caesarean). Sure, you have your music picked out. And your spouse won't be out of town or stuck in traffic and your obgyn will be easily located and nothing whatsoever will go wrong. Everything will go according to plan. Yup, that's how it will work.
An attorney opened all his letters from court on the train. And then called his clients to give advice and discuss their cases, on the train.
A woman called T. Rowe Price to rebalance her 401(k) plan investments in the museum. I heard hear social security number and PIN. And she had several hundred thousand in the account.
A guy got dumped on the train after calling her to find out why she wasn't calling him. I could hear "It's just not working" and then, and even worse: "It's not you, it's me." There's a reason most of us make these calls privately and then retreat further to lick our wounds.
Two colleagues (male and female) discussed the woman's numerous health ailments, with the man urging her to go get the biopsy done.
One man was discussing the crudeness of youth today, with aspersions about the foul-mouthed nature of specific ethnic groups. Then the man started talking about the mail room and support staff and said "It's like they don't give a fuck about their jobs? Would it hurt them that much to get off their backsides and work a goddamn bit?"
And more, but I'm going to sleep now.
*I will say that some of what I have overheard recently is heartwarming, but most not.
December 7, 2008
More Rainy Day Stuff (Finance-Wise)
Well, rumors have been flying around my place of employment (and many other people's, so this isn't really anything that identifies me) of impending layoffs. I feel pretty, but not entirely, secure. However, if I'm not secure, I will be totally and utterly screwed, as I have no rainy day savings left. It's been raining for the last three years.
However, since there is nothing I can do, I'll just keep working, doing my best, and keeping my fingers crossed. Really, what else is there to do?
I do have the security of knowing that absolutely no-one else in my department (of 100+ people) or organization (or 1000+) wants to do my job or knows how. I'm one of the least fungible people around. Unfortunately, while my job is important, it's not a vital function. It's important, but not essential.
So I made presents for the Christmas gift drive at work, helped out with a fundraising Christmas craft fair (totally annoying crafts, but fun to help kids make, even if all the stuff made is deeply dorky stuff that only parents will love), and had a nice Sunday drive/lunch with Innana. Worrying won't help, and I'm pretty sure I'm safe, or as safe as anyone who isn't an ambulance driver or plumber can be.
However, since there is nothing I can do, I'll just keep working, doing my best, and keeping my fingers crossed. Really, what else is there to do?
I do have the security of knowing that absolutely no-one else in my department (of 100+ people) or organization (or 1000+) wants to do my job or knows how. I'm one of the least fungible people around. Unfortunately, while my job is important, it's not a vital function. It's important, but not essential.
So I made presents for the Christmas gift drive at work, helped out with a fundraising Christmas craft fair (totally annoying crafts, but fun to help kids make, even if all the stuff made is deeply dorky stuff that only parents will love), and had a nice Sunday drive/lunch with Innana. Worrying won't help, and I'm pretty sure I'm safe, or as safe as anyone who isn't an ambulance driver or plumber can be.
December 5, 2008
Shameless Self-Congratulation for No Apparent Reason
Yeah, it's the 5th of the month, and while my readership is not high, I've already had visitors this month from every continent except Antarctica. So, Antarctica and Greenland, you're next.
December 4, 2008
Finances: The Rainy Day
Okay, getting to eat your words less than 24 hours after writing them? Priceless. I just wish someone would give me that priceess price er, now.
TigerGrrl needs braces, and I've known that for a bit. Today I met with the Evil Orthodontist (actually, a nice man). He wants $2,500 to fix TG's teeth. That's a lot less than most braces cost, but more than I have.
So, have I consigned my daughter to a life of crooked teeth and a crooked jaw? No. I've revisited my already tight budget, called up my dental insurance company, and decided, yeah, we can live on lentils and chicken (only when it's on sale for less that $.99/lb). I'll go without wine hereforth (actually, I'll go without good wine, but I will still buy wine in the 5 liter box when it's on sale for less than $10), and manage to live with the (totally out of fashion) clothes and shoes in my wardrobe (all circa 1998 or earlier). So I won't look cool.
Whoops. Like that has never happened before.
TigerGrrl needs braces, and I've known that for a bit. Today I met with the Evil Orthodontist (actually, a nice man). He wants $2,500 to fix TG's teeth. That's a lot less than most braces cost, but more than I have.
So, have I consigned my daughter to a life of crooked teeth and a crooked jaw? No. I've revisited my already tight budget, called up my dental insurance company, and decided, yeah, we can live on lentils and chicken (only when it's on sale for less that $.99/lb). I'll go without wine hereforth (actually, I'll go without good wine, but I will still buy wine in the 5 liter box when it's on sale for less than $10), and manage to live with the (totally out of fashion) clothes and shoes in my wardrobe (all circa 1998 or earlier). So I won't look cool.
Whoops. Like that has never happened before.
December 2, 2008
Broke During the Recession? Here's How You Manage
Well, I don't know about you, but I was shocked, shocked to discover that my nation is in the midst of a recession. Before the news media notified us, I just thought our economy was in the toilet. I've known that for six months to a year now, maybe longer. So the breathless declarations that, stock markets crashing, federal bailouts of banks and insurers, imminent demise of the U.S. auto industry, and downward spiral of the housing market notwithstanding, the recession is something new just doesn't register.
Also, I'm ahead in this game. I've been living in recession mode since moving out of ChezFoil in September of 2005 and embracing my life as a single mother in financially straightened circumstances. Really, I feel like most people are just getting a whiff of my economic life for the last few years (recovering from PdeFF's insane overspending, getting myself back on an even keel -- really, PdeFF and Dubya have some striking commonalities with regard to fiscal responsibility).
I'm here to help. What to do when money is drying up and earnings aren't increasing and are possibly decreasing?
Well, first off, be honest about needs and wants. Everything you want is not really something you need. This is a truism and a cliche, but think about it. Mend old clothes and shoes. Once clothes are too mended for work or parties, use them when you clean the house or paint or do other chores. (You don't need new sweats for that. Just use over-mended clothing that used to be office-, church-, or party-worthy.) Develop hobbies that don't require you to spend money (hiking, knitting, writing, guitar, piano) or that require minimal expenditures (cooking). Shop with a list, and comparison shop. Don't buy things just because "it's cute" or "it's a bargain." Think very carefully before you put anything on a shopping list. You really don't need pretty much anything the Washington Post Express , Esquire, Glamour, Vogue, FHM, O, Martha Stewart Living, or any other advertising venue (sometimes referred to as "the media" but really just a bunch of vendors) identifies as a needed item. Realize that any present you buy for someone they could buy for themselves more easily and more likely find what they want. Track expenditures (and pay attention to trends in your spending patterns).
If your circle of friends won't like you if you don't have the right handbag, shoes, car, or whatever, consider the quality of your friends, not the purchases you make to define you. You can trade up.
Cable is not a need. Eating out is not a need. An expensive health club is not a need. A fancy car is not a need. Heck, walk (or bike) a couple of miles to the Metro or work: you'll save on gas and insurance (lower mileage means lower rates, and more likely than not fewer accidents and tickets), and parking, not to mention the exercise you get will mean you won't need the expensive health club as much. Pack your lunch: it will be healthier if you make it yourself from scratch anyway.
Shamelessly barter and bargain shop. Ask for more of a discount. Askif there are scholarships, financial aid/assistance, group discounts for your profession/alumni group/social status/whatever.
Help other people out: I can't contribute financially to much of anything (and Kira, thank you so much for your help), but I make toys and clothes for Christmas donations (for little kids -- older kids turn up their noses -- they want a Wii or something), give blood and platelets, and volunteer with my neighbors: I have my kids' friends over and sometimes when I need to run an errand, the friends' parents will take my kids and I don't have to pay a babysitter.
But really, the biggest thing is this: I pay cash. If I don't have the money, I don't buy things. When I don't have the money, I do without. I don't buy much anyway, and I track my purchases, but if I don't have the cash for something, regardless of how much I need it, I don't spend the money. That sometimes means taking the bus for a bit while stalling on a needed car repair. It's inconvenient, but despite having split households and earning less than half what I did in 2002, I have resolved most divorce-related debt and have not incurred any additional debt. In one more year, I'll be free of the lingering miasma of divorce-related financial crisis and will be supporting myself comfortably (if very, very carefully) on an income that only requires 40 hours a week of work from me (leaving me more time with my kids, who, let's be honest, in the wake of the divorce, need my undistracted attention and need me to be available without worrying about what my boss wants).
Edited at 7:47 EST 12/4/2008.
Also, I'm ahead in this game. I've been living in recession mode since moving out of ChezFoil in September of 2005 and embracing my life as a single mother in financially straightened circumstances. Really, I feel like most people are just getting a whiff of my economic life for the last few years (recovering from PdeFF's insane overspending, getting myself back on an even keel -- really, PdeFF and Dubya have some striking commonalities with regard to fiscal responsibility).
I'm here to help. What to do when money is drying up and earnings aren't increasing and are possibly decreasing?
Well, first off, be honest about needs and wants. Everything you want is not really something you need. This is a truism and a cliche, but think about it. Mend old clothes and shoes. Once clothes are too mended for work or parties, use them when you clean the house or paint or do other chores. (You don't need new sweats for that. Just use over-mended clothing that used to be office-, church-, or party-worthy.) Develop hobbies that don't require you to spend money (hiking, knitting, writing, guitar, piano) or that require minimal expenditures (cooking). Shop with a list, and comparison shop. Don't buy things just because "it's cute" or "it's a bargain." Think very carefully before you put anything on a shopping list. You really don't need pretty much anything the Washington Post Express , Esquire, Glamour, Vogue, FHM, O, Martha Stewart Living, or any other advertising venue (sometimes referred to as "the media" but really just a bunch of vendors) identifies as a needed item. Realize that any present you buy for someone they could buy for themselves more easily and more likely find what they want. Track expenditures (and pay attention to trends in your spending patterns).
If your circle of friends won't like you if you don't have the right handbag, shoes, car, or whatever, consider the quality of your friends, not the purchases you make to define you. You can trade up.
Cable is not a need. Eating out is not a need. An expensive health club is not a need. A fancy car is not a need. Heck, walk (or bike) a couple of miles to the Metro or work: you'll save on gas and insurance (lower mileage means lower rates, and more likely than not fewer accidents and tickets), and parking, not to mention the exercise you get will mean you won't need the expensive health club as much. Pack your lunch: it will be healthier if you make it yourself from scratch anyway.
Shamelessly barter and bargain shop. Ask for more of a discount. Askif there are scholarships, financial aid/assistance, group discounts for your profession/alumni group/social status/whatever.
Help other people out: I can't contribute financially to much of anything (and Kira, thank you so much for your help), but I make toys and clothes for Christmas donations (for little kids -- older kids turn up their noses -- they want a Wii or something), give blood and platelets, and volunteer with my neighbors: I have my kids' friends over and sometimes when I need to run an errand, the friends' parents will take my kids and I don't have to pay a babysitter.
But really, the biggest thing is this: I pay cash. If I don't have the money, I don't buy things. When I don't have the money, I do without. I don't buy much anyway, and I track my purchases, but if I don't have the cash for something, regardless of how much I need it, I don't spend the money. That sometimes means taking the bus for a bit while stalling on a needed car repair. It's inconvenient, but despite having split households and earning less than half what I did in 2002, I have resolved most divorce-related debt and have not incurred any additional debt. In one more year, I'll be free of the lingering miasma of divorce-related financial crisis and will be supporting myself comfortably (if very, very carefully) on an income that only requires 40 hours a week of work from me (leaving me more time with my kids, who, let's be honest, in the wake of the divorce, need my undistracted attention and need me to be available without worrying about what my boss wants).
Edited at 7:47 EST 12/4/2008.
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