What's Goin' On?

Several things.

1. I keep wondering when Kevin and I will be able to make the break for Missouri. If you've read this blog all along, you know that before I got the marketing job, Kevin and I were within a year or two to chucking it all and living largely off our land. Things have changed.

I like this job, but I'm not in love with it. It's fairly lucrative, but we're still struggling because Kevin hasn't brought in what he brought in before he quit his job. At least not yet. He has been doing freelance carpentry/building and has a bundle o' pay coming this week, and has more work lined up. So we're fine, but it's tough to figure out just how much is coming in each month.

We sat down last week and discussed our next big monetary goal. The first was paying off our credit cards and getting a down payment together, which we did. Now we have credit card debt again (we remodeled the bathroom and lived off of them a bit while Kevin made the transition between dead-end-job and freelancing), and we want to pay off the $4,000 left on our land mortgage. Hopefully, we'll be able to accomplish that by this fall.

According to Suze Orman, people our age should 1. contribute the full matching amount to their 401K, if they have one. Check. 2. Pay off all credit card debt. In process. Again. 3. Save for a down payment, OR, if they have a home, contribute the maximum to a Roth IRA. Will do after we pay off the credit cards and our land. 4. She didn't really say. And that's where we're not quite sure what to do. Why hast thou forsaken us, Suze?!

Here are our options:
Option 1: Settle in here for at least 5 years. This would allow me to take advantage of the largest salary that I ever intend to have and the awesome bonus structure that allows me to double that salary--though, on average, it's usually around 60% of the salary. No complaints. With big chunks of money coming in once a year, we could accomplish a lot fast.

Settling in here has several other advantages. Though I don't relish the thought of an office job for that many years, I do love my coworkers and being close to my best friend and family. By settling in, we could feel good about spending money to enlarge our house--a necessity here soon--which would also increase the resale value. Hanging around for a few years also means that we'll get more out of our house when we sell.

Ultimately, hanging around means that we can leave the anxiety about what to do behind and just relax. BUT, Kevin doesn't have the ties here that I have, and is definitely more ready to leave. BUT, I don't have the ties in Missouri that Kevin has and, while wanting to get there someday, I worry about making it financially--even though we'll need a lot less.

Option 2: Instead of improving our current house, we use every penny after step 3 above to make improvements to our land. For instance, we can dig the well, dig the lake (and rudimentary garden watering system), hire an architect to plan the house, begin buying materials, and/or build a log workshop to live in while we construct all of this stuff little by little.

It means that we get out there sooner, allowing us to spend that many more years doing what (we think) we want to do. If we go with option 1, we'll both be in our 40s by the time we try to start over with something completely new. Option 2 means "freedom", but probably not much income, and are we ready to hang it up and be tied to the land and poverty before we've seen Europe, taken the kids on a few big vacations, . . .

It's a pickle, dear reader! And I didn't plan on writing this much about it! There were other little piddly things I was going to let you in on. Another day.

Still, after just having reread this, I think that staying for awhile would be the best option. If we're going to live in Missouri for the rest of our lives, surely a few more years here, soaking up money and putting in a few systems out there, won't hurt. Much.

"I have money to spend in this store." --The Pretty Woman

When I was a young adult grunger, I used to love to shop. I had no money, but that didn't matter at all. I would bop on down to the shitty part of town where the Village Thrift was located. I would spend at least an hour patiently pawing through the racks, pulling item after item into my mini cart. With scarcely a second thought, I wheeled my load to the check-out, handed over my $4.75, and watchfully made my way back to the car. Maybe I'd head to the Salvation Army or the Army Surplus store; maybe not. Either way, I was in for a treat when I got home. Digging through the big white bags, I'd pull out that day's treasures: a rust red $2.00 1970s-era leather coat; beat up 501s that--in the days before the hip 2nd-hand clothing stores on campus--could still be had for 25 cents; a black knit wrap dress with big roses. It was fun. It was like Christmas!

Today, picking my nose to the bleeding point is a more attractive option than clothes shopping. I now have some money to spend, and spend it I must--I have one of those Real Jobs, after all, and a boss who always looks hep and fresh. Only now, unlike most of my adult life, I am waddling the gap between XL and plus sizes. If style and price already cut out 85% of all the clothes in the known world, size now cuts another 12 or 13%. And then I got pregnant. And there are, apparently, 4 items of clothing that I kinda like, can afford, and can fit into.

Case in point: My generous friends got me a rather large gift certificate for Motherhood Maternity. In the desperation that comes from a looming business trip, a growing belly, and having nothing to wear, I asked Kevin to make the ultimate sacrifice and stop at the mall so I could get some clothes (I don't have a lot of excess time). "Give me 45 minutes," I said. I went straight to MM, grabbed some stuff off the rack, and got out of there fast.

Motherhood Maternity clothes are cheap. That's because they are 1. mostly "weekend" clothes; 2. made of crappy material; and 3. cut very, very badly. My business options were limited, but at least they had some XLs and even a rack of plus-size maternity clothes--a category of clothing whose mere existence could be considered a miracle.

When I got them home and tried them on, well, "disappointment" is a good descriptive word for my mood. The dresses fit but, upon bending over ever so slightly, rode up to my ass, like, pretty much all the way. Bad tailoring. The capri jeans were cute, but really more like leggings, and who wants to see skin-tight clothes on plus-size pregnant women? Most of them were going back to the store.

Motherhood gives you an ultra-generous 10 days to return their ill-fitting togs, and today was the last day. I got my store credit and was told that I could redeem it at their sister store, Mimi Maternity, which has more business fare.

Only they carry very few XLs, and no plus sizes at all. And everything is at least twice as much.

Apparently, the geniuses who own these stores don't believe that 1. barely over-average (read: "fat") women get pregnant and, if such a travesty occurs, 2. fat pregnant women don't work. Apparently, they are too busy sitting around in their trailers drinking Mountain Dew.

It's the same everywhere. Casual Corner is a long-lived store carrying a decent line of women's business clothes. They usually carry at least a dozen different suits in various colors and materials. Their sister store for petite women has pretty much the same stuff. But, walk through the open doorway to their fat sister store, the punishingly named "August Max Woman", and you'll find maybe 2-3 suits, in different colors and polyester blends. So, if you can wear a "normal" size on top and a first-line plus size on the bottom, don't even try to buy the jacket at CC and the bottoms at AMaxW--these sister stores don't carry the same suits! Even the basic black suits are made of different fabrics. It's totally stupid. And if you think you're going to find a heather grey, wool crepe, 3-season suit in your size, you're dreaming, fatty.

Thankfully, some retailers--Old Navy comes to mind--have finally caught on that the average American woman is a size 14, no matter how much shame is heaped upon her, and the sales racks are filled and have been for decades with XS and S, and so maybe they should carry 14 as the mid-point size instead of the biggest size. But Old Navy doesn't carry a lot in the business category, and its sister stores--The Gap and Banana Republic--haven't quite caught on.

And don't even get me started on shoes. My size 10s are getting more acceptable, but I still might as well be Bozo the Clown.

In the world of women's clothing, it's still true that you can't be too rich or too thin.

And I hate shopping. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. Hate hate hate it.

I hate it.

And I have money to spend in this store.

"Strong . . . Yet Vulnerable" refuses to die

If you are one of the lucky planeteers who is privy to my rants, you sho'nuff would have heard the "Strong, Yet Vulnerable" one, AKA Rant #247. If you haven't, check out my archives (from August 2004). The title of the first such article was "Things that make you go 'GEESH!! Enough already!!'"

Here are the first compelling bits:

I've noticed something, gentle reader. I've noticed that, in these presumably enlightened but beneath the surface painfully stifling times, people can't stand to describe a woman as "strong" or otherwise capable without throwing in the inherent weakness that they all possess--their vulnerability. I've been noticing it for years, and it shows no sign of going away. . . . It gets even worse when you consider the actual definition of "vulnerable." Web 10 defines it as: Capable of being physically wounded; open to attack or damage; . . .

So anyway, I'm gathering information about the Neko Case show coming up and I innocently go to one of the top 3 Google web sites and come across this nugget:

"In 1997, Case recorded her solo debut, The Virginian, a traditional country album that revealed The Voice--rough around the edges but possessing a vulnerable strength and range that has caused critics and her growing legion of loyal fans to swoon ever since." [Italics are mine, in anger.]

Now, Ms. Case has a voice that is truly impressive. Imagine if Bjork and Annie Lennox had a voice box and that voice box preferred to sing haunting alt country ballads and full-on piledrivers. It would be awesome, right? It is! And you would never think to describe it as "vulnerable."

I realize I'm well on the way to being accused of being too sensitive, but 1. This doesn't keep me up at night even though 2. it's a well-documented epidemic revealing the misguided notion that women and only women, despite their gains, are still but a second away from crying, fainting, or both. I should write an article about it for Slate or something. A couple of weeks ago I was reading about yet another girls-kick-ass type of gal, and found my concentration totally blown by the insertion of that lunatic phrase. If only I could remember who it was! Ah, the vulnerability of a woman's mind.

p.s. Just wanted to see what else was out there. Here are 4-in-a-row from google:

... the belligerent dealer is testament to an unyielding director, who wants astrong, yet vulnerable female character, willing to make the ultimate sacrifice.www.iofilm.co.uk/printer_friendly. php?filename=blind_spot_2002.shtml - 4k - Cached - Similar pages
The Silence Of The Lambs (1991)Foster's strong, yet restrained, vulnerable female lead role in the much talked-aboutfilm was intensified by public knowledge of her real-life associations ...www.filmsite.org/sile.html - 40k - Jun 11, 2005 - Cached - Similar pages
washingtonpost.com: Chatological Humor"W. attracts all of us loyal, devoted, strong yet vulnerable, affectionate womenwho lavish him with attention way beyond what he deserves. ...www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/ liveonline/style/funnyyoushouldask/ - Similar pages
Joan of Arc (1999/I) (TV)Her Joan is strong, yet vulnerable, and Sobieski's ability to capture thecomplexities of the character is what makes her so good, and makes her Joan so ...www.imdb.com/title/tt0178145/ - 52k - Cached - Similar pages

Lee Greenwood's America

I'm not a techie, or I would have copied this picture on my blog. But close your eyes and picture . . . a Chevy truck. Above the word "Chevrolet" on the metallic band across the tailgate, a very special, and very large, message:

"I Like Guns, Hate Fags, and Love Bush"

Beside this message of unbelievable but much-too-typical stupidity . . . a Chevy emblem, only with a picture of a hand . . . giving you the finger.

Michigan plates.

You can view it by going to www.thismodernworld.com and scrolling down a bit.

(Perhaps this gentleman would be the target buyer for one of my "piss on ribbons" stickers, with that little scamp Hobbes delightfully peeing . . . on a sticky car ribbon! Is there a greater joy than marketing? I think not.)

I've always thought that my dream job would involve singing really well in front of thousands of adoring fans--like Aretha Franklin, or Mick Jagger. But now I'm beginning to see the beauty of being a traffic cop.