Yearly Archives: 2011

Have I mentioned that I’m working four jobs starting in September?

Four.

Oh. Well, I am.

Clearly I’m a crazy person as the mayhem of four jobs just isn’t enough to cool my jets.

To be fair these are all part-time jobs, and more importantly, they’re jobs in my chosen field doing what I love to be doing. I may be supremely busy and making nothing more than mere pennies, but I’m very grateful and consider myself enormously lucky (most of the time) to have what I have.

Hey, nobody ever said making a living out of life in the theatre was going to be easy.

But it sure is fun.

Anyhow, that’s not the point. The point is that the blessing/curse of four jobs, a move from house to apartment, the responsibilities of marriage and maintaining a home, and the chaos of the seven different Google calendars needed to organize my activities evidently just isn’t enough.

Crazy, remember?

So to this endless list I am also adding two priorities all of my own. Two things that are just for me, because I love doing them. And though somehow working them in there may drive me off the deep end, they’re also a treat.

They are my two goals of fall.

1. I want to dance again.

I bet you didn’t know I can do the splits – left, right and center. Or that I danced in my college’s modern dance company and spent my wild and crazy college nights at the dance studio taking tap, jazz, ballet, and stretch and strengthen classes. Or that I own a full collection of leotards, dance tights, and dance shoes.

I’m not a natural born dancer, and I haven’t been dancing since diapers – far from it, in fact. And I certainly don’t claim to be a professional dancer by any means, but I can hold my own, and I’ve done my fair share of dancing, teaching and choreography for musicals. But most importantly, I love it. It makes me so incredibly happy. And you know what? I miss it. A lot. And though it may cost money that we don’t exactly have and take up valuable time that is in short supply, it is so worth it to me. So this fall I’m challenging myself to register for those dance classes and make it happen!

2. I want to love on the kitties.

Yes, kitty lovin’. As in, there are hundreds of cats across Cincinnati in shelters who are lonely, scared, abandoned, abused, and looking for their perfect family who could really use some love and affection. And then there’s me – a person who is unable to be that perfect family to a cat due to extenuating circumstance (but desperately wants to, make no mistake about that) who could really use some love and affection of her very own. It just works out.

When we lived in Michigan I spent my Monday afternoons volunteering at the local Lansing animal shelter. It was utterly therapeutic for me and the cats. They got the attention and affection they so obviously needed and deserved, and I was able to do something that I love, am hecka good at, and still participate in a good cause. Though the two Cincinnati area animal shelters are both really far away from where we live, and my time is in short supply, I think this is important for both my and the cats sanity and emotional health. And again, most importantly, I love it. It brings me the warm and fuzzies, make me a much nicer person to be around, and I can finally stop pestering Ted for a cat.

Win-win situation.

What are your goals of fall?

I have another treat in store for you today! My, you’ve been lucky lately! No need to thank me, though I think you just might after meeting my fabulous friend and co-worker Sara and reading about all the awkward hilarity that is her life. Awkwardness follows her everywhere. It’s a talent. We bonded over our mutual obsession of Kate & William’s royal wedding shindig, blogging for the sake of sharing awkwardness and hilarity with the masses, and the extreme misery of dealing with some of the most obnoxious human beings God has ever put on his green earth. It’s amazing. So, without further ado, the lovely and talented Sara!

 Hello All!

When Lara asked me to write a post I, of course, being the type of person who loves to share my awkward life stories with as many people as possible, said yes. Hey, if my pain can bring you a little joy in this world then why the hell not? Unfortunately, I had no idea what to write about. I have my own blog, which is currently on hiatus due to immense writers block. I blame this on the fact that I am currently applying to grad school, a process that will steal your soul. Case in point: I almost had a coronary when I couldn’t figure out how to create an account for the application process. Fun Fact: I already had an account. Anyway, back to my conundrum about what to write. I have a very ridiculous life so I figured I could just write about that.

For instance, I just returned from the house of a very dear friend with whom I baked obscene party treats for a friend’s Bachelorette party this weekend. That’s right, I am currently in the perpetual bridesmaid stage of my life, which is fitting since I will be 23 in a month and live in a rural area. Surprisingly, I did not have even one wedding to attend to this past summer. However, I have four weddings this fall. FOUR! I am a bridesmaid in two of them, which is awesome of course. I love and adore all the people getting married, as well as their prospective spouses. However, I’m thinking that if I have to spend hundreds of dollars buying dresses, shoes, getting my hair did, and purchasing bridal shower gifts, bachelorette gifts and wedding gifts, I should at least get to come over and use that fancy quesadilla maker I bought you (I do so love quesadillas).

And I haven’t even mentioned the travel involved yet! This wedding season I have already been to New Orleans for a bachelorette trip, and I will be going to Louisville, KY (a city I swore I’d never visit being an ardent UK fan and alum), Nashville, TN (I’m quite looking forward to this one) and Paducah, KY (I plan on getting drunk and going to the World Quilt Museum, which I’ve heard is a fun time).

But before I sign off I figured I could leave you with an awkward story, since that is what my hiatus’d blog is about. So, here’s one for the ages – my run in with a New Orleans horse cop on Bourbon Street.

 I absolutely adored the city of New Orleans. It’s dirty, decrepitly southern, and the whole town seems drunk. I want to move there ASAP. By the way, alligator is delicious. When we were there on the first night of our trip we went to Bourbon Street, where the following exchange happened.

(Drunk me, FABULOUS bachelorette and soberish-friend that is smarter than all of us are stumbling down Bourbon Street, along with Mr. Handsy McBlue-Stater. There are two cops on horses in the middle of the street.)
Me: Hold my drink!
FABULOUS Bachelorette: HORSE!!!!!!
Sober-ish Friend: Leave the po-po alone!
Me: (to Annoyed Horse Cop) CAN I PET YOUR HORSE!?
Annoyed Horse Cop: No, he doesn’t like to be pet.
Me: (Already petting horse on the nose while holding a drink in the other hand) It’s okay, I’m from Kentucky.
Annoyed Horse Cop: Oh. Okay then.

I then proceeded to talk to the horse for the next ten minutes about how I wished I had a sugar cube or carrot for it, but alas there didn’t seem to be any on Bourbon Street. Apparently, being from Kentucky has convinced me, as well as the rest of the world, that I have innate horse skills – despite the fact that I’ve only ridden on a horse twice in my life. However, I love my state and will continue to try to convince Lara that she should stop looking for houses in Ohio and come over to Kentucky where everything is better. So, I leave with the hope that you have enjoyed this tangent blog post. Next time you’re at a wedding look for the bridesmaid in the pink dress hanging out at the bar. Come on over and I’ll tell you a story!

– Sara

We have a neighbor who likes to keep us informed.

By that I mean when she sees us outside walking up the driveway to our vehicles she likes to halt her endless yard work and rush over and inform us that the pile of mulch surrounding our pine trees needs to be moved at least 3″ away from the base immediately or the trees will die, or that our landlord ripped out the flowers but left the poison ivy in when he first acquired the house, or where exactly our property line is, or how the house got a new driveway, or that our basement’s foundation is unstable and leaks in from the front of the house (she knows this how?) or that the fallen tree branch in our front yard has been there an awfully long time, or that a tree fell in our backyard last night at 2 a.m. or that our landlord is incompetent and never fixed the toilet for the previous tenants, etc. As I said, she likes to keep us informed.

Sometimes we don’t quite know what to believe. She, oddly, seems to know an awful lot about everything, like our neighbors, their families, their homes, the layout and renovation of our home, our yard, our basement, and the area in general. But she also divulged upon our first meeting last November that she communicates with the spirits and that our little plot of land, apparently, is very spiritually active.

Okay.

Anyhow, like with the trees in our front yard surrounded by mulch that are, I guess, dying a slow cruel death (um, they’re fine)….we don’t always know what to believe. But I’ve always seen our little corner of the world notated as “Fruit Hill” on maps of Cincinnati. A few months ago she informed us as to why.

We do, indeed, live on a hill. Off a tiny little cut-through street at the end of a long driveway. We have quite a lot of land in the area and a lake a few feet back. The house is old, dating back to around the early 1930s, we think. Our landlord has no idea when the house was built while our neighbor, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly when it was built. She told us that our house used to be the old fruit stand way back when and that people came here when they needed fresh fruit. The whole area was a farm, owned by one family. From what I can remember of her tale, our house was built to be the fruit stand. Then the farmer’s built the house behind us and the family moved in there. Somehow this tale also involved the two houses in front of ours as well, but if this story is true, I’m proud that our house played such a vital role. Of course sections were added onto the house later when it became a living space. I’ve done a little research so far on our house and Fruit Hill, but unfortunately I’ve been unable to find anything more on it other than that the area used to be a fruit farm. I think one day I may spend some time in the library looking through some local files to see what I can find. I wonder what she looked like back then? I often wonder this. If I could find a photo of her back then it would be like Christmas Day to me!

But I love the history of this house. Fruit stands are pretty cool places to begin with, even more so back in the day when they were fairly important to the people who relied on them for their fresh produce. I’m proud that we were able to live here and contribute to her history for a year. Fruit Hill seems to suit us, and I’ll always remember our time here and the history of it fondly.

Does your house have a special story behind it?

Meet Kelley.

She looks like Reese Witherspoon, doesn’t she? She totally does. In addition to being ridiculously pretty and having excellent taste in “car party” music, she’s also my second guest blogger! Kelley and I went to high school together, but we became close friends in college. Kelley is a teacher and has the best (by best I mean most ridiculous, insane, unbelievable, endearing, and laugh out loud funny) stories from the schools – especially the so-called sketchy inner city ones – she’s worked in. We’ve had many a memorable slumber party with our third musketeer Emily and tasteless movies, ice cream cupcakes, girly drinks, a night in downtown San Antonio dancing ourselves silly, and plenty of good clean Christmas break holiday entertainment fun. She’s a blast, and here she is!

Today is a big day. It is my 20th first day of school. It started pretty much the same as the first-first day of school (kindergarten). I arranged my supplies neatly, laid out a brand-new outfit, packed my lunch carefully, and didn’t sleep a wink. It’s really amazing no matter how much you grow up, how much actually stays the same. I, as a grown-up, go to a place that I went everyday as a kid- I go to school. Today was my 5th first day as a teacher, and boy, those days are NUTS. Finding your classes on a middle school campus as a student is NOTHING compared to being the teacher of 15 crying kindergarteners, crying parents, and all the preparation that goes into a new school year. But, it is so incredibly worth it. I love the fact that I get to look at a bright shiny boxes of Crayola crayons, markers and colored pencils (NOT map pencils) every August and bargain hunt for them like an extreme couponer. What is even more amazing every first day of school is looking out on 20-some odd pairs of eyes and seeing amazing little people, with dreams and hopes and ambitions. I don’t want to make this sappy and corny, and it wasn’t nearly as funny as I wanted, but just know this: Teaching on the “wrong” side of town is the best thing I’ve done in my life.

– Kelley

Today I’d like to introduce you to my awesome best friend Katie. In addition to being one of my best buddies and very first guest blogger (yay!), she was also the witness to the infamous shark tank incident on the high school aquatic science summer trip of 2003 (You remember, the chick rolling in the aquarium laughing so hard she was crying? Yeah, that one). We share an undying love for reading, snowcones, and alligators. She’s crazy smart and is an immensely talented writer. Back in college (before I even knew what blogging was!) she’d write a column called “Katie’s Kronicles” and email it out monthly. Boy, was that some good reading! Today she’s in grad school and the mother to a sweet little toddler. So, please welcome my friend Katie! She’s a real gem – I’m sure you’ll think so too!

Ever played the board game “Life”? You know, the one where you put your little blue or pink person into your free car, take a free $10,000 from the bank, and spin the wheel of opportunity that will decide your fate? While this game clearly represents real life to a T, it was often surprising at the end of the game which players could retire at Millionaire Estates and who shuffled off to the less cushy Countryside Acres. The person who drew the $100,000 salary card could land on all the wrong spaces, while someone with only half that salary could get lucky and end up with the most money at the end.

I was reminded of this game this week as I read “The Millionaire Next Door” by Thomas Stanley and William Danko. This book completely debunks the myth of what the life of a millionaire looks like. Most of us assume that only the Bill Gates and Tim Duncans of the world will ever see seven digits in their financial portfolio, but this is far from the truth. More than 80% of the country’s millionaires are ordinary people who have accumulated their wealth in one generation. These are the 7 common denominators among those who successfully build wealth:

1. They live well below their means. I think it’s important to emphasize here that they still live nice lives – we’re not talking Ramen noodles, rags for clothes, shivering in a cardboard box. They live comfortably. But they shop the sales and buy used cars. They live in middle-class neighborhoods. They track expenses, budget, set financial goals, and spend time planning for their financial futures. Sound familiar? Not so different from most of us (as-of-yet) nonmillionaires. Also, most of the wives of these men are planners and meticulous budgeters. My favorite quote from the whole book is “I can’t get my wife to spend any money!” Love it! My hubby can definitely relate to that one. Why would I buy a tea kettle when I can just boil my water in a pot? Who says I can’t get a toddler in and out of the backseat of a 2-door car? Let’s try eating vegan for awhile, babe – meat is so expensive! ;)

2. They allocate their time, energy, and money efficiently, in ways conducive to building wealth. They spend less time spending and more time investing, less time shopping and more time researching and managing their assets.

3. They believe that financial independence is more important than displaying high social status. The authors draw a distinction between those with high income and those with high net worth. Often, the driver of the Rolls Royce is one with high income/low net worth and high consumption habits. The one with high net worth is driving a 3-year-old Ford.

4. Their parents did not provide economic outpatient care. This goes back to the fact that most millionaires are first-generation wealthy. So while some may have received help with tuition, most did not receive any financial help from their parents once they reached adulthood.

5. Their adult children are economically self-sufficient. Even though they are wealthy, this population does not provide a life of leisure for their children. They teach their children to be independent, frugal, and achievement oriented, as opposed to the high consumption “one earns to spend” motto.

6. They are proficient in targeting market opportunities. With wealth growing nearly six times faster than the household population (at the time this was written in 1996), opportunities to serve the wealthy will be greater than ever.

7. They chose the right occupation. You can’t predict whether someone is a millionaire by the type of business they are in – people from ALL career fields are included in this population. But self-employed people are four times more likely to be millionaires than those who work for others. And education is valued by the wealthy, because in a worst case scenario, “They can take your business, but they can’t take your intellect.”

A couple rules of thumb from the book: If you’re not yet wealthy, but want to be someday, never purchase a home that requires a mortgage that is more than twice your household’s total annual realized income; set aside for investing purposes at least 15% of your pretax income each year; buy vehicles that are at least 2-3 years old, since they depreciate most quickly in those first couple years.

You may be asking, “Why do I want to become a millionaire if I don’t get to live the high life?” I love the fact that the authors use the term “financially independent” to describe the wealthy. This means that these people will never have to depend on anyone else for anything financial. If they become disabled; if their children require expensive medical care; if the government raises income taxes to 98%; if a volcano destroys their every possession; and if they are lucky enough to live to the ripe old age of 140 – they will always be able to care for themselves and their families. What a dream, huh?

Overall, this book was absolutely fascinating and hugely practical, as well as being a surprisingly quick, fun, and easy read. And since it’s not brand new, you probably won’t have to be number 227 on the hold list at the library for it. So Ms. Lara, shall we agree to meet for some underwater basket weaving at Millionaire Estates in about 50 years? I’ll see you there! ;)

– Katie