The Tax Man Cometh

Well, it’s that time of year.  That time of year where the energy crackles, the tension is palpable and you can cut the tension with a knife.  It is sexy, bold, brash and sassy.

Tax time!

Because I do not own a home or much in the way of investments, I still my own taxes on a 1040 using Turbo Tax.  I had to file in two states this year because I moved for work and I had a total of 4 W-2s.  And I had to pay in for the first time ever, to the tune of $1,000.

Dammit!!!

The reason my taxes were so high was because I had to cash out a retirement fund in the state I used to live in.  It is the only state in the Union that does not allow teachers to transfer their state retirement in any way, shape or form.  I used it to pay off my credit card debt and although Dave Ramsey would NOT agree with it, I stand by my decision.

Paying off that credit card debt means that I am free from any interest loans for the moment.  I also consider that retirement to be blood money because I worked a job I was really, REALLY unhappy in to get it.  The job almost drove me to suicide but thankfully I am here to tell the tale.  Really, it is all for the best.

Thanks to my Financial Peace class, I had $1,000 in the bank and I will cash flow to replace my emergency fund.  I am selling a lot of stuff on eBay and because I was ahead on my car payments, I will use the car payments to replenish my emergency fund.

I do not plan to have to pay in next year, but I am grateful to Dave Ramsey’s plan that allowed me to fund this emergency without too much heartache or grief!  🙂

Smoking Hot Shirt—RAWR!!!

I work at Lane Bryant part-time.  One of the benefits is 40% off the merchandise (one weekend a month it is 50%).  I recently purchased a smoking HOT shirt at LB and since I haven’t done a fashion review in a while, I thought I would share my thoughts on this hell-a cute shirt!

Here is what lanebryant.com has to say about the shirt:

What could be more flattering than a sexy draped neck top with shirred sides? Simply add an alluring animal print, and you’re all set for a sassy Spring! Cap sleeves.

• Rayon/spandex
• Machine wash
• Length: 28″

I have to admit when we first got this in the store, I didn’t think much of it.  Because I am already on the top-heavy side, I avoid cowl necklines—they just add MORE, and that is the last thing I need.

But my friend Angie came in the store and tried it on.  She looked so cute in it, I just had to have it.  I wore it with a pencil skirt, knee-high boots and a coral sweater (I like the blue in the picture but thought I’d change it up a bit.  All I can say was…

IT.  WAS.  SMOKING.  HOT!!!

I was surprised how many compliments I got on it.  I love the blue and orange—an unexpected contrast!  Material drapes nicely without being overly clingy.  So far it has washed very well and doesn’t need ironing.  It is a seasonless top—you can wear it sleeveless in the summer or under a blazer or sweater in the winter.

I think I will try this with black leggings, black sweater and boots.  Well played, Lane Bryant.  Well played!

Triple Threat—Yet Another Epically Awful First Date

Thanks to everyone for reading my two recent blog posts chronicling dating disasters over the years.  I was shocked over 350 people from as far away as Malawi, Mongolia and Chile read my posts about these dinks.  So by popular demand, I will post one more true story about an awful date I went on…

He was a Jewish corporate lawyer I met on eHarmony.  His pictures were cute.  He was devout in his faith, well-educated, well-traveled, close to his family, a great conversationalist and was funny as hell.  We lived in different states, so we were relegated to long phone calls and MANY text messages.  I loved the giddy feeling I got when I checked my phone and a message from him was waiting for me.

But he was a lawyer and I was a teacher.  We worked long hours and it was hard to pin down a time to meet.  I got a horrible blow when my best friend from high school died unexpectedly and I went home for the funeral.  I thought I would take advantage of the geographic proximity and meet him.  He lived in a city an hour from where my parents live, so we could pull this off.  Right?

The first red flag was that, even though I drove four hours to get back to my home state, he couldn’t drive the one measly hour to meet me.  I had to go to HIS town.  Not knowing his town well enough, I told him to name a place to meet.  Even though I specifically said to pick somewhere special, he picked a Starbucks.  Really?!!?  On top of that, I had no idea where it was.  The Lord gave me many gifts, but a sense of direction is not one of them, sadly enough…

I got hopelessly lost and I called him, very frustrated as hell.  I tried to tell him where I was and he kept saying, “Drive north until you get to X Street, then turn east…”  I’m sorry, but I am directionally challenged.  Telling me to turn ANY cardinal direction ANYWHERE is like asking me to recite a Japanese phone book from memory—I just can’t do it!  I finally gave up and said, “I am at Perkins.  If you want to meet me there, fine.”  I’d driven hours to meet him, got hopelessly lost and just picked the closest landmark.  The very fucking least he could do was meet me where I was.  Idiot.

He finally got to Perkins and I could not have been more disappointed.  First of all, he was way overdressed in black button-down shirt, black slacks…it was a very warm June afternoon.  I was in a sleeveless shirt and crops and he looked like he was going to temple.  Also, he was FAT and BALD.  I don’t care if people are fat and bald, but I go through the trouble of taking new pics every few months.  This dude had not updated his photos since the nineties.  I was dismayed.

I tried to hide my chagrin and we talked easily for about an hour when his cell rang.  He saw who called and apologized to me.  “Sorry, I have to take this.”  (Picks up phone.)  “Hey, Mom!  What’s up?”

What.  The.  HELL!?!?!  Who the flip takes calls from their mother on a first date?!?

I could see he was going to be a while.  I went to the restroom, wandered around the restaurant, sat back down, played on my phone…he was on the phone with his mother for 30 MINUTES!!!

He hung up and gave an apologetic smile.  “Sorry.  I hadn’t talked to her in a while.”

I raised my eyebrow.  “When was the last time you talked to her?”

“Yesterday.”

I smiled sweetly.  “That’s okay.  I only drove five hours to see you.”

I think he got it.  We talked for a few minutes; he paid the bill and gave me a hug goodbye.  He texted a few times over the next week but I didn’t bother to answer back.

Maybe I am too insistent on good manners, but I put a lot of stock on how dates treat me.  If they are rude or negligent on the little things in the beginning, that tells me I can’t trust them with bigger things—namely, my heart.  Am I being too picky?  I don’t think so.  I don’t think it’s too much to ask for a date to not play Sudoku while I talk to him, tell me what my IQ is or talk to his mama when I drove so long to see him.  It seems common sense to me, but clearly not to them.

Oh, well.  On to greener pastures!  Just don’t take a call from yo’ mama when on a date with me!

Habemus Papem—From South of the Border!!!

I am not a practicing Catholic any more, but I still follow what goes on in the Church.  I mean, I was educated by them for 13 years, my whole family still practices and I even tried my hand at being a nun.  Just because I stopped going to mass does not mean I don’t care.

That’s why I was just as surprised as anyone else last month when Benedict XVI announced his retirement.  I mean, come on…you are pope until you die.  No one has voluntarily bowed out in like 700 years, but I think I understand why.  I would guess Ratzinger was just tired and carrying the weight of 1 billion plus souls and thought in his heart of hearts someone could do the job better than he.  Frankly it was a good decision and though he wasn’t the best pope, I wish him well.  Oh yeah that leads to another point…he came right after John Paul II who was one of the awesomest popes ever.  Really, how can you top an act like that?  That would be like having U2 be the warmup act when the main event is Air Supply.

So the new guy is from Argentina.  Jorge Mario Bergoglio has already bucked several trends that I find promising.  He is a lot of firsts—first non-European pope in 1200 or so years, first pope from the Americas, first pope to be named Francis…But what I like best is that as archbishop of Buenos Aires, he eschewed the trappings of his office:  palace, chauffeur-driven limo, housekeeper…Instead he lived in a simple apartment, rode the tram to work and cooked his own meals.  In many cardinal meetings, we quietly sat in the back rows.  He is an intellectual but not to the extreme degree Benedict is and he certainly is not a politician.

Some of his first actions as pope point to this trend continuing.  The night he was elected, he took the bus back to the hotel, he paid his own bill the next day and instead of wearing scarlet, silk and fur as Benedict was known to favor, he just wears the simple white cassock.

I don’t envy him his job for a nanosecond.  The Church in Europe is a non-entity, Church membership is declining in South America and Africa in favor of evangelical Christianity.  The sex scandals and subsequent cover-ups have disenchanted many people.  Still others—this is my biggest personal beef with the Church—are unhappy the Church spends more time preaching morality and what goes on in the bedroom than actually getting out of Rome and into the trenches with the poor and marginalized.  I don’t care who takes contraception, I am bothered gays can’t marry and I don’t like men in dresses in Rome calling the shots.  I do support dedicated teachers in urban schools, people who work in homeless shelters and support immigrants.  I personally think that is where the Church is at her finest and all the social justice she does is AMAZING.

That is why I am so heartened by this quote from one of Francis’ first homilies:

“Oh, how I would like a poor Church, and for the poor.”

Wishing you the best, Francis.  You are in this girl’s prayers.

Worst. First Date. Ever!

It was a few years back.  I was a fresh college graduate who had met a guy online–Yahoo! Personals to tell you how long ago it was–and we agreed to meet in a coffee shop (ironically the exact same café from my second worst first date…Am I seeing a pattern here…?)

We had a mutual interest in politics and history.  About ten minutes into the convo, he cocked his head, looked me straight in the eye and said, “You know, Hitler wasn’t such a bad guy.”

Zuh!!?!?  “How do you figure?”  I asked.

“He was the first elected official to enact animal rights laws.”

Technically this freak wasn’t wrong.  Hitler was dually elected and yes, he was a huge animal lover.  Nazi Germany passed a slew of laws with the welfare of animals in mind.  I myself am a vegetarian and love animals but I said, “Um…six million Jews died during the Holocaust.”

“But I’m talking about animal rights!” he said.

I couldn’t believe my ears.  “Twenty million Russians died!”

“I’m not talking about the War, I’m talking about animals!”

That should have been my cue to leave, but naïve little me stuck around.  I can’t explain why.  Maybe I am too polite for my own good?  Or maybe I was enjoying this train wreck of a date?  I don’t know.  But I stayed.  About ten minutes later, this guy, who had a law and engineering degree said, “Well, I have a genius IQ.  I am a 145.  You’re almost as smart.  I’d put you at about a 135.”

Wow.  That is all I can say.  Just…wow!  I had a 3.91 GPA in college, Phi Beta Kappa, Fulbright runner-up and was entertaining offers from multiple grad schools to get my master’s degree.  But I guess I’m dumb–only a 135!  Derp derp!

About five minutes later he excused himself to the restroom.

I grabbed my purse.  I ran.  As fast as my legs would carry me.  Out the door.  Away from that psycho.

I got a pissy email later that evening.  Why did you run out on me?  I thought we had such good chemistry and were really making a connection!  I don’t understand…Well, have a nice life, I guess.

True story, ladies and gents.  I wish I could say I was making this shit up, but you can’t make up this level of insanity.  And that was my worse.  Date.  Ever.

The Second Worst First Date I’ve Ever Been On

Dating is fun.  You get to meet new people and best case scenario, you’ve met your soulmate.  Worst case, you’ve made a new friend.

Bullshit.  I hear this all the time in blogs, articles, TV shows, books, whatever.  It’s a bunch of horse hockey.

If I was honest, I would admit that dating can be fun.  I love the butterflies in the stomach, the heart racing, forgetting to eat, mooning around like a calf…Yeah, it isn’t so bad.

Too bad it mostly sucks.

Case in point:  I met a man at a dinner party a month ago.  He was witty, easy to talk to, fun to be around.  I made sure I was looking foxy.  I was charming, witty and equally easy to be around.  Though I slipped my number in his bag, he got my email through mutual friends.  After two or three weeks of talking, texting and flirting like crazy I proposed meeting at a local coffee shop.  He readily agreed.

I was nervous as hell all day.  I was hoping I looked good enough, that he’d enjoy my company and this would be the first of many dates.

I got to the coffee house about 30 minutes before he did.  I ordered a hot cider and found an old newspaper.  I completed the crossword puzzle and he gave me a ring.  “I can’t find a parking space.  Want me to pick you up and you can come with me to the park?”

What the FUCK kind of question is that?!  Do I want to hang out with him while he parks?  NO!!!  “I’ve already ordered,” I said incredulously.

“I’ll be 10 minutes, then,” he grumbled.

Whatever.  I settled back in and read some of the paper.  I had just done the first two or three squares of the Sudoku puzzle, an activity I particularly loathe but desperately needed something to do, when he came in.  I laid the paper aside and gave him my full attention.

I don’t even remember how he brought it up.  The first thread of the conversation wasn’t the weather, how we were doing or how work was.  He began our date conversation with, “So did you know when I was 16 I had a near-death experience in a car wreck?”

Um, this is not first date convo.  Now, I’ve danced with the grim reaper myself, and unfortunately more than once.  But I sure as hell don’t need to be talking about it on a date, let alone a first date.  Talk about a Debbie Downer!!!

Trying to keep the conversation light, I asked why he had so much trouble parking.  His answer, “Well, my car doesn’t exactly go in reverse.”

Huh.  He hadn’t taken off his coat or ordered, and I asked if he was going to have coffee.  “No, I don’t like coffee,” was the answer.  I mentioned there was tea, cider, hot chocolate…any number of beverages.  He just sat there.

It was pretty awkward.  He was actually very hard to talk to because I didn’t get his jokes, he spoke to softly, and he didn’t laugh when I cracked jokes.  I could see early on it was going to be one of those cases of people clicking in a group but going nowhere when they were alone.

Still, I tried to keep the conversation going for 20 minutes when he grabbed the paper off the next table and started doing the Sudoku puzzle I began!

“Why are you doing that?” I asked, amazed at his lack of social graces.

“You started it, I want to finish it,” he answered.

“I hate Sudoku.  I was just waiting for you.”

“I like it.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing!  I tried to joke about it, but I wasn’t kidding when I said, “Do you know what is more boring than actually doing Sudoku?  Watching someone do it!”

That didn’t faze him.  He took the next 15 minutes and finished the damn thing, even though I said, “I’m pretty sure Dante’s seventh level of hell isn’t a two-faced Satan eating Brutus and Judas for all eternity; it is watching someone do Sudoku.”

He didn’t get it.  Whether he really wanted to do the puzzle, it was a coping technique for how nervous he was or I was that bad of a date…there is NO EXCUSE for tuning me out like that.  I thought I certainly deserved more attention than that, and I didn’t want to be around someone who had such pathetic manners.

Mercifully the date ended 45 minutes after it started because I had a pre-arranged girls’ night out.  We stood outside awkwardly.  No hug, no handshake, no “I’ll call you.”  Nothing.  I crossed the street and we walked two blocks on opposite sides of the street in silence.

My girlfriends and I had a good laugh over “Sudoku Boy.”  I haven’t heard from him in two weeks and I think it’s safe to assume I never will.  I’m fine with that.  This guy, for all his charm, humor and wit, depressed me.  He admitted he had no drive and couldn’t understood why I work three jobs, volunteer, blog and I am writing a book.  He said he was “happily drifting through life.”  I think that is profoundly sad.  I can’t stand the social company of someone who doesn’t have irons in the fire or at the very least supports the fact that I do.  It is a pity this date was so epically awful but tune in for my next post.  I’ll tell you about the WORST first date I ever had J