Friday, July 22, 2005

Give up if

Things in my head are finally settling down. I’ve resolved myself to the lack of housemate. I’ve resolved myself to the idea of selling my house and buying something somewhat smaller and newer. I’ve resolved myself to the fact that I may struggle financially a little until I get the house sold.

But I’ll be okay.

It’s interesting, I was talking to one of my dearest friends yesterday and we were discussing how much it costs just to live. She and her husband have a combined income that is nothing to sneeze at and they experience the same financial woes as any of the rest of us.

My salary is nothing to snub your nose at either, yet I find myself wondering what it is I’m doing wrong that I’m not getting ahead like I used to. In all honesty, I beat myself up over it. It must be me. How is it possible to make that much money and still feel strained.

Then I talk to someone like my friend who experiences a similar curiosity and I realize it isn’t me. It’s this shitty economy. I’m not doing anything any differently now than I did before. Someone suggested to my friend that she shop at less expensive stores. But you get to a point in your life where you establish yourself and your lifestyle and who wants to turn back the hands of time five years? Not my friend and definitely not me.

I mean, sure I could buy a cheaper tequila than Patron Silver. But I prefer not to. Fact of the matter is, if I can’t buy Patron then I don’t want to drink (hush, Hot Toddy). Though Sauza Hornitos doesn’t suck in a pinch.

Besides, I can show restraint.

For instance, the other day I was in the liquor store and there on the top shelf I saw it… It was a thing of beauty. I stood there like a kid who’s 4’ tall looking at the top shelf of candy I couldn’t reach. My head tipped back, mouth slightly open, staring, curious and in awe. I was there to pick up whiskey and never expected to be lured by its beauty and power.

It was the biggest bottle of Patron I’ve ever seen. I wanted to touch it and hold it. It had to be mine. I’m a woman of reason (most of the time) and I know that right now is not the time to be paying $109 for a bottle of Patron Silver. But there it sat calling my name. It was as though there was a light from the heavens illuminating it. I could hear angels singing. I must have it, I thought to myself. It shall be mine…someday.

And there’s the restraint to which I was referring. Ordinarily I would have bought it and not even batted an eye.

I'm sure an angel wept as I walked away.

I could also shop somewhere besides Nordstrom but I can’t buy off the rack anywhere else because I have such a long inseam and am tall, so why bother. I may not have shoes to go with every outfit, but the shoes I *do* own are the best there are.

On a different note, Auburn Aries has returned home from two weeks at her Dad’s. In as much as I enjoy my grown up time and taking full advantage of it, I’m glad she’s home. All my the routines are in place once again. And, once again, I’m hearing those little things only Aries can say.

AA: Tomorrow is the field trip to OMSI. I need to bring a lunch in a paper bag, not in my lunchbox. And I have to wear pants or shorts and sneakers. And I can bring money if I want to buy something but I don’t have to. And about the lunch bag thing. The reason for that is because I’m a really good forgetter and I won’t remember to bring my lunchbox home.

AP: A really good forgetter, huh? That's just funny.

AA: Well, at least I know myself.

Yeah, she should, considering she forgot (lost) an expensive Columbia coat at the beginning of winter. Oh and then there’s the crocheted poncho-thing she forgot (lost) and the library book I had to pay for because she forgot to return it (which we found this summer in her nightstand). And then there’s the brand new sneakers she forgot at her Dad’s – I had to buy her another pair.

So I sent her on her way with her lunch in a bag. Not any ol’ bag, but a Nordstrom bag. I put her name on the bag so that it read, Auburn Nordstrom Aries. Even she got a kick out of that (yes, I shop for her there too – (hush Ms Karma).

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