Let the Wheels Come Off

Last night I really wanted a haircut. Unfortunately, I didn't leave work in time. So I decided to color it instead and went to the local CVS.

Well, everyone in Mableton who was over 70 and owned a car the size of a tank decided they needed something from the same store. Already raining, 4 of the spaces were covered in water. You couldn't park there unless you wanted to have water up to your ankles when you got out. Then there were not one, not two, count 'em FOUR spaces where someone in an Escalade or a KING CAB or a HUMMER couldn't manage to park in one spot, but in two. That's a dozen spots absorbed by stupidity. Take another four as handicapped spots and your options become extremely limited. Man, I hate those huge cars.

I got my color, and I colored my hair, but the next day wasn't much better. It boils down to this: I have people who have gotten so used to my babysitting services that they forward issues to me when they don't even know what the issues are anymore. I'm not the BIG GUN, no. I'm not Sales, afterall. I'm not signing the contracts. This must be why I feel like I'm steering the cruise ship from the BACK rather than the front.

It is time to steer my own boat. I'm going to start with my own bike. This is the Diamondback Serene Citi 26" Women's Comfort Bicycle. It's not a mountain bike. It's not a roadster. It has a seat for my butt size. It only has 15 gears. I'm getting the large, 17-inch frame. And next payday, I'm going to ask Amazon to mail it to me, with free shipping. And I'm going to ride it, and it's going to teach me how to steer everything I do from the front, instead of from the back.

Yay, Technology.

--Laura

stop drop and rumble

My cousin was a cheerleader in school. So was her younger sister. I guess it makes sense that as an adult, she would volunteer to be the cheerleading coach for her youngest daughter?

Welcome to the south. My cousin's daughter is on the far left, the one who rushed the tempo on the part where she announced her name.

Time for a Bike

One thing the fitness bootcamp has taught me: I'm not a runner. The running I've done for Ken shreds my knees. But I enjoy walking, and I enjoy being outside. So now that I'm debt free, it's time for a bike.

Try to tell that to Sears. I go there to have a look at the bikes, and there are none in stock. Dozens of treadmills. No bikes. I know, get it from Craigslist, right? But seriously, I want a bike I can return if something's wrong with it. What's the point of a store that you can't make an impulsive bicycle purchase?

Two Weeks of Inactivity

I mentioned earlier that I paid off my debt Friday. I thought it worth mentioning again. To do that, I made a triple payment this month. This didn't bring me down to Zero again, but it did impact my savings. This means I have two weeks to kill before I can start building a savings account with my own money - money I owe to no one else but myself.

get the lead out - retiring the debt

Hello. My name is Laura, and I am debt free. I am a rock star.

Random Things

It's amazing how wonderfully helpful people can be when you ask.

The Meltdown begins

My fitness instructor finally made me cry today.

You may be asking yourself, Did I know Laura had a fitness instructor? Well, I do. His name is Ken. He reminds me of Louis Gossett Jr., in An Officer and a Gentlemen. For example, this picture is hauntingly familiar.

In September, I joined his six-week fitness bootcamp. Five women were supposed to join. Two women showed and one was me. For those of you who've never done this, and in fact never considered it, I can give you this insight: It hurts.

Before our arrival, we were told to do three things. Hydrate. Bring weights. Eat a breakfast with protein and carbs. Unfortunately, because I was worried about throwing up, I ate 2 hardboiled eggs and no carbs. This will become important later in the story.

The first week began with The Assessment. Okay Ladies, in two minutes please, do as many pushups as you can do. Now, in two minutes do as many situps as you can do. Next, jump rope! Now, jumping jacks!

I know, if you're doing the math, you realize this was 8 minutes long. Pitiful. Okay Ladies, that was an assessment of your current fitness level. We're now ready for the workout. Mind you, I knew that was coming. I just didn't want it to come so soon after dying. And so we ran around the track twice. And jumping jacks. And jump rope. And weights. At this point, I should explain that I was praying for death, and happy for a break from lifting my feet high enough to walk. That feeling died once we started. Remember how I had only eaten 2 hardboiled eggs, with no carbs? Right. I softly dropped the weights and sat down on my knees. Ken was immediately at my side.

Fight through the pain, Laura. Don't cheat yourself.

I'm not in pain, I answered. I'm fainting. And I explained, in detail, what was going on behind my eyes, and that I hadn't actually eaten the multi-grain waffle with a smear of peanut butter as I had claimed earlier. He looked down at me for a second, then said, Well, okay. You're done.

Of course, that was a lie. Because after the weights were over, he wanted us to run sprints. Remember, there were only two there, so us meant me.

Today was our 4th week. It was cold when I arrived. Real cold. My friend was ahead of me and had walked the track already but complained she couldn't get warm. So I joined her, and decided I was going to run it. For the first time, I made it all the way around without stopping. Ken saw us. He was walking up when we finished.

That's great, ladies. We need to do it three more times. Mind you, my brain interpreted that as One Down, Two to Go.

So when I finished the third loop, I was tired but pleased. Ken was not. One more time, Laura. I explained my interpretation of his instruction. I wasn't here, so it didn't count.

I did that last loop, but that had started us out on the wrong foot. Because today was a lot like last week, only we did more of it, and we did it longer. And he didn't just tell us we were going to do more, he lied us into more.

Okay Ladies, we're doing planks. Holding for 15 seconds. 15. 14. 13. 13. 13. 13.

You're stuck! I yell.

Okay Ladies, we're doing one more rep of weights. We do this. Okay Ladies, one more. Huh?

So I cried. (In case you're wondering, this does not get you out of sprints).

I'm a libra. Please don't lie, even when I'm having an emotional meltdown. Thanks.

--Laura

get the lead out - separating the women from the mice

I have great news. I will retire my debt in October, about a month sooner than expected.
This goal has been on my mind so long, I'm not sure what I will obsess about now!

That's not precisely true. I know what I will obsess about. The truth is this: I'm now officially in freak out mode. I'm coming to the point in my preparations where I must deal with NEW challenges. Help!

The first time I moved to Colorado, I was called there, by a college acceptance letter. Once I got that letter, I prepared financially and physically. When I arrived, I had a room, a job and a task waiting for me.

When I moved to Atlanta, I had a job waiting for me. Atlanta was never a location I'd have picked for myself, but it was a road out of the small Georgia town I didn't want to become my home. I was expecting it to springboard me into OTHER opportunities. I've learned the hard way that if you don't like where you live, you won't enjoy the way you live either.

This time feels completely different. There's no acceptance letter calling me, for one. There's no snug ugly dorm room. There's no job. I'm not Expected.

Why can't I be Expected? Imagine me saying that with a little whiny kid voice and a pouty lip. See, I've arrived at Big Girl Grownup territory. I'm not moving because I've been Called or because someone is looking out for me. I'm moving because it is what I want for myself, because I want to like where I live and what I do. I haven't been called there. I'm trying to buy my own ticket and get a ride on the bus, arriving in town Completely Unexpected.

For more than a year, my debt stood in the way. By the end of the month, it will be gone. Am I happy? Of course, I am proud of myself. I'm probably in the best financial condition I've ever been. It took skimping to make progress without raises, bonuses or cost of living increases, to pay down a debt and to build some savings along the way. I did that during a recession.

How could I not be proud of myself? Let me share that you can be terrified and proud of yourself at the exact same time.

So what's the next step? Rent the house first, move once I find a renter? Scramble around looking for a job once I arrive? I have friends who did that. They made it. Should I try to find work first, then scramble around looking for a renter? I could try that too. Should I just move, then scramble looking for work, a place to live and a renter? I could do that too.

I don't know the answer. I know searching for work long distance is going to be challenging. I know finding a new place to live is going to be challenging long distance. But it's all going to be a challenge, so prioritizing it is just a mental exercise.

So, anyone hiring? Anyway, look forward to the end of the month -- I will post a pic of the $0 balance on my card!

--Laura

get the lead out - part XI

It's Sunday. The end of my vacation. Meals are prepared for next week, laundry is done and folded, ready for the next week as well.
This week I cleaned my backyard, getting ready for the fall, getting ready for renters when the time is right. I will post some pictures later on. I've got a rather enormous burn pile to ignite, but I would like to clear up a minor case of poison ivy I got removing lots of vines and plants from the back of my fenceline.
I didn't accomplish everything I wanted to accomplish. We had 2 rain soaked days (like we need anymore). When the sun came out, some tasks were hampered by the wet ground. I wasn't digging dirt, I was digging mud, and actually broke a shovel handle.
I wonder sometimes if this makes me too ungirly. I guess it would be more attractive to try weeding in a dress, or feign helplessness and get someone stronger to do it while I brought him iced tea. Is that what I should do? Men complain that women don't like to get their hands dirty doing chores, that they would much rather be getting their hair and nails done. But when we are capable of doing some heavy lifting, it's unattractive somehow.
We're apparently supposed to be handy without getting grimy.
I don't understand it. So I'm going to bed. I'm tired.

--Laura

milestone

I turned 39 years old. Friday. It was a good day. My 39th year promises to be interesting.

--Laura

the big sit

You have to love this.
The 15th Annual Big Sit! will take place on Sunday, October 11th, in backyards and National parks all over the country.
It is sponsored by Swarovski Optik, and hosted by Bird Watcher’s Digest (a magazine I don't subscribe to, in case anyone was wondering what I'd like for Christmas), and the New Haven Bird Club.
The Big Sit! is an annual, international, noncompetitive birding event. It's free, but there are contests available to teams who register. Every team that observes this year's "Golden Bird" could win $500. The golden bird is chosen AFTER the event -- after all teams submit their lists, the bird is randomly chosen from the total list of all birds spotted. And if your circle listed seeing the bird, the circle will be put into a drawing.
Some people have called this event a "tailgate party for birders." Today there are Big Sit! circles all over the world, including Guatemala, India, the Netherlands, England, Vietnam, and New Zealand.
The simplicity of the concept makes The Big Sit! so appealing. Find a good spot for bird watching -- preferably one with good views of a variety of habitats and lots of birds. Next you create a real or imaginary circle 17 feet in diameter and sit inside the circle for 24 hours, counting all the bird species you see or hear. That's it. Find a spot, sit in it, have fun.
However, in past years, Bird Watcher's Digest has encouraged bird clubs to use The Big Sit! as a fundraiser, by organizing a Big Sit team and collecting pledges for each species they tallied. If you visit their website, listed above, you can even find sample pledge forms to assist in that effort. It would be a great way to raise money for conservation or a special project. And the nice thing is, if it's ideally situated, you could even do this in your own backyard.
Being this movement originated in the Northeast, when you view the list of registered clubs, the states with the highest numbers tend to be in the New England states. For comparison, Georgia only has three registered clubs. Colorado only has four.
I think next year, Colorado may just increase their numbers by at least 1. I think it would be something I can look forward to hosting in my new home state.

--Laura