Thursday, July 30, 2009

let's have a party

when the phrase "let's have a party" is mentioned in this household, it doesn't mean we are hitting up the liquor cabinet. it doesn't mean we are inviting our friends over, or turning up the music, or any of that. our kind of parties happen in the a.m., when the sun is peeking through the windows and the pets are eagerly waiting to be released from their captivity in the garage. all you need for a good party here is reading material, freshly-brewed coffee, and as many groggy family members as possible. the sound of the coffee beans grinding gets our juices flowing as we slyly reach for our favorite section of the morning paper. i usually surrender the sports section to my dad first-that's just the kind of self-sacrificing daughter i am. we all rotate the paper around like the act is somehow part of our evolutionary past...a behavior passed down from our earliest ancestors. there are only two things that can ruin a party. the first is not having coffee from the get-go; however, since coffee in this household is as vital as the next fix to an addict, this rarely (if ever) happens. and the second thing that can absolutely ruin a good party-especially if discovered after a party has already been set in motion-is being out of half-and-half. oh the humanity!unless one of us is determined enough to salvage a celebration, the party will either be terminated altogether or continued with unsightly consequences. these consequences involve the options of either having coffee with no cream or some made-up concoction of 2% milk and water. both are not fun-for the palette or the individual-for that person will remember starting off their morning with a bad cup of coffee the remainder of their day. so there you have it...another glimpse into my boomeranger mornings.

Friday, July 24, 2009

you really start to miss the morning paper when your mom forgets to pay the bill.

Friday, July 17, 2009

can someone please tell me what constitutes a 'martini'?

let me tell you a story: my plans to nurse a fresh cup of coffee and the new martha stewart magazine are crushed when i receive a text that i need to be somewhere in half an hour. i was expecting to leave the house no sooner than an hour from then so i knew i had to move my ass off the comfortable chair and get moving. luckily, i had already showered and picked out what i was going to wear for the evening. the unlucky part was that my friends had unexpectedly decided to catch a bite to eat on the way to the restaurant where we were going to have cocktails and listen to a band play. oh no, you're probably wondering to yourself...god forbid having to catch a bite to eat at a cool, hip restaurant! you must have forgotten that for an unemployed boomeranger like myself, this was precisely the unlucky part. considering my economic situation, i make it a point to plan when i eat out; thus, any "surprise" dining experience automatically triggers a negative emotional reaction, accompanied by a vision of my future-self surrendering my debit card. let's get back to the story. i had a decision to make: either suck it up and go out to dinner or make something quick at home and save a little money in the process. well you shouldn't be surprised to find out that i chose the latter. within five minutes i had whipped up (and scarfed down) a simple salad with fresh tomatoes and turkey, all the while gnawing on a block of cheddar cheese which i thought would save me the time of having to (gasp) slice it. not my proudest moment. anyways, i leave the house feeling good about sticking to my plan of just buying drinks that night. after sipping on some beer while watching my friends eat their burgers (i don't recommend watching your friends eat, but sometimes you just gotta do it) we left the restaurant and headed to a ritzy bar for half-price martinis and good music. the drink menu listed several 9-dollar martinis and then a couple other drink options below that, one of which caught my eye: the arnold palmer. sign me up. this baby would only cost me $3.50 after the discount and did i mention that i love sweet tea vodka? the drink was so tasty that i ordered a second round. then the bill comes. here's the funny part: my drink wasn't technically a martini, so i end up having to pay fifteen bucks with tax. F. where was my head!? i was under the impression that i would only be parting with a hamilton and now i am the one with the biggest check. i wasn't even able to leave a 20% tip since my account had about eighteen dollars left (thank god i checked the balance before i left). so there you have it. i wanted to have a leisurely dinner but ended up shoving food down my face and later watching my friends eat. i wanted to enjoy some half-priced martinis but ended up with a larger bill than i intended. what's the lesson here? is it that life is ironic and uncontrollable, and no amount of planning can change that? or is it that i need to abandon my thrifty ways for the sake of my social life? in the grand scheme of things, will that fifteen bucks on martinis and ten bucks on beer make a difference? certainly not. i know that once i generate some income i will be less focused on inconsequential purchases; however, right now, it's hard for me not to foresee where each dollar is being spent. it is quite exhausting to tell you the truth, but life is relative, and i am aware of how well off i am compared to so many. right now it's just tricky finding the balance between frivolity and necessity from a zero cash flow standpoint, which is why i'm positive another story like this one will be told later on...

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

good things come to those who wait

my sister commented that my last post was too "whiny"...i apologize folks. i just needed to blow off some steam from that evening. you will be happy (i think) to know that the tone of this post is much more upbeat. today, my parents and i finally pulled the trigger on purchasing a car! our dear car salesman, tj, who i'm guessing was around the age of 70, should be counting his lucky stars right about now for the three of us deciding to pull into his little lot. we were exhausted, hungry, and ready to give up and hit the rode when my dad thought to take a little detour. that's when we spotted her: a 2004 red ford fusion with a breathtaking (cough) cloth interior. my dad was practically drooling over the fact that it was made by an american company, one which hasn't asked for a bailout from the government. hearing the gas mileage really put him over the top. it impressed me too, but i was far from a kid in a candy store. anyhow, as we were filling out the paperwork with good 'ol tj, i realized that getting this car over a more glamorous and expensive option was the right choice. yes, i would love to drive a rugged land rover with a shiny black paint job and light tan leather seats (then make people refer to it as the "black knight"), but i also don't want to become close aquaintences with my neighborhood gas pump. and let's be real for a second: my parents would never buy me this car, unless perhaps it was born around the time i was born. but that's besides the point really, because up until today i still had it in my head that this was the kind of car i wanted right now. not anymore. i want to earn that car on my own. and when that day comes it will feel absolutely incredible.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

one for the record books

my dad told me that i would surely have a 4th of july that would rank worse than the one i had this past weekend...and to call him when that time came. this is something everyone wants to hear after a holiday celebration. let me fill you in on the events leading up to this father-daughter moment. on the wednesday leading up to july 4th, i still had no promising plans. not having a mode of transportation for myself excluded me from participating in activities beyond a 20-mile radius. my last hope was to latch on to my brother's plans but he assured me that he would be working and thus have nothing going on. so what do i do? tag along with my parent's. i mean, i've already rang in the new year a couple times with them and their friends and not had the urge to kill myself in the process...why would this be any different? lesson #1: no boomeranger should ever commit themselves to his or her parent's gatherings without a getaway plan. i found myself in a "crowd" of about 15 strangers and at that moment knew that the evening would be nothing less than painful. these moms and dads started grilling me about my lifestyle and volleyball ambitions. sure, some of the questions directed at me stemmed from pure curiosity, but i could pick out the judgemental and cautionary tone from their voices. some of my favorites from the evening were, "So what's your fall-back plan?" and "What are you doing for health insurance?" yah, lady, i really came to this party to sit here and defend my passion to you and your asshole friends. these are totally inappropriate questions to be asking a recent graduate whom you have literally just met, not to mention on a day like this. i don't expect you or your friends to understand the path i'm taking, and don't think for a second that i give a rat's ass what you think of it. thanks for making my evening comfortable and enjoyable...i really enjoyed the stimulating conversation. needless to say, this 4th of july will be forever filed in the "crapshoot folder"of my past, and i hope that i don't have to make that call to my dad for a very, very long time.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

band-aid

tensions are rising in the household...did i mention that between the three of us we have only one car to drive? this usually means that if your plans are not discussed with all parties before daybreak, we have a problem. at least one--sometimes two--of us will be forced into what we now call "house arrest" (you get the picture). i recall one such sentencing where my mom ended up having to walk half a mile in the middle of a hot summer's day to get medicine for her aggravating ear ache. anyhow, we thought that maybe it would be a wise idea to put a band-aid on this whole situation...you know, to buy us some more time while we search for a new car. so in an effort to stop the bleeding, we now have a family friend's piece of crap in our driveway. lets just say that this is the automobile on the road that can't seem to get laid. this morning, my mom rushes off to work (late as usual) and discovers that the car won't start. engine dead. so there goes my dad out the door, lexus keys in hand, and fuming all the way, for this was an unexpected carpool trip that he is not happy aboutl. i guess it's time to change the band-aid.