Keeping it Real for New Year's

New Year's.  A time to reflect upon the good and bad moments from the previous year and set new goals for the upcoming year. 

Now it's time for what I like to call "Keeping it Real."  What good things happened in 2013 and what things happened that still to this day irritate you so much that your negative feelings will probably continue irritating you long after 2013 closes?  What are your resolutions that sound good on paper, but realistically won't be followed too long after the month of January?  You know it's true.  I know it's true.  Even fancy retailers know it's true which is why they only discount exercise equipment and diet foods for the month of January.  Just saying.

Totally awesome things that happened in 2013 (and that even rhymes):

• Joe and I got married and it was exactly what I pictured and wanted.  I purposely did everything myself so if something screwed up I could only blame myself and I wouldn't have to physically harm another human.
• I was pleased that my bridezilla moments were few and far between.  I imagined myself  to be quite worse and the only people that truly witnessed how bad I could possibly be were Joe, my mom, my Thailand florist, and the catering manager...whoops!
• The cabana that we rented in Vegas was pretty darn sweet and I felt rich and important.
• I am finally pleased with the decorations of my house.  It took several trials, some gift cards, and returning a few wedding gifts to make it look totally awesome.
• Joe ended 2013 with an awesome career boost that will hopefully turn me into a "Real Housewife" sooner rather than later.

Things that happened in 2013 that I will continue to be irritated about for an undisclosed amount of time and/or for the rest of my life:

• The people that didn't come to my bridal shower or wedding reception and didn't tell us.  Last time I checked, you were given sufficient notice (five weeks, but who's counting).  Don't "say" you are going to come and not show up.  Talk is cheap.  Pretending like it never happened is even worse.   Unless you were out of town, dead, or attending a funeral, you should have been there. You may have forgotten, but we haven't. 
• In the heat wave the first week of July, our central air bust and one of our huge trees collapsed on a power line.  We waited until 2 a.m. for Rocky Mountain Power to tell us that they can't help us.  Did I mention that I was getting married in a few days?  They didn't care.  Then some old man came and "fixed" our central air unit and took our money, when really he didn't fix a darn thing.  I hope you enjoy your sixty dollars.  It was a good thing it happened when it did or I would have gone Judge Judy on your behind.
• Joe and I have grown out of some of our friendships with people while reconnecting with others.  It's kind of sad to see how important a person can be one year, and the next, completely different.  I guess that's the way it works.  Insert The Lion King's "Circle of Life" song here, although no one is dying, or a lion, or Elton John.  Ok, you get my point.
• Joe's shift kept getting cut and cut.  Thank goodness for the turn of events.
• Our soaring credit card bill is enough to cause ulcers in cats.  Hopefully by our ten-year anniversary it will be paid off.  And let's not discuss my student loan.

And now looking ahead for 2014:

I'm not going to make lofty goals because I will be embarrassed come this time next year and nothing has changed (especially in the exercise department).  Speaking of exercise, if you want to set that goal, that is awesome.  I just really don't want to read about it on Facebook.  Which means, I will either have to block you, you can delete me, I can get a better attitude and deal with it, or you can write about something far more interesting.   But in the keeping it real department, I'm sure you will just continue posting the crap, I will read it, make fun of it, and move it on along. In ten years, you will look great, and I will be a sagging mess in which you can say, "Remember when you made fun of me for exercising?" 

Ok, here's the list:

• I hope to put a significant dent in paying off the credit card.
• I hope Joe continues to love his job and do well.  SHOW ME THE MONEY!
• I want to go on a trip.  Like a real one.  Wendover doesn't count even though they have the best beds.  And when we do go to Wendover, I hope I don't get food poisoning and end up in the Dell convenient store again.  Heck, maybe we can even win money this time.
• I want to have an epic birthday/anniversary/Joe's birthday celebration.  Hopefully with a bunch of strangers in a location that isn't Utah.
• I hope the crow's feet will stay at fourteen if I continue to moisturize twice a day.
• Bravo should seriously consider firing Brandy and Carlton from Beverly Hills and Kenya from Atlanta.  Vanderpump Rules is seriously a new low for Bravo, but I can't help but watch it.  Maybe if ABC would pick better Bachelors and Bachelorettes, I could watch that instead.
• I think Katy Perry and Kelly Clarkston should take a year off  (or twenty).  I find them both really annoying and I don't give a hoot about what they are wearing or where they had Sunday brunch.
• Snoop Dogg should come back in concert on a day that is not a school night and in a venue that isn't some former night club in Park City crap.  And while I think it's great that Snoop isn't doing horrible things or rapping about these horrible things, I think his concert should be his greatest hits and he should wear his house shoes just like mine.
• I hope Coca-Cola will be on sale more than it was this past year.  I'm not supposed to drink it anyway, and having it sometimes be up to $1.50 is just down right wrong.

And now that I've reached the end of the list, this is where I need to say I will be a better wife and cook dinner more than three times a week, be a nicer daughter, a more understanding friend, a patient teacher, reduce the sarcasm, stop swearing (even though I think that if you izzle it it's not swearing), and look for the silver lining in all things. 

So yeah...


Happy New Year's!










 
   

He's Kind Of a Big Deal

Here's to taking chances...again.

Joe did it again.  He is officially the luckiest person I know (and also one of the hardest working).
Joe's adventures started in September...

Since last January, Joe has been doing technical support for Verizon.  He worked as a  regular employee for about two weeks, then moved to supervisor, then moved to trainer, then he asked to be a regular employee again because he missed the interaction with customers and his friends.  Joe loved his job.  But then in September, I would come home from work, and Joe would already be home.  "They have cut everyone's hours," he would say.  "I tried to stay as long as I could."  He could see the panic in my eyes.  We both had to work at least full time.  We still had a wedding to pay for.

So his hours were uncertain for the next few weeks.  I didn't have to remind him of our credit card statement; he already knew the dillema we were facing.  And then one night at dinner, I had what I thought to be a brilliant idea.  "What about just going in on your day off and asking your boss for more hours?  Maybe he doesn't know our situation, and if you just talk to him one-on-one, he will see you mean business."  And Joe did.

The month of October, Joe had a regular schedule (thanks to his boss).  What I mean by regular schedule is that he worked full-time, but had to agree to come in whenever to pick up the hours.  His schedule was uncertain, but his paycheck wasn't, and for the time being, we could both accept that.

And then on one of Joe's pick-up days, he was approached with what we both now see as a life-changing opportunity.  His boss (the one that gave Joe a full schedule) approached Joe and asked him if instead of working for a project, he would like to work for the company itself in global technical support.  "Am I guaranteed forty hours?"  Joe asked.  The answer was yes.

Joe was selected along with two managers from the Verizon project to "try out" for the position of global technical support.  In this job, Joe was required to fix all the technical problems that impacted the 1,000 Teleperformance buildings in the world.  This department did everything from forgotten passwords, to servers are down, to an outside source that threatens security.  And they do it all from endlessly watching ten television screens and working simultaneously on two computers.  The major technical support offices are in Salt Lake City and India.

The perks of this job were endless: his own office, working 9-5 Mon-Fri, free drinks, and he gets paid to do something he thoroughly enjoys.  But there were some drawbacks: He was only "trying out" for the job, he was trying out along with two of his very good friends, and the interview process was rigorous.

Not only did he have to take multiple tests on the technical side of things, but he also had to take listening tests, leadership tests, and even tests where he would have to translate a random language into English.  Each day he went to work, he didn't know what they would have in store for him.

Three weeks into the "try out," Joe was asked if he wanted to apply to become the manager of Tier 2.  Tier 2 are those employees who deal with the bigger issues such as broken servers and building threats.  Tier 2 is as high as it goes.  This would mean Joe would be the third guy in the entire world in charge.  The main guy splits his time working in Salt Lake and India, the second guy works in India, and Joe, if hired, would be based in Salt Lake.

His interview lasted three weeks.  He had to be interviewed by every major building in the company including: Salt Lake, New York, the United Kingdom, Mexico, and his sister-city, India.  His tests were more rigorous, but the training and knowledge he acquired along the way was priceless.  The drawback was is that Joe was the "new guy" and he was competing with professionals who had been in this world for years.

It started out with four applying for the job, and then the company narrowed it down to just two: Joe and another guy who was based in Salt Lake.

I would often ask the loaded question, "When do you think they will make a decision?"  Not only did we want to know if he got the manager job, but we just wanted to know if he was going to be in that department permanently because his former Verizon project was dissolved.  "I just don't know what is going to happen,"  Joe would reply.  I could see all of the wheels turning in his head, and they just didn't stop.

On December 16, Joe was told to, "arrive early, we have an announcement to make."  A manager from the UK was supposed to be flying in to meet with Joe, but due to weather, Monday came and went, and no announcement was made.  On Tuesday, Joe was called in to "the big office" and was officially offered the job, not only in the department, but as the manager.  Nearly seven weeks later, Joe found out that he was officially the luckiest guy in the world.  He is now Man #3.  His official title is Tier 2 Global Technical Support Manager.

It only has been about five days, but things have changed a lot.  Joe has to set up a home office, so there is a lot of configuring as to where this home office will be located in our pocket-sized home.  He has two other offices in Salt Lake, one in the Teleperformance building, and one in an undisclosed location (of course, I ask the most questions about this location).  The main boss, now comfortable with the decision, is heading to India early, so that means it's Joe and only Joe in North America for right now.

Joe now has multiple telephones and computers where some travel with him at all times and others remain stationary.  He has an expense account where he just "buy all the things you need to make your transition smoother."  Of course, we could only find one thing he needs: a $29.99 laptop bag!  Yes, we are frugal!  Joe is permanently on call and his hours are all over the place.  He was also told to not dress up and wear a tie.  He is to "blend in" at all times.  The person training him is Man #2 in India, and they have become really good friends in the process.  I told Joe I've never been to India before, and my passport is up-to-date (wink, wink, nudge, nudge).  Joe even told my mom that, "who knows, maybe your daughter will be able to retire early." 

As for his two friends who he originally applied with, one was hired permanently for Tier 1, and the other one is a temp worker, with hopes to be full-time at the beginning of the year.

I asked Joe, "does this mean you're like kind of a big deal now?"  "I don't know," he grumbled.  I'll take that as a yes. Congratulations, Joe!

He's kind of a big deal now.

But it's Christmas...

I begin thinking of Christmas in the summer.  I carefully plan my decorations, my Christmas card, the gifts I give to people usually no later than the week after Halloween.  I don't get annoyed when stores start putting up Christmas decorations early--I am the one immersed in the aisles looking at all of the endless possibilities of turning my house into a Christmas masterpiece.  I love Christmas.

Besides the decorations (which I live for), I love Christmas candy, cookies, treats, gift baskets filled with things you didn't know you knew existed or wanted.  I like the smell of Christmas.  I proudly listen to Christmas music the day after Thanksgiving and have a wide assortment of Christmas CD's.  I truly love everything about Christmas.

I also love(d) the general feeling in the air.  It's Christmas--go see the lights in the freezing cold.  Stay up late watching Elf, or Serendipity, or Home Alone  Take time to experiment with your favorite apple cidar recipe.  Enjoy your family, reconnect with friends.  Have patience.  And most importantly, be kind.

This season began like most.  I was super excited to decorate, to wander around stores aimlessly looking at Christmas decorations, to blast Mariah Carey's "All I Want for Christmas is You."  And then things changed.

People around me were so darn negative.  Drivers seemed more aggressive.  Cashiers didn't ask me if I found everything I needed ok.  Shoppers would shove and leave their children unattended so poor employees had to leave their post and watch them.  My connection with family and friends was limited at best (other than work friends).  Few people around me wanted to do anything Christmas or holiday related. 

But I kept moving.  I planned and executed a Christmas party singlehandedly, sent out a ridiculous number of Christmas cards, searched high and low for just the perfect gifts, and continued to blast Mariah Carey during her better, wild hair/high voice years. 

But then the actions of others got me down as well.  Joe has been pretty sick this season with a variety of things that I don't want to get into.  I would watch him drive through the mess of selfish drivers shaking in pain, attend doctors appointments at 8 p.m. in West Jordan so he wouldn't miss work, and be left with still many unanswered questions.  There were so many instances when I wanted to shake the random person standing next to me and yell, "BUT IT'S CHRISTMAS!" 

But it's Christmas, shouldn't we be respectful, nice, patient, caring, and selfless?  But it's Christmas, shouldn't we help those in need silently without receiving attention?  But it's Christmas, shouldn't we try to reconnect with those we may have lost contact with?  But it's Christmas, can we focus on the time with others rather than the gifts we receive?  But it's Christmas, can we set aside our drama and focus on what really matters?

After a week of putting the holiday I carry so near to my heart on hold, I got in my car on Thursday and just started driving to release my frustration.  But it's Christmas, I'm not going to let another moment pass without celebrating the season I love most!  Joe called and asked where I was because it was after 8 p.m.  Of course, I ended up in the holiday aisle of Shopko, just looking at all the wonderful things that to me, Christmas possesses.  It's amazing how much better I felt looking at silly little ornaments and hearing Bing Crosby on the loudspeaker. 

That silly little instance is how I took Christmas back.  I light my trees as soon as I get home from work and I don't turn them off until bedtime.  I blast Christmas music in my car.  I go to random stores nearly every day just to look at decorations.  I make Joe drive me around neighborhoods to look at lights.  I watch every childhood Christmas movie I can in a month's time.  I eat more nonsense than my teeth and stomach can bear and still have room for more.

Christmas is the same time every year; don't waste another moment. On December 26, the magic simply disappears. I refuse to spend my season immersed in the poor attitudes of others, the "what if's," or my own self pity.  Christmas is as magical as we make it out to be, and I intend on being great competition to David Copperfield.





From my heart to yours, I wish you a healthy, joyous holiday season filled with memories to last a lifetime.  From the lips of Joe, "don't let anyone ruin your nice time."

Thank you, thank you very much

No excuses.  Just write.

Thank you notes...where are you?  I don't have enough toes and fingers to count how many births, graduations, showers, weddings, birthdays, anniversaries, and general life milestones I've been a part of.  I can count however, how many thank you notes I've received in return.  My thoughts?  It's classless and I don't forget.

So let's get this straight.  You invite people to be part of your "big day" in hopes, and this is true, you will get a big pay out in the form of a nicely wrapped gift from your registry, or at the very least, the ever so valuable gift receipt.  And you don't think you should thank your guests that probably didn't even want to come in the first place?  Give me a break. What about the fact that they got all dressed up and drove for miles and showered you with compliments of, "Oh, he's so cute," or "Wow, your dress is beautiful."  What about considering that maybe your guests worked all day and just wanted something edible to eat, and instead were given cheese cubes and water and ended up going home to cook dinner after your so-called big event?  If that doesn't warrant a thank you note, I don't know what will.

Simply put: If you want people to be part of your big day, thank them...formally.  If you have time to take selfies, post about your daily routines (that really aren't that interesting), and either use or return the items given to you, you have time to thank the person that got those precious gifts for you.
Do you have a piece of paper?  A pen?  The time is now, folks.

It's never too late to put on your big boy pants and take a classier route.  Thank you for reading!




P.S.  It may have taken me 3.5 months, but all the wedding and reception thank you notes are completed....all 160 of them.

Naked and Afraid: A Honeymoon Story

Ok, perverts.  You read the title, clicked eagerly, and here you are at yet another one of my lengthy blogs.  I didn't fool you; Naked and Afraid has a lot to do with our honeymoon, just not what you were expecting.

Part 1: Coco Cabana

Finally, a day just to swim.

We got married on Sunday, and were coming home on Tuesday.  I'm not a fan of "walking the strip" and seeing Joe's Crocs melt on the sidewalk our last day there, so I suggested several days prior that we should "go big, or go home" because afterall, wasn't this our Honeymoon.? The times that Joe and I go on vacation, we usually do something "big" to remember the event.  In Seattle, we went on a night cruise.  In Oakland, we went to an A's game.  It was time to bring out the big guns.

If you recall on my wedding post, I was sobbing to my mother that all I wanted to do was go swimming.  So, you guessed it, we rented a cabana totally Real Housewives style at our hotel for our last day, and that marks as one of the best days I've ever had to date.  I could swim and swim until my heart was content and pretend that I didn't live off of a teacher's salary.

There were two types of cabanas: those for two people and those for eight.  Since Joe's friends and siblings were still in town, we decided to rent the cabana for eight people which came with our own outdoor sitting room, a television, a fridge (fully stocked), a patio, and a pool.  Isn't that what everyone does on their honeymoon: rent a pool to swim with your siblings?

I was the first one there, and was completely soaking in the life of luxury that I will probably never live again.  We ate, we swam, we danced to ridiculous music on the television because we could, we ate all of the free treats, and truly had a ball.

My favorite part of the whole day was when Joe and I started giving out demerits.  Since we invested both a lot of time and money into this day, we wanted everyone to act appropriately.  I think Joe's sister, Nikki, got two demerits, Tommy, his brother, got one, and even his friend, Peter, got one.  And then I started threatening people that if they didn't know how to behave at "our pool," they would have to go to the G.P. pool.  G.P.= General Population pool where the minions (those without a cabana) had to swim amongst the poopy diapers and hairy drains.

I think by the end. each person had threatened at least one other person that they had to go to G.P.  People would just stare at us, and we would laugh and laugh.  Ahhhh, a day to remember..Champi style.

Here are some pictures to capture the event.

Our pool overlooking the G.P. pool.  Suckers.

I had to take a little nap to get my money's worth.

 
Part 2: Naked and Afraid

After our twelve-hour swimming "honeymoon," we had to get back to Utah to plan for the reception.  Several guests were coming from out of town, and there was still much to be done.  Our reception was on Friday, so we decided, that following Sunday, we would spend the night at the Zermatt Resort in Midway, Utah.

On our drive, we realized it was the first time since about ten days prior, that it was just us.  We needed a break, and I was incredibly thankful that we didn't have cell phone service.  We spent the day in Park City, and arrived at Zermatt Sunday night.  It is the one place in Utah that reminds me of Germany.

 

Sadly, we were both exhausted, so we decided to order room service, and of course, I changed into my pajamas.  As I was flipping around television stations, I found the most intriguing show on the Discovery Channel: Naked and Afraid.  It is where two strangers, a male and a female, are dropped off in some remote location in the world, naked, and forced to survive without anything for twenty-one days.  We watched a full episode as we ate our room service, and suddenly, a commercial broke in that said, "You are now watching the Naked and Afraid marathon."  I started squealing like it was the cabana all over again!  Joe insisted that we "explore," so I found myself back in my swimming suit, swimming with a bunch of annoying kids with every pool toy imagineable.  I kept looking at the clock, hoping that Joe's "exploration" would only take an hour, so I would get to see a new episode.  And of course, it worked!

We ended up watching the rest of the marathon that lasted oh, until about 1 a.m, and we came home early the next day because Joe had to work that afternoon.




This was the border in our room.  When I was in Germany, I had something similar, so I had to take a picture.



Just when I thought I needed a midnight snack, Zermatt delivered a nice treat to go along with our marathon.  I, of course, ate one and a half, and Joe just ate a half.

 

Between swimming with the siblings and watching a marathon on the Discovery Channel this is not the typical honeymoon. But then again, I don't think there is anything typical about us.



Fred on Finance

Growing up, I was told never to discuss three things: finance, religion, and politics.  For the most part, I don't unless asked, and I never discuss specifics.  Sometimes, those people with the loudest voice have the least amount to say whether it's due to pure ignorance or lack of experience. But for today's quick lesson with Fred on Finance, I don't possess either.

I am a money person.  I always have been, and I always will be.  Strangers, students, family, and friends, come to Joe and I for money-specific questions.  Some listen, some don't, but it is flattering none-the-less that people ask us for advice.  It's telling us that we are doing something right, and sometimes that acknowledgement is what keeps us pressing forward.

We don't have a lot of money, so how can we advise people on how to manage their own?  It's simple.  The money we do have we are smart with.

When I was eighteen and a freshman in college, I decided to strike upon my independence and move out.  But there was one catch: I had to do this entirely on my own.  I didn't want to borrow money and I didn't want a co-signer on my apartment.  So amidst going to college full-time on scholarship, I also got a full-time job that gave students tuition reimbursement.  In short, I was paid to go to school, and I used that money for my rent and utilities, all without a co-signer.

For the next seven years, I lived in apartments by myself and with roommates.  I managed the little money I had successfully and although some months were slimmer than others, I always had a roof over my head and something to eat.  Even if it was Ramen noodles...again.

And then I entered into a relationship that was abusive emotionally as well as financially.  Everything that I had worked for was gone with a few simple swipes of a credit card by an unauthorized user.  I lost friendships, I lost my apartment, and I lost myself.

So I sucked it up.  I moved home at twenty-five.  Could there be anything more humiliating?  I had debt exceeding $30,000, I was a third year school teacher making $30,000 annually, and I had big ideas to attend graduate school.  There was nowhere to go but up. 

The debt consolidation loans and bankruptcy advice letters started arriving in the mail.  I was the perfect candidate for bankruptcy because it wasn't my fault, right?  Wrong.  No, I didn't authorize the user to use my credit card, however, I firmly believe in tough love.  If I can't be tough with myself, and pay the consequences for my own actions, I couldn't look myself in the mirror ever again.  I didn't want to give up that easily.  I had to make it, and I had to do it all by myself.

So I got another job.  I started in the summer as a bartender full-time, and worked 25 hours a week once school started.  My day began at 5:30 am, where I was at school at 7, since I was the SBO advisor. I would handle all my extra-curriculars until 4:30, change my teacher clothes into my black and dreary bartender uniform in the faculty bathroom, and be ready to start my bartending shift at 5:30 and get home at 12:30 a.m.  Then, rinse and repeat for the next several months.

During the few hours I would set aside for sleep, I would stay awake calculating in my head how long I would have until this terrible debt would be paid off.  I never came to a conclusion other than I had to do it in a year's time.  That is, if it didn't kill me first.

And then a year came.  My last payment, and then cancellation of the evil credit card was made exactly to the date that I had set for myself.  I still have that credit card and I carry it around with me to remind me that I am in control and I will never reach that point again.

So no, I am not a financial advisor.  I have no awards in money managing or foreign bank accounts (save that for Mr. Romney).  But what I do have is a horrific experience that hopefully will prevent others from being in the same situation.

***

 

Cut or eliminate your entertainment budget.  When someone comes to us for advice, the first question I ask is, "how much do you spend going out?"  This includes everything from fast food to movies.  And you guessed it, sometimes I'm told that this happens several times a week!  Eating at home saves tons of money!  Renting movies or watching the television that you are already paying for saves even more!  And that whole excuse of "I have to get out of the house!"  Guess how many things are out of your house and entirely free?  I grew up in a family that only went out to eat on special occasions.  I am proud to say that is still the case.  In fact, I can count how many times I go to a restaurant and a movie each year on my hands!  I guess I see it if you are always going out and always doing something expensive, then your expectations will keep getting higher and higher.  Joe and I look at these times as a rare treat.  We order whatever we want on the menu and appreciate it more because it doesn't occur that frequently.  For one entire year when we were dating, we both cashed in all of our coins.  Between the two of us, we had several hundreds of dollars.  That was our entertainment fund for the year, and once it was gone, it was gone. 

 

Cash only.  If you like sleep as much as I do, then staying up worrying about how you're going to pay off your credit card is not an option.  Buy what you NEED with the money you HAVE.  If your only answer is to put it on a credit card, then don't buy it in the first place.  Joe and I have one credit card between us that wasn't touched until our wedding came.  We paid for the first half of our wedding through cash (the wedding, hotel, and dinner in Vegas) and the second half is on the credit card (reception in Utah).  This is our entire focus and we will not be going on any lavish vacations (which we always paid cash for) until it's paid off.  The only good balance on a credit card is one that begins and ends with a zero.

 

Bills first.  Bills are a priority.  It's hard for me to take someone seriously when they are always going out but yet whining that they don't have any money in their account to pay their gas bill.  My good friend, Jo, who is an expert at finances, pays more on her utilities every month so that when Christmas comes, she doesn't have to make a payment.  If you plan on going on vacation, always pay your bills ahead of time, so you have money to spend on your vacation and you don't have to worry about your electricity being shut off while you're gone!

 

Don't borrow from family/friends.  My motto (kind of going along with the tough-love approach) "I will give you a place to stay or food to eat, but don't ever, ever ask us for money."  I firmly believe that once money starts exchanging hands, the relationship changes, and generally for the worst.  Don't be in a place that you have to ask someone for money.  It's not fair to put them in that situation.  Why should they have to suffer because you can't manage your money?  If you have a bigger heart than me (or at least one that isn't iced over) and you decide to "loan" someone money, consider it a gift.  The chances of you getting it back in a timely matter with the relationship still intact are slim to none.  And besides, if you've seen Judge Judy, you probably won't get it back either because the Plaintiff will say "but I thought it was a gift."

 

Coupons are money.  So you're too lazy to cut out free money on Sunday morning?  Sucks for your wallet.  Between newspapers, online, and mail inserts, there are coupons for nearly everything!  Joe and I use coupons for things that we want instead of what we need.  We NEED milk but we WANT ice cream.  Well guess what, unless there is a coupon for the icecream, we don't buy it. 

 

Separate accounts.  Financial distress is the number one reason couples get divorced.  Person A spends tons of money and Person B has no idea.  When Person B finally takes a look at the finances they get upset and yell at Person A who claims that Person B should have communicated with them the financial situtation in the first place.  The end result?  Divorce and usually a Lifetime movie.  Joe and I have four accounts.  We both have our own checking accounts.  We have one savings and one bills account.  I don't have access to his checking.  He doesn't have access to mine.  Neither one of us touch our savings unless it's to put money in.  We both pay our bills equally.  Once the bills are taken care of, we do whatever we want with the money we earned, or just keep it in our checking.  He doesn't get mad at me for buying an eighth or ninth Christmas tree, I won't get mad at him for taking a picture with Stan Lee at Comicon.  Why?  Because we took care of our bills ahead of time.

 

Live within your means.  A great quote I got from one of my former officers, Courtney, shared, "We buy things we don't need, with money we don't have, to impress people we don't like."  Why do people buy a gigantic house that they are never home to enjoy because they have to work extra hard to afford the mortgage?  Those same people blab about how wonderful their house is, but generally, people are never invited over.  Why?  Because they have no furniture!  Good grief! My house is called Lil Beans for a reason...it's little!  We love having people over to sit on our little furniture, and it even looks extra shiny because dun, dun, dun, it's paid for.

 

Pray for the best, plan for the worst.  Joe and I spent our 4th of July, two days before we left for our wedding in Vegas, in a house that was 96 degrees.  Why?  Our central air pump failed.  When fit hits the shan, can you pay for it?  The wedding was our priority, not the stupid air conditioner.  We paid cash, got it fixed, and were able to concentrate on the most important day of our lives.

 

If you don't learn how to manage money effectively, it will manage you.  Put on your big boy/girl pants and take care of business. Ready?  Go!

 

 

 

 

 



 

You Can't Growl in High School

One of the best teachers I know is female, 5ft, 90 lbs, and has been teaching for over forty-five years.  I am privileged to be able to call her my mentor through WSU.  I was instantly drawn to her because she is everything that great teaching is--love and passion for the students as well as the subject.  She has taught over 10,000 kids in her career and has no immediate plans of calling it quits.  I usually just sit in awe of her as we talk about what we are fixing for dinner, or what flowers to plant in direct sunlight, but one particular story caught my attention and reminded me that no matter how many degrees we have or how long we've been teaching, our students are full of surprises.

My mentor was given a class of nearly all boys, most of which were on a 4th grade reading level.  These were seniors who had been in and out of juvenile detention and needed a remedial English class to graduate.  She had struggled with them since the very first day of school, but one particular day, she was sent over the edge.  The principal called her down to the office to tell her that her mother had passed away.  Why this news was unbearable, she immediately thought that she left this "special" class unattended, so she quickly went back to her classroom.  Upon entering her classroom, she noticed two things on her blackboard: the "B" word and snot smeared all over.  She didn't lose her cool.  She told the students that she was going out into the hall to compose herself and when she returned, her blackboard better be clean and they better be ready to learn.  Two minutes later, when she walked back in, they were.  Since then, these students have grown to be fabulously successful adults (now in their fifties) because she was one of the first adults to believe in them.  She was their favorite teacher, and they were her favorite students.  This class meets at least once a year to catch up and laugh about the chalkboard incident. And as you probably guessed, their favorite teacher is always in attendance.

This is my ninth year teaching.  There are so many great teachers at our school doing fabulous things with their students, I am constantly learning from them.  But one thing in particular that I feel that my peers learn from me is my classroom management.  I'm little, I look like a student, I'm female, and when I started teaching, I was barely twenty-four years old.  Everyone warned me that these kids would and could walk all over me if I let them.  I took those words, accepted the challenge, and made it my mission to control my classroom seamlessly. 

Sure, there were bumps along the way.  Some classes are better than others, some years are just more successful for reasons unknown.  I had the right attitude to begin this year, but as Week 2 draws to a close, I quickly learned that my so-called "right attitude" was not going to be enough.

On Day 3, I was pulling up my personal profile to see how many sick days and personal days I'd acquired.  By Day 4, I was on to my second seating chart for nearly all of my classes, and to end Day 5, I had seriously convinced myself that I was coming down with something, anything to keep me home for the next 175 days.

I knew my days of second chances were numbered.  If I didn't get them this week, they would successfully overturn my classroom and I would have the "B" word and snot across my board this time.  I spent my long weekend memorizing all of their names, I created a third seating chart, and I had a new lesson plan that didn't require movement or talking to each other (we weren't to that level yet).

And so Tuesday came.  They walked in to another new seating chart.  This time I wasn't bluffing.  There were no promises or rewards or bribes.  This was it.  Take it or leave it.  The students were fine and receptive, but would it last?  Then Wednesday came.  It was picture day, or as I like to call it, field trip day.  Taking a large group of students away from the classroom and keeping track of them outside the normal parameters = field trip.  I begged them to behave, prepped them for five minutes on what to anticipate, and hoped that none of my peers would see my out of control classes and think less of me.  Picture day came and went, and everything went smoothly as if it was my ninth year teaching, and I had a handle on things.

And then there was today.  Another picture day, this time with more challenging students.  I went through nearly the same process: begging, prepping, and praying, and it worked.  My plan had worked!  Maybe it was my third seating chart.  Maybe it was because when I was prepping them, I called them each by their name.  Maybe they felt sorry for me.  Regardless, I was thanking every Saint there was that I had my classes back and for good this time.

But there's always one.  Similar to my mentor's class, it has its share of challenges and to put it simply, they weren't buying what I was selling, they wouldn't even take it for free.  As I was talking to them about pictures, some were wandering around the room, some were chatting, and others, well, were growling.  In my nine years of teaching, I have never had growling before.  So  I stopped, raised my voice a little higher, and simply stated, "You can't growl in high school."  There was silence.  So I continued.  "You can't growl, or talk over adults, or be disrespectful to your peers, or walk around the room when you feel like it in high school."  And I continued.  "You will be graduating in three years, and you can't do any of those things when you go to college or get a job either.  You have to stop now." 

They all went back to their seats, the growling ceased, the papers stopped crumpling, and collectively I heard, "Ok, Fred." 

And so we walked down the hall, all silent, all respectful.  They got their pictures taken and they even (shocker) returned to class.  As I was walking back with some of my growlers, my former students, juniors, came up to greet me.  "Hi Fred!" they said.  "Are we still your favorite?"  I stopped, looked at the juniors, who I adored, looked at my new students who I still wasn't so sure about, and responded, "You're on my list, but for right now, these guys are my favorite," and I motioned to my new students.  The entire trip up the stairs was silent, but as we reached the classroom, one of them had the guts and asked, "Are we really your favorite, or were you just saying that?"  "I never lie," I flatly responded, and then they all sat there patiently in their seats exactly how I wanted them to the first week of school.

Who knows, maybe in forty-five years, we will all be sitting around laughing about how you can't growl in high school.

lil beans Compound: A Birthday Celebration

At the corner of Indiana and Emery, in Salt Lake City, stands lil beans Compound.  lil beans received her name from Joe, who cleverly calls me lil bean, and I added in the "Compound" because there are five buildings on this property all of course, lil bean size. 

lil beans Compound is 117 years old, built the same year that Utah became a state.  It's small, it's quirky, it has some old parts, some renovations, and is where I will call home for many years to come.  This week is special to me for two reasons: it's our one month anniversary since Joe and I have been married, and it's the one year anniversary that lil beans Compound became my own.

Now that I have done what I believe to be the three major stressors in a person's life: Master's, marriage, and first-time home-buying, first-time home buying takes the cake as the most stressed out I've ever been in my whole life.  And for those who know me, I stress a lot, and have kidney stones passing at regular intervals to prove it. I had a great experience with my realtor, it was just the wait, the dude selling the house, his realtor, the mortgage company, all the nonsense that told me that this home is it...forever!  I even told Joe that I want to be buried in the back yard or in the basement that few know we have.  He says when I stop saying that line with such conviction, he will know we can discuss moving. 

I imagine sometimes of the family who lived here in 1896.  Did they utilize the rooms the same way I did?  Was it a family?  How many kids did they have?  I have taken what is known as the "birthing room" (a room dedicated to childbirth and sick family members) and turned in into a closet.  I keep that door closed at all times.  In my creative mind, I've imagined a woman "ghost" that lives in there and this house used to be hers.  She's keeping an eye on the place, sort of speak, and approves.  (The above part is where Joe said I'm losing my mind.  So I tested it out on some of his friends.  They said that they think there are good ghosts that live in old houses too, which is why I'm not deleting this part from my submission because if you think I'm crazy, then I'll drag his friends along with me).

lil beans Compound has not been all unicorns and fairy dust, however.  We've had two leaks into the basement and as Joe would call it, "The Great Flood of 2013" when the pipes in his "man den" burst due to cold weather.  We have lost tons of our trees this summer, and every morning, I go outside to see what is on the ground. We've also had some real characters do real crazy things in front of our house including, but not limited to: collapsing and getting run over, bleeding in my flower bed from being run over, she-male prostitutes walking by every night in a loin cloth at 12:30 a.m., and landlord wrestling with her sister tenant.  Many people would say, "why would you live here then?"  I am not terrified living here as I was towards the end of living in my Bountiful townhouse.  And in some way, I feel like I'm free here...Davis County just did not work out for me.  I love the diversity, being so close to downtown, doing yard work, living across from a beautiful park, paying less than I did renting, Minnie...I love it all. 

So Happy Birthday, lil beans Compound! You don't look a day over 117!



This is the second time in a year that lil beans has been completely redecorated. She's been so good to me, I think she deserves a new outfit or two every now and again. Enjoy!

 

Outside/Flowers

 

 



Joe's "Man Den."  I don't have a key.

 

Living Room/Dining Room

 

Yellow Bedroom/Teal Bedroom

 



Bathrooms/Closet

Kitchen/Joe standing in kitchen (haha)

Family Room (my biggest challenge)

 

Some of the trees we lost this summer due to microbursts.

 

 

My favorite neighbor, is "Minnie."  Minnie's real name is Lilly.  Minnie/Lilly is actualyl a male dog!  His/her owner, Thanh, pronounced Tawn, lives across the street from us and went to Vietnam this past year for three months, in which I established a relationship with Minnie.  Every morning, Minnie sits by the fence as I leave for school, and like clockwork, she goes back to the fence around 3 p.m. and sits there until I get home.  She responds more to Minnie than Lilly now, but Thanh says it's ok.  He/she is the best dog and I look forward to seeing her every day!  Thanh has twelve fruit trees and a beautiful vegetable garden.  She told us that it is all ours, since she just likes to watch it grow, and we are nice to her.  Every Monday, we go over and pick, pick, pick.  I am so thankful for Minnie and Thanh!  Minnie is my last picture.

 

She's right behind the blue dish looking right at me.







When in Rome: Our Wedding Day

If 365 days worth of planning didn't suffice, it was too late now.  In twenty-four hours, I would be married.  Joe went to Vegas a day early to spend time with his best friend and Brooklyn hipster, Justin, while I drove down with my mom on Saturday.  We carried in my dress, my bouquet, Joe's tux, everything into our suite that I had booked in January.  But I still felt like I was on vacation, not that I was about to get married. I was certainly itching to play a slot machine, but we had things to do like get our marriage license and view the venue...some vacation this was turning out to be.

Road trip.

Still not getting to play a slot machine, we went and got our marriage license.  I couldn't stop laughing at the questionable courthouse and that their hours are 24/7, 365 days a year.  I wanted it to feel special, but instead, I felt like I was ordering an extra-value meal.  My mom insisted that we take a picture, to capture the moment that we shared with dozens of other couples at 8 p.m. on Saturday, July 6, so here it is:



Oh boy, aren't we thrilled?

 The following morning, I woke up to thunder and lightening...in Las Vegas in July. Our room was right above the pools, so I just sat and watched it pour into the swimming pool.  I knew that if my mom or Joe's mom were awake, they were freaking out thinking of all of the things to say to calm me down about the rain.  Strangely enough, I heard a dozen years ago that rain brings good luck on a wedding day.  It rained on my high school graduation, my masters graduation, and now my wedding day.  I was pleased.  Besides, my wedding was indoors.

Joe and I went and had breakfast with my dad and his best friend Joel.  It was as sketchy as a casino could get, but they did offer one thing: free, celebration champagne.  I am not a drinker, but the mere mention of free and celebration in the same sentence got my attention.  The four of us clinked our glasses and cheered to a wonderful wedding day.  I drank the whole glass immediately and Joe and my dad looked at me in pure shock and horror.  The breakfast was buffet, so we all took turns getting up and getting our breakfast. On one of the rounds, I asked Joe if I could have his champagne and he said yes, he was drinking orange juice anyway.  Two glasses down.

And then the waiter came.  "Can I get anyone more celebration champagne?" he asked.  Just as my dad and Joe simultaneously nodded no, I came back with, "Oh yes, please!"  I was getting "the look" at this point, but I now had more champagne, so why did I care?  As the breakfast went on, they were all chatting about the rest of the day, how exciting it all was, who knows.  I was in the process of lining up all of my empty glasses of champagne in a straight row preparing it for a possible Facebook picture.  "Just one more glass," I whispered to Joe.  And so, he was able to get my fifth and final glass of champagne.

As we departed from breakfast, Joe said out of all the crazy things he imagined I'd do on the day of our wedding, drinking five glasses of champagne wasn't on the list.  I wasn't drunk, let me immediately throw that out there.  I find that to be classless and tacky, especially on your own wedding day.  I was however, completely relaxed which usually doesn't describe me in the slightest.  So thank you, sketchy casino buffet for your free celebration champagne!  Joe and I departed ways, and it was mere hours before we say "I do."

Once I got back to the hotel room, I couldn't believe how tired I was.  I started curling my hair, which, I really should have started the night before, and quickly grew disinterested.  I called my mom and told her I was going to come visit her in her room. 

As soon as she answered the door, I burst into tears.  "What is wrong?" she asked.  "I don't want anyone to look at me or give me attention.  I just want it to be a normal day.  I want to...I JUST WANT TO GO SWIMMING!" I opened my mascara-filled eyes and my mom was speechless. I wasn't scared of marriage or more specifically, marrying Joe.  The thought of walking down the aisle with all of the attention on me was enough to get the waterworks going for the next hour.  Do I think I would have freaked out if I didn't have any champagne?  Yes.  I think it just intensified it.  And why did I want to go swimming so bad?

So two hours before the limo was scheduled to pick us up, my mom was wiping away my tears, persuading me to get ready, begging me to take sips of Coca-Cola, and not get into my swimsuit.  I went back to the room, and looked at my frizzy hair.  It didn't look half bad...right?  I then started putting on my make-up like I do on any other day.  But in the end, I washed 90% of it off.  Whether I was tired, or nervous, or hot, I was not going to look like a Vegas show-girl.  I wanted to be natural, so I went with the very little make-up/too tired or nervous to care approach and who knows, maybe my swimsuit would fit underneath my dress just for good measure.

I've seen many wedding shows where immediately the bride has to use the bathroom right after she put on her 75 lb. gown.  That wasn't going to happen to me, so I went the bathroom.  As I tried to open the door to let my mom in, I couldn't.  This fancy hotel had even fancier locks and I couldn't open the door.  I called my mom over and was reaching my tiny fingers under the door.  "This isn't a joke," my mom said.  "Not today, Kristin." 

"Mom, I promise.  I'm locked in.  I'm not joking this time!"  And then silence.  I knew my mom was grabbing her chest thinking about how I don't have my dress on and the limo driver would be here any minute.  And then I began laughing hysterically.  "I hope you aren't joking," my mom said.  I wasn't, but what else was I going to do but laugh?  So I sat on the ground in my fancy robe, sliding my fingers every which way to try and get the door to open, laughing so hard I was crying.  I finally started throwing myself at the door (because that would really help), and then suddenly, it just unlocked.  When I saw my mom, she was both laughing and crying, and her face was all red.  "Were you just messing with me?" she asked.  "No, I promise."  I think after thirty-two years of jokes, she finally believed me.

My dress went on pretty quick, so we waited for my limo driver, Lorenzo, to come and get us.  He had only called me about five times to give me an update that he was running late.  I did get a kick out of the whole "late" thing, because I am never late, and I do everything possible to make sure everyone else around me at the time will not be late either.  This will be the first and last time people will be waiting on me. 

When Lorenzo was waiting downstairs, I knew that there would be fuss in the lobby if people saw me in my wedding dress.  I thought to "disguise" myself, I would put on my sunglasses.  It didn't work, especially since these sunglasses didn't seem to hide anything but my eyes!  People started clapping and cheering and even tearing up!  I ran fast into the limo, shooing away "the commoners."

One of the biggest things that was important to me is that Joe never saw my dress until I was standing next to him at the chapel.  To do this required a lot of people and careful timing.  Lorenzo had to call the chapel, in which Joe was ushered into a private room.  Strangely enough, when I arrived at the chapel, they ushered me into this corner in which Joe was pacing immediately on the other side.  We could both hear each other, we just couldn't see each other.

As we were waiting for our turn (yes, you have "turns" in Vegas, just like a ride at Disneyland), Joe's mom looked very concerned about the time.  I had told our guests the wedding would start at 4:30.  I even went so far as to print that on the invitations.  I knew all along that the wedding wouldn't start until 5, so we were right on schedule.

And then it came...5 o'clock exactly. Sharon, one of the consultants, ushered everyone into the chapel and then it was my turn to walk down the aisle.  When they opened the doors, I saw that I had to make a quick turn and then walk down straight.  "I didn't prepare for turns," I said to my dad, who started laughing.  And then we walked and Joe was there waiting for me at the end.  All of my worry was for nothing because I didn't notice anyone looking at me.  I was just looking at Joe (and the photographer, no need for second takes).

Right before I came down.

We had a fabulous Justice of the Peace.  She was female (yay) and when I told her "none of that obey crap," before it all began, she high-fived me and said that I was her favorite.  She gave a beautiful speech, or so everyone in attendance has said, but all I could pay attention to were the sniffles.  I see both of Joe's sisters, his mom, and Chelsea just with tears streaming down their faces.  I didn't even want to look at my mom.  And then Joe started with the waterworks.  So I did it.  Right during the sermon/speech/whatever, I whispered to him, "Please don't.  If you do, then I will, and I won't be able to stop."  So with Joe sucking up his tears, I decided to lighten the mood with jokes, because that's what everyone should do on their wedding day, right?

So for my first performance, was the part of "I do."  I whispered/growled it, and got a few laughs.  That just got me started, so when it got to the "forever" part, I paused, rolled my eyes, and said, "forever?"  That got even more laughs.  And then, without tears on my end, we were married!  I didn't know what to do with the train on my dress as they played that cheesy wedding march, so I kicked it behind me and everyone laughed and clapped.  It all may sound silly, but it really was perfect for us, with a few laughs along the way.

Someone needs to teach me when and when not to joke.

Then it was picture time: inside, outside, and all around.  Cars would honk, pedestrians started taking our picture, but at this point, it didn't bother me.  I got what I came for.  One of the workers claimed that it was exactly 117 degrees, one of the hottest days of the year so far.  So I got both rain and sun on my wedding day.

As we got ready to leave, the Justice of the Peace, the photographer, and our consultant said how classy and fun we were and they were so happy to be able to do this for us. We got extra pictures at no cost, and he even put up with our (we think we are hilarious) Real Housewives picture! Props to the Little White Wedding Chapel.  They did a phenomenal job, and I know I will go back there some day (with Joe, of course).

I will always find us hilarious.  And yes, I did send this in to Bravo TV.

It was now time for my costume change.  We had three vehicles, so vehicle #1 was headed to our restaurant, Capo's, while vehicles 2 and 3 was transporting me to get changed.  It was no time at all to change into my second dress, in which my mom said, "whatever you do, don't pick anything up."  I think I'll leave that to your imagination.

One of the most important things for this dinner was that it resembled "us."  One of the very first things Joe and I did when we started dating was we watched all of The Godfather movies and the entire series of the Sopranos.  Joe told me it was how I would learn about his family, and it took me only a few murders, prostitutes, and murdering of prostitutes to realize his family is far from this "lifestyle."  With that being said, we picked a restaurant designed after The Godfather. 

This is how you enter the restaurant.  Dominick, the owner of Capo's.

This hidden door leads you to the restaurant.  At this point, I started screaming with excitement.

 

Capos was exactly how I imagined it.  You rang a doorbell, someone yelled at you, you ordered in the dark, the windows were all covered, and all of the food had some mafia-fun title.  I love myself a themed restaurant!  We  had a private room that even was playing The Godfather on a jumbo screen.  Joe and I were serenaded and had our first dance to something in Italian that sounded real pretty, and it all ended with a free dessert and several fun photo opportunities.

The singer.

So that's it: July 7, 2013.  We ended the night back in our suite in which we both started laughing so hard we were crying.  "What are you laughing at?"  Joe asked me.  "I'm laughing that we are actually married," I giggled.  "What are YOU laughing at?" I then asked Joe.  "I'm laughing over the exact same thing." 

So here's to the laughter...forever (and the sweet cabana that we got on our honeymoon).