S T A C Y V E R B

Gotta support the team

Okay, sports fans, while we continue to ponder the deeper questions of personal economics, let's turn for a moment to something really important: tomorrow's big game!

I don't want to say to much about what I think the outcome of the Super Bowl will be, although you all obviously know what I want it to be.  Katie had an interesting post the other day about the Anti-Jinx, and in light of her theory, I won't bring bad luck upon my team by getting too cocky.  And that's all I'll be saying about that!

To the left is a picture of my beloved Dinah (R.I.P.) taken three years ago when the Steelers became champs of Super Bowl XL.  She had a great time playing with the ribbon on that balloon, and I like that this photo looks like she's just holding the balloon like a human would.

For all of you football fans out there, let's wish for a great game tomorrow.  (For you non-football fans, please don't go to a Super Bowl party just for the party and then expect the real fans to explain every tiny rule of the game.  We hate that.)  To quote one of my favorite sports movies, "We just gotta take it one game at a time and hope we can help the ball club."

More money stuff

Wow! Thanks to all of you who have responded to my previous post, either in the comments, in person or via email. This is an important conversation and I'm glad to see that so many people are willing to share their thoughts with me.

One thing someone said to me yesterday has been sticking in my mind.  She said that the way she decides how she wants to dispose of her disposable income is to think about what she'll have to show for her purchase.  For example, given the choice between going out to dinner or buying new shoes, she would choose the shoes, because the dinner would be a fleeting thing but she would be able to enjoy the shoes for years.

I definitely see her point.  It's interesting, though, that I tend to lean the other way--I'd rather spend my money on experiences than on stuff.  I think of it as the death bed test: when I'm on my death bed, would I be more likely to think, A) "I wish I'd taken some music lessons," or B) "I wish I'd had a better stereo?"  Except in cases where I really need some material thing, my choice is almost always going to be whatever will make my life more interesting.  How would I like my life to be remembered, by me and by others?  Do I want my friends to stand up at my funeral and say, A) "Wow, Stacy and I had an amazing time when we took that trip to Vegas," or B) "Wow, Stacy sure did have a comfortable couch?"

Discuss.

Money--it's a gas

Okay, it's time for this blog to address the economy.  News flash: it's not good.  The thing is, I have conflicting feelings about how to respond to the problem.

Money.  Hmmmm.  It's not something I've ever had a lot of, but I've always had enough.  I've never missed rent or gone to bed hungry because of lack of money (except maybe in 1994 when I skipped a few meals to afford Pearl Jam tickets, but that was totally worth it at the time).  I'm good at budgeting, and can s t r e t c h my dollars until they snap.  I try very hard to avoid debt except when absolutely necessary (car loan, emergency vet bills, etc.) 

The cheapskate part of my personality says that the appropriate way to deal with rough economic times is to cut back as much as possible.  Don't eat in restaurants, don't go to movies.  Knit and sew the yarn and fabric that's in my stash, instead of buying new supplies.  Make full use of my library card.  Act as if I have no disposable income because, who knows, maybe soon I really won't.

The other part of my personality, the community-minded part, says that economic improvement relies upon disposable income.  I feel duty-bound to support small businesses.  These businesses carry my hand-made jewelry.  I work at a small business that is surrounded by other small businesses, and I know none of these will survive if everyone squirrels their money away and keeps it all to themselves. 

So where's that balance?  When the President says we have to make sacrifices, how do we decide?  Do we sacrifice going out to dinner with friends at a restaurant, and have those friends over for dinner at home instead, so we can save some money?  Or do we sacrifice having a little extra money by going out to dinner and supporting local restaurant owners?  When we borrow books from the library instead of buying them, should we feel good because we've not spent money unnecessarily, or should we feel bad because our neighborhood book stores are struggling?

What do you all think?  How do you handle this dilemma?  (Whatever you do, please do support small businesses whenever possible!  And when you do, remember--it's better for the business owner if you pay with cash or a check instead of a credit or debit card, because the card companies charge merchants a fee for every transaction.) 

Product placement: Trader Joe's Three Layer Hummus

Hi, my name is Stacy and I can't stop eating Trader Joe's Three Layer Hummus.

Ever since Belinda brought this stuff to our New Year's party, it has been my snack of choice.  As far as I'm concerned, it goes with everything.  I've dipped pita chips in it, of course, but also crackers, baby carrots, celery, stale pretzels, cherry tomatoes...basically, anything that will hold still long enough to be dipped.  I've eaten this stuff off of a spoon.  I've used it as a spread on a turkey sandwich.  I've babbled so much about my love of The Hummus that other people have started bringing me some when they stop at Trader Joe's.  Clearly, I have awesome friends who support my habit (either that, or they are afraid of what will happen if I run out of The Hummus and start to go through withdrawal...).

So what is it that makes this substance so delicious?  I guess it's the combination of flavors--the sweetness of the peppers, the zing of the cilantro, all wrapped up in garbanzo goodness.  This hummus is not for you cilantro haters out there.  (I won't try to lure you into a cilantro-loving lifestyle.  That would leave less cilantro for me!)

Surely I'll get tired of this stuff eventually.  Until then, I'm reveling in being hooked on something healthy.  Mmmmm...hummus.

Previously, on Stacyverb...

Somehow the week has gotten away from me.  It's been a busy few days of working by day and socializing with friends by night, and most of the socializing seems to have revolved around the television.  Here's a recap:

Saturday: visited Christy and watched the season opener of Battlestar Galactica, which she'd recorded the night before.  Everything is a red herring to me at this point.  I trust nothing this show tells me!

Sunday: went to the Henson exhibit (see previous post), then to Judy's for football.  Go Steelers!  Next stop--Super Bowl!  One for the other hand!

Monday: dinner with Christy, Melissa and Natalia.  Once again we solve the world's problems over delicious food and red wine.

Tuesday: basked in the glow of the inaugural festivities.


Wednesday: tapas night at Brannon & Russell's, viewing party for season premiere of Lost.  Their new high def TV doesn't make the mysteries of this show any clearer, but it sure looks gorgeous.

Henson exhibition at the Atlanta History Center

Nothing like waiting till the last minute.  On Sunday, Adverb and I visited the Atlanta History Center for the closing day of Jim Henson's Fantastic World, a traveling exhibit from the Smithsonian.

On view were actual Muppets like Kermit, Bert & Ernie, Rowlf the Dog and others--which was exciting--but even more fascinating were early sketches of characters, proposals for various projects (some of which never reached fruition), a short experimental non-puppet-related film, as well as lots of storyboards and commercials.  These items all offered an interesting look inside the mind of a very creative, prolific man.

If you're like me, it's literally hard to imagine childhood without the magical works of Jim Henson.  I enjoyed this exhibit for sentimental reasons, but also because it provided insight into the creative process of a great genius.

As I said, we were slack and didn't manage to see this show until its last day in Atlanta, but the exhibit is currently on tour (next stop: Orlando), so keep your eyes peeled and check it out if it comes to a museum near you!

In a novel, this could be a turning point in the plot

I used to write a lot.  Fiction, poems, long letters, journal entries, essays...I was always scribbling something.  For a variety of reasons (an entry for another time, maybe), I started falling out of these habits about six years ago.  The urge to write just wasn't there anymore.  It went away, and I pretty much let it go.

Last year I started to miss it.  I didn't dive into writing a novel or anything, but I gradually started to bring the written word back into my life more.  I made a conscious effort to read more fiction.  Began this blog.  Started carrying my journal with me again. 

Lately I've been addicted to spending a lot of time on Facebook, reconnecting with people I haven't seen in many years.  These people, who have known me from different times and places in my life, almost all remember me as a writer.  They want to know what I've been writing.  In the past week, two people have asked me about a novel I was working on twelve years or so ago.  Hmmmm.

It does make me think.  Are these people referring to something that is in the past, when they knew me, or are they reminding me of something that was/is an important part of me, that I temporarily put aside?  Who knew Facebook could prompt such existential questions?!

Hibernating with Middlemarch

Maybe it's genetic, or maybe old habits just die hard.  All I know is, when the holidays are over, I want to hibernate.  Now, I no longer live in a place where it's really cold enough to hibernate (it was about 50 degrees today, although temps are supposed to get down into the teens by the end of the week), but the urge still remains.  As long as the sun keeps setting early, I feel like I need to be hunkering down indoors with a hot beverage and some kind of project to keep me occupied and out of trouble.

For the past few years, I've been using this cozy time of year to tackle some books that, for whatever reason, I've never gotten around to reading.  I have a B.A. in English, and have studied a fairly diverse variety of novels both in school and out, but there are plenty of gaps in my literary education.  So I've been using these winter months to fill in those gaps. 

This winter's selection is Middlemarch, a novel that gets referenced in literary criticism possibly more than any other in the English language.  Probably the reason no one ever assigned this to me in college was because it's 799 freakin' pages long and would have hogged most of a whole semester.  Also, the typeface on this sucker is about eight point, so...I might need winter to last a little longer this year.  I'll be starting this tonight.

Sportsmanlike conduct

Well, sports fans, we're deep into the NFL playoff season and my beloved Steelers are now just one game away from the big one.  Very exciting!  At this point in the season, it's easy to get carried away with the trash talk, the old team grudges, and so forth.  That's why today I'd like to give props to my friend Dave. 

In a certain circle of our closest friends, we draw names for Christmas gifts each year.  This time, Dave was my Secret Santa.  Dave and I like to talk football.  Now, my team beat his team in the regular season.  His team did not make the playoffs even though they had an excellent record.  Plus, he's still kind of upset about a game where my team beat his team in 1998.  But despite all this, Dave rose above it all.  He swallowed his pride, put the resentment aside and gave me the gift of Steelers paraphernalia.  Now that's a true pal.

You just know that no Ravens fan would have done that.  Go Steelers!  One for the other hand!

Critter spotlight: Nacho

On a cold night in November 2007, Adverb and I were minding our own business, eating some chili and watching old episodes of Monk on DVD.  Suddenly we both heard a small mewing voice, one we didn't recognize.  Adverb went outside to investigate and when I followed him, I found him on the porch holding this:

A very cute kitty who appeared to be about 3-4 months old.  She was hungry.  She was purring as Adverb held and petted her.  We gave her some kibble, which she gobbled up immediately.  Since it was cold outside, and there had been coyote sightings in the neighborhood, we brought her into the house and gave her a blanket to sleep on in our little pantry room for the night. 

So.  We put up signs and tried to find out whose she was (we assumed she had humans somewhere, since she was so people-oriented, not like some skittish stray).  No luck.  After a few weeks--although we were smitten--we still considered her a foster kitty, so taking her to a shelter didn't feel like an option.  We wanted to place her with someone we knew, where we knew she'd be safe (and maybe we'd have visitation rights!).  Eventually, of course, we accepted the fact that we had a new kitty.  (Adverb's version of this is slightly different: he claims I always meant to keep her and that my search for her "real" family was just an act.  Not true!)

Okay, so maybe I didn't always know she would be staying, but I think she always knew it.  My main sidekick, Dinah M. Kitty, had gone to kitty heaven that April, and even though we still had three wonderful critters with us, a kitty-shaped hole definitely remained in my heart.  Some people tell me they think Dinah sent Nacho to take care of me.  I don't know about that, but I do know that since that night when she arrived on our porch, I've had a new sidekick. 

Her first visit to the vet revealed that she wasn't as young as we'd thought.  Judging by her teeth, the vet said she was at least eight months old and therefore full-grown.  She wasn't a kitten, just wee!  She still only weighs 5.5 pounds, thus her main nickname, Pip Squeak. 

She sure does cram a lot of personality into that petite little body, though.  And as for her given name, Nacho?  When we still believed she already belonged to someone else, we felt like we needed to call her something while she was staying with us.  But what, we wondered, do you call a kitty who isn't yours?  Well, of course--that is Nacho Kitty.  But she is now!