Is it tax time yet?

Generally I don’t get that excited about taxes. I know that Clinton always ends up paying the government a nice chunk of change, and I usually try to avoid getting paid in a way that will be taxed. But this year it was unavoidable. I have a job that provides me with taxable income, and taxable it is.

I am still astonished at how much already comes out of my meager paycheck. Oh yes, please let me fund social welfare programs that I will never get to use. And the reason I won’t get to use them is not because I will never qualify  for them. No it is because they will be depleted of any funding.

You see the government has never learned a basic skill that every adult with a checkbook has to learn. How to balance a budget. I would have to say that for myself, and I assume for most normal people in America, that if you make one amount then once that amount is spent, you have no other money left to spend. Some of us might have a credit card or two that would let us have a little fun, but if we didn’t pay the bills, I can guarantee you those credit cards would be cut off. So how in the world is the government able to get away without balancing a budget and with a blank check to spend as much as they want? Because in my house we have to account for every cent we spend.  So if you subscribe to the idea that the government is supposed to be a role model, then it is time to start maxing out your credit cards and let your bills become delinquent. Before if your debt gets high enough someone will bail you out.

Thank you VCU for allowing me to graduate with an undisclosed amount of student loans. 

Sorry for getting on my soapbox. This is a hot topic for me. But anyways, for the first time in a long time I will be getting money back come tax time. And I will be getting back a decent amount. For a couple of reasons. First of all, I don’t make much so I definitely will not owe. And then I have a huge amount of medical bills so I can deduct all of them. And finally I can deduct the interest from my student loans. Cue the praise the lords. Most of my payments have been all interest so that will be another deduction coming my way. Cha ching.

Now with the amount that I will be getting back, I can think of a dozen fun ways to spend it. A vacation. Shopping. Down payment on a car. The list goes on. But what will I be doing like a sensible little girl? Contributing the max amount to my Roth IRA. Talk about a fun time. I will basically get a check in an amount of money that doesn’t ordinarily touch my hands and turn around and plunk that glorious check into an account I can’t touch until I am 59 and a half. How in the world is that fair? Do you know how many pair of shoes I could buy with that? But instead I will be doing the responsible thing. Thank you Clinton for rubbing off on me.

 

You get paid to fondle me?

Wedding dress shopping is a very intimate experience. I was not adequately prepared for the amount of touching that goes on. There is no such thing as privacy once you step into the dressing room. I really don’t consider myself a prude but I also don’t go looking for opportunities to walk around naked in front of strangers.  Also there was a fair amount of fondling going on. And no one said “Oh I am sorry for fondling your right breast, or for sticking my hand down your dress.” Oh no, the bridal attendants just acted like this was a matter of fact normal part of their day.  Apparently fondling the bride to be is part of the job description.

I had been expecting the experience to be little bit more laid back. I thought that I would have a bridal attendant there to help me if I needed it, but that the whole reason I brought a girlfriend was so that I would have someone to help me zip up.  It was so much fun to pull dresses off the rack. It was one of the few times that I got to buy something that is truly impractical and I was buying it just for the sole purpose of looking pretty. So I pulled every dress that I thought looked gorgeous.  I want my dress to be fun and pretty. I want to wear something I would never normally wear.

Once I have the dresses pulled, I have to begin the infamous strip in front of strangers routine.  At this point they inquire as to whether or not I am already wearing a strapless bra. Now I don’t know about you, but I find strapless bras to be uncomfortable. Mainly because it constantly feels like something is going to slip out and I am going to have a nipplegate scandal. So no I do not walk around Richmond wearing a strapless bra under my t-shirt. The attendant brings you the strapless bra and then helps you put it on. Thanks. Never put on a bra before you know. After the bra is on they put the dress on you. It is much like dressing a doll if I had to guess. They swoosh the dress over your head and then stick their hands down in the dress to re-arrange your body parts so that the dress fits. During this process I turn a particularly gorgeous shade of burnt lobster.  I would rush to get out of the dress room as soon as I was dressed so that I could get away from that loony that I didn’t even take the time to see what I looked like.

When I finally got to escape the dress room torture, I still have the attendant by my side. They assume that I cannot step up on a pedestal that is six inches off the ground without them clutching my arm in a death grip. And heaven forbid if this dress isn’t the one for me. Every possible negative comment I might have about a dress becomes their mission to make me see why this dress is actually really the perfect one for me. Please accept the fact that I do not like this dress. There are 100s of other ones to choose from. Please let me go begin the humiliating process of getting dressed all over again.

In the end I found my perfect dress. Actually I found several perfect dresses. I thought that if I tried on more dresses it would help me narrow down my favorites but it has actually only left me with more favorite dresses. What can I say? I thoroughly enjoy putting on gorgeous dress and playing princess for a day. Although Clint might tell you that I act like a princess every day (not sure if he means that as a compliment).

It is the most wonderful time of the year!

love Christmas so much. Every year I eagerly wait for Halloween so I can start enjoying Christmas in full swing.  I view Halloween as a minor annoyance and the final barrier to my Christmas extravaganza. Now that I too old for trick or treat to be socially acceptable (although honestly I still love the idea of getting dressed up and taking candy from strangers), Halloween is pointless to me. Sure there are costume parties but getting drunk is not nearly as much fun as harassing strangers for candy in the dark while running down the street in full costume. I have already bought my Christmas music and my wrapping paper. I have also started accumulating ingredients to make yummy Holiday dishes. For the next eight weeks I enjoy everything and anything pumpkin flavored. Pumpkin cookies, pumpkin bread, pumpkin muffins, pumpkin ice cream and last but not least pumpkin coffee. Suffice to say, by the end of December I am throwing away anything pumpkin flavored. Apparently there really is too much of a good thing.  Also by the end of December I am on carb overload. I give up meat for most of the month so I can cram in more carbs. Bread, biscuits, pasta, mashed potatoes and stuffing oh my! Last Christmas I only took one bite of Turkey so I could fit in more carb friendly food. Some people might say that is extreme but in my humble opinion the holidays are not the time to focus on eating your fruits and veggies. I have plenty of time to catch up on veggie eating after the New Year. I happen to love this scarf ( perhaps a little bit more then would be normal) Wrapping paper is one of the most fun items to purchase.  I like to create a whole theme with my wrapping. This usually starts with good intentions. I buy several roles of wrapping paper, and ribbon and gift tags. I arrange a little wrapping station for myself and blast the holiday music. This works well for the first twenty or thirty gifts. But after that there is very apparent decline in the quality of wrapping that gets done. It is no longer fun or a novelty by that point. I am just staring at the mountain of gifts that still need to be wrapped. And do not even get me started on the odd shaped gifts. How in the world do you wrap a build a bear box without it looking like a five years old’s creation?  How about hand weights, nerf guns, golf clubs, and footballs. The list goes on and on. Some presents it takes me five minutes just to try and decide how in the world I am going to coat it in wrapping paper. I also dislike taking unnecessary steps so I guessstimate the amount of wrapping paper I will need for each gift without actually measuring it. Most of the time this tactic works, but there are the occasional epic fails. Usually this experience ends with me throwing down my scissors and tape in disgust and pouting until I can convince Clinton to take over gift wrapping duty. Now what causes this mountain of gifts waiting to be wrapped in the first place?? Somebody who has to buy the perfect gift for everybody on her list.  I will hound people for their lists starting in mid-September. I will then start obsessively searching stores and internet deals for just the right item.  I actually really enjoy this part. I am competitive so I like to make sure that I am getting the best deal possible.  I don’t like knowing that I overpaid for something. Even if I just overpaid by few dollars. It is still the principle of the thing. It is a rush when I get a gift at an awesome price. I have fine-tuned my system over the years and now have it down to an art. But the best part of the holiday season is getting to play Christmas music 24/7 and inundate everyone around me with my beautiful renditions of classic Christmas carols. Well actually the best part might be attempting to unwrap the gifts Clint has for me so that I can figure out what he got me. The problem is he is getting wise to my maneuvers and is hiding my gifts in undisclosed locations. I told him he could trust me to be good, but he wasn’t buying it. I am really hoping for Bassett hound with a big red bow tied around its neck sitting under my tree, on Christmas morning….ahem….ahem….