I am a dork.
Why you say do you think this way? Well let me explain myself.
I always feel like i am seriously out of place when i join my running group. Everyone else has brand new running gear, expensive GPS watches beeping happily, serious sneakers and pricey tech shirts. What do i look like? Well, i am one step away from bag lady from the thrift store in dayglo spandex, 15 year old sweat stained cotton tee shirt and tube socks with holes in each toe (OK, that is a scary visual but you get the idea).
Anyway, let's just say for shits and grins that i am cheap. OK, i am going to actually admit it... i am cheap. There i said it. Spending money on anything other then staples and toilet paper (is toilet paper considered a staple?) always seems frivolous to me.
I can't blame myself for this you know. I refuse to take any kind of personal responsibility! It is all my moms fault. OK, i know that is a cop out, I am after all 47, these "mom" issues should be well behind me right? Well... not so much.
I grew up in a house that was beyond frugal. I mean it was scary, any article of clothing that was threadbare and i NEEDED to throw out got picked out of the garbage by my mom to be recycled for rags or something else. Everything was recycled and reused. I guess from an environmental standpoint it was good, but growing up as a teenager it was horrendous. I learned at an early age that anything that i owned had to be used until it was see through. Buying a new item for school once a year was a thrill, that usually consisted of 2 pair of designer jeans and 2 matching shirts. Those items had to last, anything i wanted above and beyond that, i had to figure out how to buy on my own. It was rough, when your main salary was nights at burger king.
Either way, it pretty much molded me into one big old cheapass. Not all bad i guess. I actually am what you call fairly low maintenance. This makes my husband very happy actually. I am not into make-up, nails, the mall, high dollar hair cuts, or anything girly for that matter. Malls actually give me hives. They also bore the crap out of me. When i spend the day in the mall i am constantly thinking of how much time i am wasting and how i could be outside running or hiking or biking. As a matter of fact one day my husband and I took at trip to the new IKEA
and i was so unbelievably overwhelmed that i had to go home and take a
power nap afterwards.
My mall is Unique Thrift store. It is about a mile from my house and if you had to inventory my entire house i would bet that 98 percent of it came from either this store or any number of local garage sales.
But sometimes, this can really bug the crap out of people. I have had my husband come unglued on me at stores several times as he watched me agonize over purchasing an expensive item for myself. After about an hour he usually snaps, turns bright red and says "Oh for Christ sake, would you just buy it!" at which time the salespeople stop talking, look over at us shaking their heads, doing that tisk tisk thing. Mortified, i end up slinking over to register to make my purchase.
Of course, i want to go ballistic on my husband when we get into the car and out of sight but i find myself ogling over my new purchase. Like a small child tearing open the packing and reading all the material. I have very little regret and am usually happy that i "bit the bullet" and spent the money.
So, I am beginning to think my husband has the right idea. Sometimes i just need to friggin buy it! This is also causing me to rethink the whole frugality thing. Maybe not totally abandon it but maybe change just a few small things about it, especially since my last wardrobe malfunction.
I was running the Slacker Half marathon in 2011. I had the cutest little running skirt on. This was a huge splurge for me. I "bit the bullet" and bought the skirt at the skirtsports website, clearance of course for a whole 35 and change. Big bucks! These running skirts are not cheap mind you, typically costing about 75. So of course, i felt like i hit the jackpot, plus i looked amazingly cute in it.
Well, actually, i looked cute in it for the first 3 years that i owned it, then as it got more and more threadbare, it was hard to justify the whole cute thing. The material started to fray and snag, the bottoms were totally misshapen and the elastic was just not working full force anymore. But frugal me, do i throw it out? No way! I guess maybe i was afraid to throw it away for fear that my 80 year old mom would fly in from New York and snatch it out of the garbage can. Damn her and her frugality!
Instead, out of good judgement, i continued to try to "work it" and simply had to wear it for Slacker, one of my favorite races.
The skirt worked for me until about mile 2, then everything just fell apart from there. As i was running the elastic band around the waist started to slip off my waist and slowly edge to somewhere around the halfway mark of my ass.
I tried my best to adjust it, shoved my shirt inside the skirt, pulled the skirt up, folded the top of the skirt down, ya, nothing helped. To make matters worse, because the skirt had a little pair of spandex shorts attached to them, i had nothing on underneath... yes that's right, commando for this girl!
So here i am running, holding up the skirt and trying not to give the people in the back of me a show of a lifetime (it might actually make them run the opposite direction which would be an unfair advantage on my part). White pasty butt action was after all, not every bodies cup of tea.
One of my running friend's kept looking at me, shaking her head and said, "Girl, that skirt needs to go in the trash as soon as you get home!" Liar! I had this under control. I could just hold it up and run, she would see, i was going to PR that day, skirt around my knees and all!
Finally, after about mile 5 or so i got the bright idea to take some of the safety pins from my bib and use them to pin the top of the skirt so that it did not keep sliding down past my ass. It worked, but boy did i look like a complete dork. I was dork personified. Maybe they had a medal for that at the end of the race?
So now, you ask, what has this experience taught me? Well maybe, i should stop being so dang cheap. After all, life is short, and i should really look cute at all my races right? I mean, i can't go fast so i may as well look good while shuffling for 13 or so miles.
So now what i need to do as soon as i finish writing this is buy a new running skirt and... realize that my mom is not going to come out and snatch my threadbare clothes out of the garbage anymore.... thank god.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Friday, February 24, 2012
Treadmill Love
I bought my first treadmill about 8 years ago after my husband had a heart attack. They told him that he would need additional physical therapy after he got better and he really enjoyed the treadmill at the hospital. So i got one. Then i put it in my living room, strategically faced close enough to the TV yet far enough away from the kitchen.. brilliant! Not a ton of room left in the living room after the treadmill took residence but enough to maneuver around the training equipment and shove your butt on the couch with a bag of cheesy poofs.
I am not going to lie about it, deep down inside i really bought that treadmill for me. I just did not want to admit it at the time. While i did not want my dear hubby to fail at working out, i really did want him to use it, i knew that it would not be his thing after a few tries. I felt a bit like Lex Luther. Maybe telling people "Oh that was for Alan, but since he never uses it, i figure i should try it..." Diabolical...
Now, i am not an impulse purchaser at all. Most people call me cheap. I take it all in stride, yes, i admit, i am cheap! So what. Everything i purchase is well thought out and agonized over months, maybe years, before it is purchased. I never buy anything that i do not need, i steer clear of malls like the plague, i am not easily influenced by used car salesmen. As a matter of fact i am the used car salesmen's worst nightmare.
But when i saw that shiny new treadmill in the store, i have to say, i was instantly smitten with it. I remember the first time i laid eyes on it, like a love sick cow. I did some research, agonized for months and then bit the bullet and went to one of those upscale fitness equipment stores in yuppie hell. Only top of the line models for this place. I told myself as i drove over, that "I am just going to look, thats it..." Well when i saw it....ahhhhh. It stood by the window, clean lines, sturdy frame, beautiful streamlined True Treadmill.
The sales lady saw me. She new she found her sucker. She asked "Did you want to try it?" She must have seen the longing in my eyes and the little piece of drool hanging from the left side of my mouth. She had me at "Would..." Yes Yes! Turn it on! It took all of about 15 minutes before the sale was made and i was walking out with receipt in hand. I had a glazed look in my eyes.... did i really just spend THAT MUCH on a treadmill????
Anyway, they delivered my shiny new treadmill. I was giddy with anticipation. Hey, it was not for me. It was for my husband right? The ultimate act of a caring spouse. I did mention that already, right? And i am not going to lie, i spent months pestering him to use it. I said "It is so smooth, It hardly makes any noise, try it, just once." I started to wonder if i put a little bag of cheesy poofs on the control board if it would lure him in? Not a chance. He was of course, favorably unimpressed with it. He patted me on the back, thanking me for for thinking of him, used it about twice and then parked his butt on the couch with a bag of cheesy poofs in hand. I guess it is hard to teach an old dog some new tricks?
I was sad that after all my hubby went through that he would be so unimpressed with this gorgeous piece of machinery. I guess i could have pestered, bugged, bribed and threatened my husband but that would not have made the situation any better for either of us. It was not my job to move him to better health, that was his. So here this treadmill sat.
Poor Sir Dready, i thanked him for being gracious enough to help me dry my socks and underwear for several months after the fact. I dusted it off from time to time and looked longingly at it but for some reason i could not bring myself to get on it. I think maybe i was intimidated by him? I could not fudge my miles or my speed anymore, roll out the door for an hour and go "Oh that must have been at least 7 miles! I was flying." The buttons were scary to me too. I was not used to having to control so much of my running environment with a button. Then of course there was always this underlying fear that if i got on it and it was too fast wouldn't i go flying off the back of it?
Of course, all of this unfounded. After a few months i finally got up the nerve to try it. It was smooth. There was no noise. Oh oh... i am not as fast as i thought... Either way, it started to be a good thing in my life. I got to the point where i could not avoid him, he was right there as you walked into the living room from the garage. He was not going anywhere, i had to get on. Then once or twice, became a steady habit for me.
Since then, Sir Dready has been sold and replaced. I used my new treadmill quite a bit too. Some days are better than others. I do miss Sir Dready though. I am not sure why i sold him either. I think at the time i stopped using it and figured it was a waste to have. I think deep down inside, looking at him every day and not using him made me wracked with guilt. I thought, if i sold it then i could recoup some of my loss, right? The minute after the sale was made, i knew i made a horrible mistake. The woman knew what she was buying too. She found the ad that i put on craigslist and was over in a flash. You could tell she knew i was selling it for a song, and she was right.
So now i have a cheapy one. It sits in my office, so i see it and use it, which i do. It rattles and shakes, makes so much noise that if i do not have headphones on i find myself trying not to yell if i need something. It makes very loud beeping noises and to this day i have not quite figured out how the programs work. It seems that sometimes they do and other times they don't anyway. Oh well... maybe one day this dready will kick the bucket. Secretly i am hoping it does so it gives me an excuse to visit that fancy fitness store again. I have kept myself from going, i know once i go, i will be lured into those beautiful machines again. I will not be able to control myself. And this time i will not be able to say "it is for my husband!"
I am not going to lie about it, deep down inside i really bought that treadmill for me. I just did not want to admit it at the time. While i did not want my dear hubby to fail at working out, i really did want him to use it, i knew that it would not be his thing after a few tries. I felt a bit like Lex Luther. Maybe telling people "Oh that was for Alan, but since he never uses it, i figure i should try it..." Diabolical...
Now, i am not an impulse purchaser at all. Most people call me cheap. I take it all in stride, yes, i admit, i am cheap! So what. Everything i purchase is well thought out and agonized over months, maybe years, before it is purchased. I never buy anything that i do not need, i steer clear of malls like the plague, i am not easily influenced by used car salesmen. As a matter of fact i am the used car salesmen's worst nightmare.
But when i saw that shiny new treadmill in the store, i have to say, i was instantly smitten with it. I remember the first time i laid eyes on it, like a love sick cow. I did some research, agonized for months and then bit the bullet and went to one of those upscale fitness equipment stores in yuppie hell. Only top of the line models for this place. I told myself as i drove over, that "I am just going to look, thats it..." Well when i saw it....ahhhhh. It stood by the window, clean lines, sturdy frame, beautiful streamlined True Treadmill.
The sales lady saw me. She new she found her sucker. She asked "Did you want to try it?" She must have seen the longing in my eyes and the little piece of drool hanging from the left side of my mouth. She had me at "Would..." Yes Yes! Turn it on! It took all of about 15 minutes before the sale was made and i was walking out with receipt in hand. I had a glazed look in my eyes.... did i really just spend THAT MUCH on a treadmill????
Anyway, they delivered my shiny new treadmill. I was giddy with anticipation. Hey, it was not for me. It was for my husband right? The ultimate act of a caring spouse. I did mention that already, right? And i am not going to lie, i spent months pestering him to use it. I said "It is so smooth, It hardly makes any noise, try it, just once." I started to wonder if i put a little bag of cheesy poofs on the control board if it would lure him in? Not a chance. He was of course, favorably unimpressed with it. He patted me on the back, thanking me for for thinking of him, used it about twice and then parked his butt on the couch with a bag of cheesy poofs in hand. I guess it is hard to teach an old dog some new tricks?
I was sad that after all my hubby went through that he would be so unimpressed with this gorgeous piece of machinery. I guess i could have pestered, bugged, bribed and threatened my husband but that would not have made the situation any better for either of us. It was not my job to move him to better health, that was his. So here this treadmill sat.
Poor Sir Dready, i thanked him for being gracious enough to help me dry my socks and underwear for several months after the fact. I dusted it off from time to time and looked longingly at it but for some reason i could not bring myself to get on it. I think maybe i was intimidated by him? I could not fudge my miles or my speed anymore, roll out the door for an hour and go "Oh that must have been at least 7 miles! I was flying." The buttons were scary to me too. I was not used to having to control so much of my running environment with a button. Then of course there was always this underlying fear that if i got on it and it was too fast wouldn't i go flying off the back of it?
Of course, all of this unfounded. After a few months i finally got up the nerve to try it. It was smooth. There was no noise. Oh oh... i am not as fast as i thought... Either way, it started to be a good thing in my life. I got to the point where i could not avoid him, he was right there as you walked into the living room from the garage. He was not going anywhere, i had to get on. Then once or twice, became a steady habit for me.
Since then, Sir Dready has been sold and replaced. I used my new treadmill quite a bit too. Some days are better than others. I do miss Sir Dready though. I am not sure why i sold him either. I think at the time i stopped using it and figured it was a waste to have. I think deep down inside, looking at him every day and not using him made me wracked with guilt. I thought, if i sold it then i could recoup some of my loss, right? The minute after the sale was made, i knew i made a horrible mistake. The woman knew what she was buying too. She found the ad that i put on craigslist and was over in a flash. You could tell she knew i was selling it for a song, and she was right.
So now i have a cheapy one. It sits in my office, so i see it and use it, which i do. It rattles and shakes, makes so much noise that if i do not have headphones on i find myself trying not to yell if i need something. It makes very loud beeping noises and to this day i have not quite figured out how the programs work. It seems that sometimes they do and other times they don't anyway. Oh well... maybe one day this dready will kick the bucket. Secretly i am hoping it does so it gives me an excuse to visit that fancy fitness store again. I have kept myself from going, i know once i go, i will be lured into those beautiful machines again. I will not be able to control myself. And this time i will not be able to say "it is for my husband!"
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Cancer, what it is, what it is not
The other day my sister called me very distraught. She told me a close friend of hers was dying of cancer. Apparently it was diagnosed in a very late stage and after a brave battle she was nearing the end of her fight. Here was a woman in her early 40's, vibrant, beautiful, with young children, who took amazing care of herself. She was a fitness instructor in the best shape of her life. I had to stop and ask myself, why?
She talked to me for about 15 minutes and i started to zone her out. To be honest i did not want to talk about cancer. I hate cancer. I am over cancer. I tried to be supportive and understanding. I have been there with this horrible disease, but for some reason i did not have the stomach or will power to talk about it with her. I felt horrible for basically telling her to "stop, i cannot talk about this anymore." She got quiet and said "ohhh... i did not mean to depress you, i am so sorry." Then she hung up.
I just could not do it. So many friends and family over the last few years have lost their battle to cancer. Sister in law, coworkers, friends, family. I hate it. I want to wish it away. I want to think that it is just a dream and that it does not exist and never existed.
I can't do that.
As human beings, we think we have ultimate control over everything in our lives. Since the time of the cave man, we have been trying to somehow control our environment. Throughout the decades we have built cities, gadgets, skyscrapers, roads and amazing landscapes that make a mark on the world and control the way we move throughout it. We think that somehow with all of our knowledge about how to answer every question put out there that somehow we have this disease beat. We do not, we cannot even begin to control how it happens, who gets it and why.
Oh sure, we have some clues. We have finally figured out that things such as; health, diet and environment play some part but there are still so many questions that remain unanswered. We figure if we can control everything else, somehow we can control whether or not we get this disease.
We start to eat right, exercise, take care of ourselves, go vegan, see a doctor all the time. Now it is all good, It cannot possibly enter our lives because we have ultimate control over it.
How wrong we are.
To the people that have gotten this disease, could they have done some things differently? Quit smoking? Eat better? Take care of themselves? Yes, yes and yes. And when we stop and think about all of those things sometimes we lay judgement on a person with this disease. I have had friends say "Well they smoked, they did it to themselves." Yes, to a point that might be correct but sometimes it really does not make any difference. Cancer does not seem to care what you do, what you look like, how popular you are, and if you are a wonderful person. If it wants you, It finds you, and takes you. Cancer, unlike us, has no judgement and no control issues. It is the one in control, not you.
I finally get this, It took years, but i do. I hate cancer but i have come to terms with it. In some ways i have come to accept it as a part of life. It comes and goes out of my life and i cross my fingers and hope that it's next victim is able to survive it. Sometimes this works, most of the time, it does not. I understand that i have no control over this and no matter what i do, it can happen to me.
So instead of questioning it and the person it picks, i am compassionate and understanding. I understand that if it has not come into your life, eventually it will. All you can do is cross your fingers and fight the good fight.
We are all in this together.
She talked to me for about 15 minutes and i started to zone her out. To be honest i did not want to talk about cancer. I hate cancer. I am over cancer. I tried to be supportive and understanding. I have been there with this horrible disease, but for some reason i did not have the stomach or will power to talk about it with her. I felt horrible for basically telling her to "stop, i cannot talk about this anymore." She got quiet and said "ohhh... i did not mean to depress you, i am so sorry." Then she hung up.
I just could not do it. So many friends and family over the last few years have lost their battle to cancer. Sister in law, coworkers, friends, family. I hate it. I want to wish it away. I want to think that it is just a dream and that it does not exist and never existed.
I can't do that.
As human beings, we think we have ultimate control over everything in our lives. Since the time of the cave man, we have been trying to somehow control our environment. Throughout the decades we have built cities, gadgets, skyscrapers, roads and amazing landscapes that make a mark on the world and control the way we move throughout it. We think that somehow with all of our knowledge about how to answer every question put out there that somehow we have this disease beat. We do not, we cannot even begin to control how it happens, who gets it and why.
Oh sure, we have some clues. We have finally figured out that things such as; health, diet and environment play some part but there are still so many questions that remain unanswered. We figure if we can control everything else, somehow we can control whether or not we get this disease.
We start to eat right, exercise, take care of ourselves, go vegan, see a doctor all the time. Now it is all good, It cannot possibly enter our lives because we have ultimate control over it.
How wrong we are.
To the people that have gotten this disease, could they have done some things differently? Quit smoking? Eat better? Take care of themselves? Yes, yes and yes. And when we stop and think about all of those things sometimes we lay judgement on a person with this disease. I have had friends say "Well they smoked, they did it to themselves." Yes, to a point that might be correct but sometimes it really does not make any difference. Cancer does not seem to care what you do, what you look like, how popular you are, and if you are a wonderful person. If it wants you, It finds you, and takes you. Cancer, unlike us, has no judgement and no control issues. It is the one in control, not you.
I finally get this, It took years, but i do. I hate cancer but i have come to terms with it. In some ways i have come to accept it as a part of life. It comes and goes out of my life and i cross my fingers and hope that it's next victim is able to survive it. Sometimes this works, most of the time, it does not. I understand that i have no control over this and no matter what i do, it can happen to me.
So instead of questioning it and the person it picks, i am compassionate and understanding. I understand that if it has not come into your life, eventually it will. All you can do is cross your fingers and fight the good fight.
We are all in this together.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
The unbearable lightness of facebook
Facebook has become my obsession of late, i tell people that i "am hardly ever on it", which is a boldfaced lie. I find myself randomly checking my Facebook account at least a dozen times a day. I realize that i can probably categorize myself as "the lurker" i basically troll around the site and look at everybody else's posts but rarely put anything up that is even remotely interesting, important, or even entertaining (well maybe the later if you count the funny cat pictures i found on the George Taki fanpage). Anyway, what is the point? I realize there is no point. Nobody really has anything important to say at all. And the minute you post something you think is news others have already jumped on that bandwagon. Point in case, Whitney Houston. Really? I thought i was the first one telling the world about her demise! I realized that i was one of millions that felt the need to post it on Facebook. Not that i am minimizing it at all. I did in fact really feel so horrible about her death, but i also felt like reading about it a gazillion times on Facebook somehow made it so much less profound.
I guess i am still trying to figure out the point to this whole social networking thing. Does it connect or disconnect people from each other? Do people really want to know what you are doing or do they just want you to know what THEY are doing? I tend to think the latter is true.
I often ask myself, does everyone aside from myself really have this great of a life? I know this is not the case, nobody is always "smiley and happy" and that there is a certain percentage of people that even brag about what they have accomplished. I know this, because just in my friend list i have Ultramarathon runners, PHD's and the wealthy that think nothing of posting endless pictures of vacations, second homes, and expensive cars. Not to mention, all of the wonderful accomplishments of their children. Depressing... sometimes, yes.
I thought connecting with high school friends (and not so friends) would be enlightening. I thought, wow, now is the time that maybe those cheerleaders and cliquey horrible popular people would actually want to know what i was doing with my life! Ya, not so much... As a matter of fact, as i add them all to my friend list like potatoes in the sack, i came to the sad realization that i will probably never even take 5 minutes of my day to chat virtually with any of them. I do lurk around their pages like a voyeur trying to see if they really are the perfect people they were in high school. I troll through all of their pictures gazing at the smiling faces and trips to Europe, cruises and beach perfect bodies. Some of my high school enemies look as perfect as they did in high school, aging has apparently stopped counting for them. They look amazing.
They have also done well over the years, or so their pictures portray that they have. They have great jobs, handsome husbands and beautiful children. Some even have grandchildren (this is really sad to me). Either way, it makes me feel like i have somehow failed in "most likely to succeed" category. Outwardly you would not think this, i have accomplished a lot in my life (at least i think i have) but sometimes when i look at others, well, i feel like i have somehow fallen miserably short.
I realize i am being overly dramatic. If you knew me in high school you would have probably thought i would have ended up as a professional waitress at Denny's or an inventory clerk for a nut bolt and screw factory (actually had a summer job doing that). Lets just say i was not all that. I was very shy, had very few friends and was a major under achiever. I had no self confidence. The only thing that gave me any sense of self worth was being on the swim team (that was where all the chicks that did not make it into the popular sports ended up). It was there that i found my passion, even though i was not fast, it was something that made me feel like i could accomplish anything. It was where i felt like i fit in. The rest of high school pretty much sucked.
To be honest, i spent several years floundering around after i graduated. I had no idea what i wanted to do when i grew up so i tried everything. I spent years in and out of different colleges, tried the military, moved out on my own (with or without different boyfriends), and pretty much took up space on the universe as a professional college student. I waited tables for years and took classes here and there so i could say i was "working on my BA." It was a sham.... it actually (and i am kind of ashamed to admit this), took about 10 years to finally get my BA.
I met my current husband, moved out of NY to Colorado in 1990. We pretty much had nothing (unless you count the 2 quarters we were able to scrape together). We drove cross country in a 1963 Chevy Impala that was falling apart. It broke down in every state and i remember having to shove towels in the rusted out hole that was in the passenger side floor. We had some houseplants, an old crotchety cat and my step son (who was only 9 at the time), squeezed into the back seat. I was 25 and my husband was 36. We had no clue what we were doing and all i know is that he had a job in Colorado and i had no life in NY. It was a match made in heaven!
It was rough, we barely knew each other when we decided to hook up and move out west. We thought we had it made! We had hardly any money but we figured out how to make it work. If you asked me now, "would you have done it again" i am not sure that answer would have been a yes. But now as i look back, i realize it helped shape me into the person i am today and i have a beautiful son to show for our life together. I would not trade that for the world.
If i had to put everything in perspective, life did not really begin for me until i was in my late 30's, early 40's. I tell people that the best years of my life have been the last 10 or so. In a way, that is a sad testimonial but it also makes me happy that i finally figured out who i am, what i want, and what is important to me. If i had to rate my life right now, i would have to put it somewhere around an 8 or so, seriously, It feels right to me. I am finally really happy.
I had my son at 40. I completed over 20 half marathons and 6 full marathons from age 42 on. I finally got my Master's degree at 45, and i have a great job at 47. So maybe i am not a grandmother, or have a summer house in Maine, but i do actually have a really great life. It just took me longer than most to get there and of course to realize it. To realize that money was not what would ultimately make me happy, it was the accomplishments that did it for me.
I also realize now, that what is important to me, more than anything else, is to keep on accomplishing great things for myself... and nobody else. I intend to run until i am 80, one day maybe an ultradistance. So what if i am 80 when that happens? Who cares? I just do not feel the need to post it on Facebook for the world to see. These are my accomplishments now, and nobody else's.
I try not to compete, i put up my own smiley faced photos, trips to Colorado Springs and pikes peak (OK not a cruise, i live in Denver which is about an hour from each of those places). I put up pictures of my son and I skiing, those are pretty cool. Not too many of the smiley faces do that back east where i moved from.
Ok, so the reality of the situation, i am not rich, and to put up phoney pictures trying to emulate that on Facebook, would be a lie. My husband and I do not take fancy trips, we do not drive a Hummer, and we do not own a vacation home in the Poconos. All of my clothes come from the thrift store and after we pay all the bills at the end of the month, there is a little bit left for movies and a dinner out here and there. If you ask me "does that bother you?" i say, no... I have a very comfortable life, i am able to provide for my son, my husband and have a bit extra for a few fun things at the end of the month.
To be honest, and as much as i fantasize about hitting the lottery, or getting promoted to CEO, i will never be rich. We will never be rich. That is just the way it is.
I know, I know, think big, dream big, right? Yea, I get all of that, but i am also a realist. A close friend of mine says, you are so underpaid. You have a Masters degree, you should be making way more money! And i realize, she is right, but the thought of working in a place that fosters weirdness (think typical corporate america) is about as appealing to me as sticking a hot needle in my eye. To work at something that makes me stressed out and miserable at the end of the day... no way. To have to work overtime in order to sacrifice time away from my son, never going to happen. With age, my priorities have changed. I enjoy working in education, i love the people i work with and my job enables me to have a life at the end of the day. This makes me happy, not rich, but happy.
I have actually thought about disabling my Facebook account several times. Why do i need to try and compete? I feel like i am keeping up with the Joneses! It is actually quite silly if you think about it. As much as i do not want to admit, it is hard not to lurk and compare my life to others. Do they really have it all and my life is a sham? It is hard to ever know what is real and what is not on Facebook. I try to take it all with a grain of salt. I am sure they have all had their trials and tribulations as i have had, maybe they are just ashamed to admit it. Everybody wants to paint a pretty picture, don't they?
I think that i could spend more time doing something a lot more productive than trolling around Facebook, not sure what that is yet but i am sure i will think of something. Then again i cannot control myself... back at it, lurking, lurking... the voyeur with nothing else to do.
I guess i am still trying to figure out the point to this whole social networking thing. Does it connect or disconnect people from each other? Do people really want to know what you are doing or do they just want you to know what THEY are doing? I tend to think the latter is true.
I often ask myself, does everyone aside from myself really have this great of a life? I know this is not the case, nobody is always "smiley and happy" and that there is a certain percentage of people that even brag about what they have accomplished. I know this, because just in my friend list i have Ultramarathon runners, PHD's and the wealthy that think nothing of posting endless pictures of vacations, second homes, and expensive cars. Not to mention, all of the wonderful accomplishments of their children. Depressing... sometimes, yes.
I thought connecting with high school friends (and not so friends) would be enlightening. I thought, wow, now is the time that maybe those cheerleaders and cliquey horrible popular people would actually want to know what i was doing with my life! Ya, not so much... As a matter of fact, as i add them all to my friend list like potatoes in the sack, i came to the sad realization that i will probably never even take 5 minutes of my day to chat virtually with any of them. I do lurk around their pages like a voyeur trying to see if they really are the perfect people they were in high school. I troll through all of their pictures gazing at the smiling faces and trips to Europe, cruises and beach perfect bodies. Some of my high school enemies look as perfect as they did in high school, aging has apparently stopped counting for them. They look amazing.
They have also done well over the years, or so their pictures portray that they have. They have great jobs, handsome husbands and beautiful children. Some even have grandchildren (this is really sad to me). Either way, it makes me feel like i have somehow failed in "most likely to succeed" category. Outwardly you would not think this, i have accomplished a lot in my life (at least i think i have) but sometimes when i look at others, well, i feel like i have somehow fallen miserably short.
I realize i am being overly dramatic. If you knew me in high school you would have probably thought i would have ended up as a professional waitress at Denny's or an inventory clerk for a nut bolt and screw factory (actually had a summer job doing that). Lets just say i was not all that. I was very shy, had very few friends and was a major under achiever. I had no self confidence. The only thing that gave me any sense of self worth was being on the swim team (that was where all the chicks that did not make it into the popular sports ended up). It was there that i found my passion, even though i was not fast, it was something that made me feel like i could accomplish anything. It was where i felt like i fit in. The rest of high school pretty much sucked.
To be honest, i spent several years floundering around after i graduated. I had no idea what i wanted to do when i grew up so i tried everything. I spent years in and out of different colleges, tried the military, moved out on my own (with or without different boyfriends), and pretty much took up space on the universe as a professional college student. I waited tables for years and took classes here and there so i could say i was "working on my BA." It was a sham.... it actually (and i am kind of ashamed to admit this), took about 10 years to finally get my BA.
I met my current husband, moved out of NY to Colorado in 1990. We pretty much had nothing (unless you count the 2 quarters we were able to scrape together). We drove cross country in a 1963 Chevy Impala that was falling apart. It broke down in every state and i remember having to shove towels in the rusted out hole that was in the passenger side floor. We had some houseplants, an old crotchety cat and my step son (who was only 9 at the time), squeezed into the back seat. I was 25 and my husband was 36. We had no clue what we were doing and all i know is that he had a job in Colorado and i had no life in NY. It was a match made in heaven!
It was rough, we barely knew each other when we decided to hook up and move out west. We thought we had it made! We had hardly any money but we figured out how to make it work. If you asked me now, "would you have done it again" i am not sure that answer would have been a yes. But now as i look back, i realize it helped shape me into the person i am today and i have a beautiful son to show for our life together. I would not trade that for the world.
If i had to put everything in perspective, life did not really begin for me until i was in my late 30's, early 40's. I tell people that the best years of my life have been the last 10 or so. In a way, that is a sad testimonial but it also makes me happy that i finally figured out who i am, what i want, and what is important to me. If i had to rate my life right now, i would have to put it somewhere around an 8 or so, seriously, It feels right to me. I am finally really happy.
I had my son at 40. I completed over 20 half marathons and 6 full marathons from age 42 on. I finally got my Master's degree at 45, and i have a great job at 47. So maybe i am not a grandmother, or have a summer house in Maine, but i do actually have a really great life. It just took me longer than most to get there and of course to realize it. To realize that money was not what would ultimately make me happy, it was the accomplishments that did it for me.
I also realize now, that what is important to me, more than anything else, is to keep on accomplishing great things for myself... and nobody else. I intend to run until i am 80, one day maybe an ultradistance. So what if i am 80 when that happens? Who cares? I just do not feel the need to post it on Facebook for the world to see. These are my accomplishments now, and nobody else's.
I try not to compete, i put up my own smiley faced photos, trips to Colorado Springs and pikes peak (OK not a cruise, i live in Denver which is about an hour from each of those places). I put up pictures of my son and I skiing, those are pretty cool. Not too many of the smiley faces do that back east where i moved from.
Ok, so the reality of the situation, i am not rich, and to put up phoney pictures trying to emulate that on Facebook, would be a lie. My husband and I do not take fancy trips, we do not drive a Hummer, and we do not own a vacation home in the Poconos. All of my clothes come from the thrift store and after we pay all the bills at the end of the month, there is a little bit left for movies and a dinner out here and there. If you ask me "does that bother you?" i say, no... I have a very comfortable life, i am able to provide for my son, my husband and have a bit extra for a few fun things at the end of the month.
To be honest, and as much as i fantasize about hitting the lottery, or getting promoted to CEO, i will never be rich. We will never be rich. That is just the way it is.
I know, I know, think big, dream big, right? Yea, I get all of that, but i am also a realist. A close friend of mine says, you are so underpaid. You have a Masters degree, you should be making way more money! And i realize, she is right, but the thought of working in a place that fosters weirdness (think typical corporate america) is about as appealing to me as sticking a hot needle in my eye. To work at something that makes me stressed out and miserable at the end of the day... no way. To have to work overtime in order to sacrifice time away from my son, never going to happen. With age, my priorities have changed. I enjoy working in education, i love the people i work with and my job enables me to have a life at the end of the day. This makes me happy, not rich, but happy.
I have actually thought about disabling my Facebook account several times. Why do i need to try and compete? I feel like i am keeping up with the Joneses! It is actually quite silly if you think about it. As much as i do not want to admit, it is hard not to lurk and compare my life to others. Do they really have it all and my life is a sham? It is hard to ever know what is real and what is not on Facebook. I try to take it all with a grain of salt. I am sure they have all had their trials and tribulations as i have had, maybe they are just ashamed to admit it. Everybody wants to paint a pretty picture, don't they?
I think that i could spend more time doing something a lot more productive than trolling around Facebook, not sure what that is yet but i am sure i will think of something. Then again i cannot control myself... back at it, lurking, lurking... the voyeur with nothing else to do.
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