Reconciling My Wants with My Wallet

http://shoppingonline230.wordpress.com/2012/11/08/online-shopping-memes/

It’s your traditional tale of head versus heart – two foes often at battle with each other, generally over matters of romance, friendship, pursuing life’s passions and risks. The rational, logical side of you engages in a tango with the emotional, passionate side, only to leave you with a list of pros and cons and perhaps an incurable headache. For me, these days, these two formidable opponents have been tangled up in what seems to be a never-ending struggle for me: saving money.

Every time I go to check my bank account, I trepidatiously view the numbers and then have either one of two reactions: 1.) a mixture of surprise and relief at how little I spent in between paychecks or, more often than not, 2.) disappointment and guilt. How did I get to that number? Where did my money go? As I mentally comb through each purchase or payment, I wonder if some of them were really necessary.

Endless hours browsing through fashion blogs, Pinterest and my favorite shopping cites leave me foaming at the mouth, hands trembling above the “place order” button as I justify purchasing yet another pair of shoes. My email inbox is filled with my favorite stores notifying me of their scorching sales or of how my favorite items are selling fast – tempting, teasing, taunting. Once the few bills I have are paid, I am left to decide whether to save my money or spend it. Though the logical side of me (and my bank statement) may push me to save, the emotional and fashion-hungry side of me pushes me to spend.

I suppose this is the challenge that comes with having a big-girl salary for the first time in my life. After all, this isn’t the first time I’ve blogged about the budget blues and I suspect that this won’t be the last. I still struggle with reconciling all of these wants with my wallet and lately, I find that it has been more difficult than usual as I have too much time to browse and window-shop. For the most part, I tend to veer towards being more responsible with my money, but every now and then, I get caught up in satisfying that want. With social media’s over-exposure to the “latest,” “newest” and “trendiest” of things in conjunction with a personal affection for fashion and style blogs, I have to remind myself of all of the things I currently have and all of the financial goals I have for later, such as: paying off my car loan and moving into an apartment. These things will probably be more satisfying in the long run than the immediate satisfaction of a new pair of shoes or splurging on a fancy dinner, but it can be difficult to see that when taking a walk through Nordstrom or viewing a killer sale on Shopbop.

So how do I tame my “wants” in an effort to protect my wallet? I’m hoping that some new changes to my life and its schedule (more on that later) will fill my daily activity with more productivity and less idle-time for browsing, which generally causes me to fall prey to making a trip to the mall or to being ensnared by online shopping. Maybe I can even get rid of some of those emails from shopping sites I frequent so that my inbox isn't littered with justifications on another purchase (why be tempted?) I’ve also tried to keep a running “shopping list:” things that I want to add to my closet and/or need (such as specific toiletries) so that when I go to the mall or to a place like CVS, I can stick to buying only things that I’ve rendered essential beforehand to cut down on impulse purchases (because I really don’t need five crop tops, do I?) So I guess that leaves us all wondering: will it work? Who knows-- check back in a few months to see if my wallet is overflowing as opposed to my closet.  Stranger things have happened, right?

An Exercise Epiphany

http://workoutmemes.com/skip-the-gym-today/

A funny thing happened to me over the weekend. No, I wasn't bitten by one of my friends nor did I embarrass myself by drinking too many Dirty Girl Scouts. This funny "thing" that happened was actually more of a surprising revelation. As the weekend drew to a close and I looked ahead at my schedule for the upcoming week, I realized that -- gasp -- I was looking forward to my workouts.

You see, I've never been the athletic type nor have I been someone drawn to exercise by some sort of innate desire to be active. I'll admit, more often than not, getting myself to work out has generally been hard work (you've read this post about it, right?). I have  often just been one of those people that have associated "working out" with a type of chore -- another thing I have to fit into my life. Yes, I know that there are so many healthy benefits to working out and staying active, but I just couldn't find something that could fit into my schedule and that, to me, wasn't synonymous with masochism.

In spite of this, I have continually searched for workouts that would prove to be the perfect fusion of fun and effective. At the end of the day, I do strive to be healthy and it would be nice to have a bikini-ready bod throughout the year. It wasn't until the past month, though, that I realized that I had finally achieved the sort of synthesis I was looking for. By incorporating a variety of workouts throughout the week, I may have just found the perfect combination for me.

I've been trying to keep up with my yoga classes, my TRX class and, recently, dance fitness classes throughout the week. By making small, easily attainable goals, I find myself able to make it to these workouts and want to go to more. 

I knew that it would be unrealistic to commit to "as many yoga classes a week as possible," even though I would love to make it to more classes. Instead, I told myself "try to make it to just one a week," and have been able to make sure I incorporate yoga into my weekly workout routine. Then there's my weekly TRX class -- also one night a week with a group of my neighbors. I know it's always going to be at the same time, so I schedule around it. Throw in my Saturday morning dance/fitness class, which is late enough that I can still go out the night before, yet early enough to kickstart my day, and I've made it to three workouts a week! While this in and of itself is no extraordinary feat, I still am getting in great and effective workouts throughout the week.

I think I owe part of my success in making it to these workouts to the fact that they're all community/group-based workouts. While I do have to be motivated to attend the workouts, I have a support system -- whether it is the community at my yoga studio, my neighbors who do TRX with me, or my cousin who comes to my weekend workout -- that encourages me to attend and makes the experience more than just a means to great abs and toned legs. These workouts have become a social activity too, which allows me to feel as though I'm accomplishing more than just checking-off that work-out box. Instead, I can also get in some valuable social time with great people and even have a laugh or two in the process.

Another reason I think I've been enjoying my workouts is because of the variety. I don't just go to the gym every day, run for 20 minutes, lift weights and have a go at the StairMaster. I switch things up by attending different types of classes that engage in fitness in different ways. All of my instructors switch up their workouts every week too, which makes me excited to try something new out when I step into the studio/gym. This variety coupled with the communities participating invigorates me and motivates me to attend classes -- making me excited to go, ready to challenge myself and eager to do even more.

I was shocked when I found myself telling my cousin (who will not be able to make next weekend's dance workout) that I was still going to go to class, even though she wasn't going to be there. Willingly wanting to wake up for a two hour workout on Saturday morning? That was when I had my epiphany. I had settled into a routine that worked for me, and dare I say it, I find myself enjoying my workouts.

Guess we'll see pigs flying next, right?

Can I Buy You a Drink?

From 21st century master composer T-Pain

We're all familiar with the scenario: it's Saturday night, you're leaning over at the bar attempting to catch the bartender's attention and order yourself a vodka tonic. Teetering on your heels, your patience is being tested as you think, "What's a girl got to do to get a drink around here?" -- a cliché that, up until right now, had always seemed reserved for bad, fictional screenplays as opposed to real life.

This brief period of drinklessness, however, serves as the perfect opening for the fella or group of fellas standing right beside you at the bar, waiting for their own even-more-hopeless chance at getting a round of drinks. You’re all vying for the same thing and this, inevitably, leads to a new sense of camaraderie, and therefore, opportunity.

You know how it goes: girl starts walkin, guy starts gawkin, already standing next to you and starts talking. All of a sudden, you're engaged in a verbal tango, a tête-à-tête at the bar, and this once-stranger is now the subject of your weekend flirtation. As you and this no-longer stranger bond over shared observations of the scene, the bartender finally recognizes your lack of cocktails and points toward your new friend, implying he’s ready to make you some drinks. That’s when the once-stranger-now-friend turns to you and asks, “What are you having? Let me buy you a drink.”

Up until this point, it has all been so seamless and easy. Girl meets guy. Guy meets girl. Someone needs a drink and you’re both in the perfect location to get one. But is it okay to let your new friend pick up the tab? Should you embrace the generosity or stand firm in your feminist resolve? What does it all mean?

I have found myself in this exact situation too many times to count. Regardless of whether or not I’m single or in a relationship, I am never quite sure as to what the protocol is. There are so many different components that affect my acceptance or polite decline—all of which are scenario dependent and thus, dispelling any hope of issuing a standard “rule” as to how to handle the situation.

I’ll be honest—my first inclination is to accept the drink. I’m a girl on a budget and saving $10 on a cocktail sounds pretty appealing. However, I recognize that this might not always be the best course of action as there are implications and repercussions to an innocent “sure, I’ll take a vodka tonic.”

When I accept a drink from a guy, I usually offer good conversation (on top of our current one), some mild (harmless) flirtation and my phone number (if I’m single) in exchange. I like to think that this is a fair trade. When I’m out with my friends, I think nothing of buying them a drink or two because they’re offering me their company, I enjoy being with them and I know that my friends will do the same for me. Sure, it may be a bit naïve of me to think that a bit of witty banter and batting of the eyelashes is enough to satisfy my new friend after he has graciously bought me a beverage. But at the same time, to think that I would offer anything more than that is presumptuous on the part of the suitor.

Last Thursday night, I was the girl in this scenario, yet again. I was standing alone at the bar waiting to be served when the gentleman next to me offered to buy my drink. I had been waiting for my boyfriend and a few guy friends to meet me, so I politely turned the gentleman down, worried that accepting a drink from him meant that I was contracted to a certain amount of flirtation and interest. If I hadn’t been meeting a bunch of guys for drinks, would I have accepted the free drink? Perhaps. But the fact that I had a group of fellas joining me shortly felt a bit manipulative of me – I didn’t want this guy, stranger or not, to think that I was only paying him any attention in the hopes that I could get him to open his wallet up to me. In accepting a drink from him, I would've been implying a certain degree of interest in him, our conversation and continuing/committing to that conversation -- something that wasn't the case this time.

Ultimately, I think the whole situation comes down to circumstance and the person you meet. Are you being open and honest about your intentions? Are you both having a good time? The times when I do accept a drink from a guy (single or not single) are when I’m having a good time and we're both getting along. I’m clear about my intentions and give the guy realistic expectations about what’s going to happen post-drink. 

The times when I don’t accept a drink from a guy? If I don't feel any sort of vibe/chemistry and the conversation doesn't seem to go anywhere, then I'll decline. Obviously, you shouldn't accept a drink from anyone who makes you uncomfortable, seems pushy or offers it to you in a white van. And don't be that girl who accepts the free drink just to say that she got a free drink. 

At the end of the night, you want to make sure that you treated the opponent of your verbal-sparring match with integrity and respect, regardless of whether or not you were offered a drink. The whole point of going out is to have fun and meet good people. If you're lucky enough to be the recipient of someone's generosity, make sure to match it with a gracious thank you, and heck, treat them to a drink in return!

You Are What You Do

Scary picture, but scarily appropriate
http://collegemedia.files.wordpress.com/2012/05/screen-shot-2012-05-14-at-2-56-48-am.png?w=500&h=366

Throughout the first twenty-something-or-so years of our lives, we recent post-grads have identified as a "student," or, at best, a "student of (insert focus of study here)." It was easy. From kindergarten until the end of our years in higher education, our identity was inextricably linked to our education and what it was we wanted to do with that education. We were never plagued with the ominous question of "so, what do you do?" because it was self-explanatory: we went to class, we learned, we were working towards a degree. The majority of our life was consumed by academics to that point. No pressure, no worry about what it is we were going to do with that accumulation of knowledge, simply that we were immersed in it, and far too inundated with schoolwork to really broach any silly questions of the practical implications of our degrees and what that meant about us.

But when the tassel inevitably moves to the other side of your mortarboard and your degree is hanging up on your wall in the same room you grew up in (and will now, again be living in), people are no longer satisfied with an answer filled with potentially lofty-goals or innocent dreams. The first thing they ask is: "what do you do" and, by golly, you better have a good answer.

We have abandoned the security blanket of answering with "I'm a student," and forced to identify ourselves in terms of our current job. While answering as a student may have allowed you to be associated with all sorts of grand aspirations, answering "what do you do" with your current entry-level job leaves much to be desired. Instead of being able to cling to the things I love to do and want to do when coupled with my academic path, I have to identify with the ugly reality that is: I work at an entry-level job, I don't get to do all of the things I love to do (nor pursue any of my interests) and I am more interesting than my job lets on. (I swear!) 

And yet, when someone asks me what I do, that's the starting point. The conversation builds upon what it is that I do and if first impressions are important, then what sort of impression am I making in the first five minutes of conversation by having to identify with a job I really can't identify with?

Such a simple question, and yet, I can never answer the same way twice. I immediately find myself trying to explain it in the simplest terms and then adding a precusory, "Oh, I know, it's boring" in an attempt to separate who I am from my job. I don't want my answer, or more specifically, my job (at this early point in my career), to equate to who I am, what I care about, and what I want to do with my life. For those who know me, it's obvious that there is far more to me than the office job and cubicle I frequent 40-hours a week. But I just cannot escape the question and the inevitable bridge it forms to who I am. I may spend five days a week in my cubicle, but who I am is not what I do, certainly not in my current position. I might be working towards a better job or career path that would be more cohesive with my personality and my values, but I'm just not there yet and it's sometimes defeating when that is one of the first questions that I'm asked in order to help a new acquaintance assemble my identity.

I recognize this is something that is going to happen regardless of whether or not I cause a fuss about the question, ignore it, or create some public service announcement about the emotionally damaging side effects of being asked this question a few years post-grad. What can I do about it? Not much. But in the mean time, I'm trying to make it a point to steer conversations more towards those aspirations and goals I have. I still got 'em, folks, despite being the jaded working girl that I am these days, and I am going to make them happen.

The Pressure to Be Interesting

http://applecopywriting.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/spock-interesting-300x223.png

As I sat at my computer, fingers still, mind unnaturally devoid of my usual ceaseless internal conversation, I realized that I couldn't think of anything to blog about this week. 

My last post saved me from a multiple week hiatus, leaving me scrambling to come up with a topic that could actually be rendered blog-worthy. Despite utilizing my countless hours in traffic for brainstorming, when I logged into Blogger to write a new post, I faced a blank screen and embarrassment. I couldn't allow myself to fall into the hopeless chasm that is writer's block. But was it writer's block?

I faced a reality that appeared far more grim than the notion of being plagued with just writer's block. No, it was far worse than that. Could it be... that I was just uninteresting?

With the past few weeks consisting of little more than going to work and coming home, interspersed with some relatively drama-free hangouts lacking friend bites and awkward small talk, I had nothing to share, nothing to show, and certainly, nothing to blog about. Sure, things have happened, but is it worthy to spend time chatting on about? Probably not. As cute as my dog is, I don't know if I could really attribute an entire post to my dog's napping locations throughout the house.

The realization that this past month of post-vacation daily activity has left my bank of ideas empty got me to thinking. There seems to be an immense amount of pressure to be interesting. I mean, let's consider all of the social media outlets demanding content from us: Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, etc. What good are these accounts if not to show the entire world how interesting you are? Our Tweets display our wittiness or clever social commentary. Our Instagram accounts prove that we do exciting things like get into fancy bars, meet celebrities and drink artistic cappuccinos while eating cute breakfast pastries. Oh, and Facebook? Well, obviously Facebook proves that we have lots of friends who like to talk to us and take pictures with us and of us. If I fail to meet a certain level of interest, then I might as well cease to exist! At least, via social media. These social media outlets link our online lives to our offline lives-- so if I'm not doing anything interesting offline, what am I going to post online? What content will I be able to produce if my life offers nothing of interest to share?

I suppose we can take this into philosophical territory, if we so dare. What comes first: the interesting life or the interesting online profile? If my life is yielding little material for blogging fodder, does this force me to lead a more interesting life, in hopes that I'll have something to show for it via blog? Or do I have a great online presence because I have an overall interesting life and interesting things to say? Or... worse... am I focusing too much on creating an interesting life online, leaving my offline life to suffer for it? 

We are all curators of the online "museum" of ourselves, so to speak. We choose what to show, what to say, what to share, and therefore, do our best to control that particular image. Yet, unless we decide to "Catfish" our entire audience, we need to maintain that element of authenticity, and are thus subjected to trying to be that "person" we reveal online and offline. Should this blogging writer's block serve as a message that I need to get out more-- perhaps, re-acquaint myself with the rest of the world in order to produce more and better content? Or am I just not looking at myself hard enough to see that I have plenty of material just waiting to be typed out and posted? Perhaps neither, and instead, I just need to focus on doing my own thing, not worrying about whether or not it will give me something to write/Tweet/post about and enjoy life -- you know, reconnecting with life outside of this humming little monitor and chattering keys? The pressure to be interesting is something provoked by all of these online entities, which would be nonexistent were it not for modern technology. My Facebook page needs a smartphone/computer/tablet to exist -- but I do not. Could it be that I am more interesting than I give myself credit for?

Probably not, but the the good news is I have managed to turn this bout of uninteresting-ness into a post. Silver lining?

For more on this sort of social media insanity, check out this brief article on "Social Media Mental Problems" -- I think it sums things up pretty well:
http://nymag.com/thecut/2013/05/six-major-anxieties-of-social-media.html