money can't buy happiness

 

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I'm good at spending it, but I'm terrible at saving it.  I opened up my first credit card when I was 19 and it all went downhill after that.  I spent my entire life savings on rent, food, books, and bar tabs during college because I wanted to experience true college life.  I graduated college with a Bachelors degree and no college loans (thanks again, Mom, for working at the University and providing your children with free tuition) but I managed to rack up about $2,000 in credit card debt. 

Then I nailed a job in Philadelphia, found an apartment downtown and decided to experience true city life by going out to happy hours, dinner dates and buying anything I wanted.  It was great because I never had someone (i.e. parents) telling me no.  But by the end of that first year, I had racked up about $6,000 in credit card debt and at one point, had a mere $10 in my checking account.  I didn't have health insurance or a 401K because I couldn't afford it.  I was literally scraping for pennies, trying to find a way to pay my $600 rent each month.  I blatantly ignored paying one of my credit card bills for almost a year and eventually, it came back to bite me in the ass.   

So what has my city-life taught me?  Own up to your finances and be smarter about your choices.  You can still enjoy life without going broke.  

This was a tough lesson to learn.  I'm still living my city-life, but I'm more mindful of where my money is going.  I [finally] have good health insurance, a 401K, two checkings account and a savings account.  Not to mention mutual funds and stocks.  I know how much of my bi-weekly paycheck gets deposited into which accounts so I can keep track of where I'm spending my money.  One thing I am absolutely loving right now is mint.com, especially their Droid app, because I can check my bank and credit card accounts when I am traveling, making sure I keep within my travel budgets.  I'm starting to clip coupons more and I receive the daily Living Social and Groupon e-mails which also inform me of special deals and offers in the city.  I'm also working on knowing the difference between need and want.  I was at Target over the weekend and they had Dawson's Creek: Season 1 & 2 for $19.99.  I tossed it into my basket because yes, I just started getting it through netflix and I am now addicted (don't judge me).  As I wandered around the store though, I keep asking myself:  Do I really need this?!  Do I really want to spend the $20 for this?!  I walked out of the store $20 richer (kind of) because I didn't buy the DVD set.  And you know what?  It felt so good.

I'm still working on paying off all of my credit card debt and my new goal is to start an emergency fund (yeah, never had one of those either) in case my car blows up or I lose my job soon.   I live in a big city but I certainly don't live an extravant lifestyle.  

Money can't buy you happiness, but it sure does make having fun a little better.

This post is a part of the 20-Something Bloggers Blog Carnival in partnership with Charles Schwab Community Services.  I took the Financial Fitness Check-up Tool and scored a 68/100.  For more information on the carnival, click here.

Disclaimer: This post is part of the 20SB Blog Carnival: Friends & Money, sponsored by Charles Schwab. Prizes may be awarded to selected posts. The information and opinions expressed in this post do not reflect the views or opinions of Charles Schwab. Details on the event, eligibility, and a complete list of participating bloggers can be found here

throw the rule book out the window.

"It was love at first sight."

The moment I laid my eyes on him, I fell in love.  It was that deep, passionate, entangling, head-over-heels, warm-fuzzies kind of love.  Stuff that you only see in movies.  Walking down the sidewalk, sitting in cafes, laying on a bench in the sun - it was all euphoric and tranquil.  

Right after college, I had a chance to follow him; a chance to follow my heart, but I chose not to.  It wasn't the right time and I barely had any money saved up.  So I took the safe route, the smart choice and went 300 miles East.  He continued to wait for me, and each time I saw him, I fell in love all over again. 

"He stole my heart and I haven't been the same since."

You always remember your first true love.  You remember every little detail, every blissful moment and every time s/he made you cry.  It's heart wrenching and painful when you think about him (or her), but you realize that time heals all wounds and maybe it's painful for a reason.  Maybe after five years of feeling nothing but pain, you realize it's a sign of true love and everlasting love.  Maybe after trying to compare him to every other one that you see, knowing that those others just don't stack up, it's a sign that your heart was with him all along.  Maybe after five years of separation, you realize that it's time to make a decision - it's time to follow your heart instead of your head.

"You won't leave where you are until you decide where you'd rather be."

For five years I have been fighting this intense love.  Call it denial or indecisiveness, but at some point, you reach a moment when you close your eyes and know what you need to do.  And instead of going against the grain and creating every excuse in the book, you decide that you're going to follow him because that's where your heart is, and you need it back in order to feel whole again.  He's everything you ever wanted and he's ready to give you everything you need.  All you need to do is take a chance.  Stop fighting what you've been longing for your entire life.  Stop convincing yourself that you are better off without him.  Truth is, you haven't been better since the last time you saw him, and you won't feel that sense of euphoria until you see him again.

When I moved to Philadelphia, it was only supposed to be temporary - two years, max - until I could figure out my next move.  But then, like every one else, I started settling into this place and I started creating friendships, networks and relationships.  I started making a name for myself in this big city.  Last month marked my 5-year anniversary of living in Philadelphia.  FIVE YEARS.  Holy hell.  It's been one hell of a ride, but with my lease ending at the end of the summer, I realize that I am ready for a new adventure.  I'm ready for new memories, new thrills, new laughs and a new place to call "home."  For as much traveling as I do, visiting big cities like Chicago, NYC, and Seattle, I realize that while I could quite possibly see myself living in one of those cities short-term, my heart has always been in one place.  He stole my heart from the very first time and I haven't been the same ever since.  

Truth is, I fell in love with Washington, D.C. the very first time I visited and every time I go back, as soon as I step off of that Amtrak train, I feel whole again.  I smile genuinely and intently.  The air smells fresher and the buildings shine brighter.  I gain a feeling of confidence and ownership, like I belong in this city. 

Sometimes in life, you have to throw out the "rule book" and follow your heart. 

I've been thinking a lot lately about taking chances, and how it's really about overcoming your fears.  Because the truth is, every time you take a big risk in your life, no matter how it ends up, you're always glad you took it." - Scrubs -

blue balloon

As a kid, everything in life is all sunshine-y, butterflies, laughing and smiling.  You don't understand words like suicide, death and funeral.  You don't understand how those words are going to impact you later on in life. 

At 12 years old, I thought my parents would live happily ever after.  I would day dream of being an adult and bringing my own family home to Pittsburgh to my parents house for Christmas and Thanksgiving.  Or spending family vacations together, sitting on the porch on a warm, summer night, sipping wine and reminiscing over childhood stories at my cousin's cottage at the Finger Lakes. 

My father died in 1994.  His death never really impacted me as much as my mother's did.  Maybe because I am still traumatized over finding him hanging from a pipe in our basement, or maybe because I was too young to truly understand things like suicide.  Even now, at the age of 26 and being personally affected by it, I still don't understand suicide.  I don't understand why people do it.

Right after my father killed himself, I was ashamed at how my life turned out.  I was ashamed of talking about my father, thinking about him and looking at pictures of him.  When friends would ask me about my father, I would lie to them because I was so ashamed of being "that girl" who lost her father.  I didn't know anyone who had lost a parent and so I didn't want to believe I was different than anyone else.  I spent my life trying to fit into this world - knowing I look different than my friends and my brothers, knowing that I grew up in a white family, in a white neighborhood - I was ashamed of being even more separated from the world by being father-less. 

It's still painful to talk about it.  It's even more painful to think about him - more so because I never really had the chance to get to know my father.  At 12 years old, all I wanted to do was play in the park with my friends.  I didn't realize the importance of building a relationship with my father.  I missed out on one of the best things in life, but it doesn't mean I won't savor what memories of my father I do have.

Today, in honor of Father's Day, I ask a favor from my readers.  To those of you whose father's are still around, please take the time to cherish them.  Hug them tighter.  Appreciate them more.  Love them stronger than before.

(I'm a poet and I didn't even know it)

And remember those other people in your life who have lost their fathers.  Remember how difficult of a day Father's Day is and make sure you appreciate them just the same, because deep down they too are struggling with the loneliness that today brings.

A pink balloon for my Mother, a blue balloon for my Father.

Keep watching over me...

"I promise to go in with an open heart and an open mind."

...is what I wrote on a post-in note and tucked it away in my purse, as I was packing for Flo-rida.  

My lack of female-based-friendships stems from my own insecurities.  I have never really had girl friends who have accepted me completely and authentically for who I am.  Perhaps this insecurity lies in the type of relationship I had with my mother.  Her and I were never close, so I never really grew up knowing what it was like to have close relationships with anyone.  I've had girl friends come and go, and in the end, the all seemed to have betrayed me one way or the other.  Even my friendship with my best friend isn't that close-knit, and this is a girl I have known for about 15 years.  

I find it difficult to relate to most girls I know or meet because of my past.  I shouldn't let my past hinder me from building new relationships, but those past experiences have resulted in crossing over into adulthood a lot sooner for me.  It's hard to connect with someone on an emotional level when the other person is at a different level than you.  

It wasn't until recently when I starting building close friendships with girls.  Blogging does wonders.  My non-blog friends find it weird when I talk about my blog friends.  The reality is, my non-blog friends just don't get it.  I may not reveal my job, my work, or my identity on here, but I do reveal deep, dark, intimate details of my life - past and present - that I wouldn't normally talk about.  And it's not because I share it for my readers (hi readers!), but I share it for myself, because writing - whether it's in a journal, on a post-it note, or on my blog - is my creative outlet.  And I do enjoy looking back on my old posts to see how far I have come in a week, a month or a year.  Self-reflection can be therapeutic. 

I never did the Spring Break thing, and I grew up with 2 older brothers, so sharing and living with girls is a big adjustment for me.  I've lived with two different sets of girls for about two years now, and I am always very self-conscious of what I do around the house, what I say to them and whether they think I'm hogging the televisions too much.  I spend my time at my house alone, watching TV in my basement or watching a movie on my computer in my bedroom.  I just don't know how to bond with my roommates.

Today I am off to spend a long weekend sharing a beach house with a bunch of girls (and a couple guys).  I know the girls.  I play hockey with them.  They know who I am, I know who they are, but I've never really gotten to know them, and maybe that's my fault because my first impression was that I just didn't like them.  Except now we will be forced to live together, drink together and play hockey together for four straight days and I don't have an excuse not to get to know them.  So, I made a promise:

Go in with an open heart and an open mind.

And who knows, I may come back with a couple new friendships.

Or, I may come back wanting to kill hurt them all.

on hope.

Kanji symbol for "Hope"

Hope is a belief in a positive outcome related to events and circumstances in one's life.   

Hope is the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best.

Why is it so easy to focus on the negative aspects of life, than the positive ones?  With so much beauty in the world, why are we constantly looking and waiting for the next negative thing to happen?

I can feel the weight being lifted off my shoulders.  I can feel the internal knot being loosened.  Chalk it up to being in therapy or the Joy Equation or just changing my attitude and perspective on life, but I am beginning to feel happier and more hopeful. 

I have trouble letting go - of papers, of journals, of friends, of ideas, of mementos.  I hold onto everything - good and bad - because I feel like I need those things in my life.  I am afraid to let go because of the mere thought that I could actually be happy some day.  Yet, the reality is, many of those things that I have been holding onto have been very damaging for me.  People have been inadvertently stealing my joy and happiness and I didn't even know it.  Ideas have been sucking the life out of me and prohibiting me from doing better, more productive things.  I have been preventing myself from being authentically happy by holding onto everything.

I got a second tattoo last week - the kanji symbol for hope.  I first started believing in hope a few years ago.  I had spent too many years dwelling on the negative aspects of my life, and realized that I need to change my ways or I would be stuck on this beaten path forever.  I started believing in myself and my ability to overcome adversity and do wonderful things in life. 

I sat in the tattoo parlor, squeezing the life out of my best friend's hand to distract me from the pain (yes, tattoos hurt and if someone tells you they don't, they are LYING!).  Just as he finished up, I took a deep breath, let go of my friend's hand and thought, after all the shit I've been through, here's hoping the best is yet to come.

I'm hopeful that I can find a better job, or even a better career.  

I'm hopeful that I can fix seven years of internal pain and suffering and not well up at the sight of a mother and daughter having lunch on a Saturday afternoon.  

I'm hopeful that I can finish my memoir (part 1, at least) and get it published by the time I'm 30.  

I'm hopeful that I can get my nonprofit to where I want it to be.

I'm hopeful that the best is yet to come.

I came back from Florida with another tattoo and a fresher outlook on life.  My happiness lies in letting go of the negative and damaging things around me, like toxic friendships, judgmentally damaging people, and bad decisions.  Because it's about doing things for yourself to find your own happiness.  All this time, I had been relying on other people and other things to bring me happiness, when in fact, they have been stealing it from me.

When you think about it, we all need something to hope for.  A better job.  A better writing project.  A better outcome.  A better relationship.  We hope for the best because we believe we deserve it.  And you know what?  We really do deserve the best. 

"Hope is a good thing - maybe the best of things - and no good thing ever dies."
 - Shawshank Redemption -

seven years

All it takes is one moment; one simple moment that changes the course of your life.


In wedding vows, you say "for better or worse."  But when you think about it, everything you do in your life is for better or worse. 

June 4, 2003.  I was in Pittsburgh mourning the loss of my mother.  That was the day my life changed.  While my friends were partying and drinking, I was settling an estate, closing accounts and planning funeral arrangements. 

For better or worse, I had to make a decision.  I could allow depression to take control of my life, or I could muster up whatever courage I had left and face this scary world ahead of me. 

Seven years later and I'm still standing on my two feet with more courage, strength, endurance and hope than ever before.  Sure, I have my moments when I feel defeated, lost and alone, but I take those days for what they are and make sure to make the next day a better one.

Today isn't about mourning or sadness.  Today is about embracing myself and being proud of how far I have come in the last seven years.  It's about embracing the strength and courage I have as I continue conquering the world on my own.  It's about being happy about the choices that I have made that led me to where I am today, for better or worse. 

Thank you, Momma, for shining down on me.
RIP
July 8, 1949 - June 4, 2003

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