Financial Assvice Courtesy of The Sun

I made the mistake this weekend of actually reading the paper's business section (yes, we still get the newspaper. I wouldn't be able to feel good about recycling it with only digital media now, would I?). As it's January, albeit the end, and we are approaching tax season (I'm even kinda sorta organized! Now if my company would just send me my W-2...) there is of course a plethora of articles on what you should be doing, you dumb hick who is destined to live in your children's basement, subsisting on a diet of mixed grill and salmon surprise cat food if you don't get financially healthy this minute!

Yes, savings rates have fallen off in this country. Yes, I'm betting a large number of my peers have little to no retirement savings. Yes, this is a massive implosion waiting to happen.

HOWEVER

Articles telling you that if you aren't socking away the maximum allowable in your 401(k) ($17,500 a year I believe) then you are beyond screwed are not helpful. You get the virtual sigh and 'well, if you can't do that, then at LEAST get the company match' runner-up tone. This is of course assuming that your company offers any sort of a match. Listen, I've been with my company for over 16 years now and I do okay but there is not a chance in HELL I could afford to put away over 25% of my salary for retirement. Maybe someday but not with a mortgage and kids in daycare/aftercare. I mean, I guess I could if we gave up the little things like a house or eating.

You're putting away the maximum into your 401(k)? Great! But you aren't done yet. You are a fool if you aren't maxing out personal IRA contributions of $5000! YOU WILL DIE BROKE AND ALONE, YOU WORTHLESS CONSUMER WHORE.

Consults budget - Let's see...well, we have clothing and we don't have a house anymore so don't have to worry about heat or electricity. Layers are in this year after all.

Got your $22,500 squirreled away? Good work but you aren't done yet. Do you have six months of expenses saved up in an easily liquefied account? You know, what, it's so hard to find a job, better make it a year's worth. Hm, that's another $48,000 to put away which may be overkill seeing as we don't have mortgage, food, or heating bills anymore as you don't need them in a cardboard box. Oh! No electric, no need for TV so we can cancel that too. Still need cell phone service and car insurance so those have to stay...good news! We can drop the amount needed to save to $28,800. Well that's certainly a lot more doable. I'm feeling pretty good about this plan.

To hit these numbers, we would have to save $5900 a month. This...is a lot more than what we bring home. So thanks guys for pointing out in 12-pt type what miserable failures we are.

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a wine rack to polish off. Might as well enjoy it while I still have a house to drink it in.

Why giving your children a vote is rarely a good idea

We may have inadvertently set the bar a bit high last year with our having things to do, places to go, people to see weekend extravaganzas of rarely being home. So much so that the kids have come to expect that every weekend and now Noah has taken to asking, 'Where are we going today?' as apparently 'Sunday School' and 'Noelle's dance class' don't count. It should though, it's out of the house, dammit! But! Experiences! Enrichment! Not bugging each other! So we put it to a vote: either go to the World of Pets Expo or Germs R Us. This is why we bundled up yesterday, grabbed the mound of tokens and headed to...Chuck E. Cheese.

They have dead eyes, like sharks eyes.

As we already had a slew of leftover tokens from a previous visit and everyone had already eaten lunch, this was fixing to be a very low-cost outing (good thing there is no 'pizza' purchase required though they ostensibly serve beer so it would be a win-win.) (Full disclosure: I've never actually discovered the magic beer fountain there. I feel kind of betrayed.) Games, rides, climbing...how could this be a bad idea? LET ME TELL YOU THE WAYS.

Firstly, we made the rookie of mistake of heading there after 11 am. Seriously, if you want a lord-of-the-flies free experience, go before noon. We arrived at 3:15. Into absolute madness. Every table was reserved for parties or in use by other families who had the exact same idea we did. No place to stash our coats, Dyl and I carried/wore them while the kids ran around. Or tried to because every possible path was choked full of bodies. No one was unruly or mean; there were some older kids who refused to doff their shoes before climbing in the playground but overall, no one was bad. There were just a LOT of people having a LOT of birthday parties.

Second, they were pretty close to being understaffed. We had decided that we would get drinks (playing and running is thirsty work after all) and Dylan stood in line for a long time to get two kid-sized cups. Then when it came time for the kids to trade in their tickets for (cheap-ass) prizes, it took another 20 minutes for them to get a turn. Incidentally, Noah cleaned up on tickets - he favors the games where you can win a lot at once as he has inherited the lucky parking horseshoe from his father. Noelle likes Skeeball (as do I) and trap the hamster, even emptying the game of tickets at one point. Tired, hot, jostled, and frazzled was not a fun ending to the afternoon.

The thing with being in public? You have to see them and their sartorial choices. I really can't believe that a *lot* of pregnant women (that's so redundant but there you go - sounds weird otherwise. Pregnant people? Pregnant folks? See what I mean?) put on leggings and non-tunic sweaters/shirts and thought, 'Damn, I look good'. It was pretty traumatizing. For me at least. It's very judgy, I admit it but Leggings Are Not Pants. Not ever. So say we all.

But in the end the kids had fun, ran off some energy and even brought home a toy that provided minutes of fun and excitement.

Next time though, I'm rigging the vote for the Lego Movie.

How quickly the cocoa comes off the bean

Noelle woke up this morning very excited. Why? Well, today she was going to eat Cocoa Puffs for breakfast! She had seen an ad for them while watching Disney Junior earlier this week and it spoke to her. (Aside: when did Disney Junior start airing commercials? That was one of the things I liked best about it and Nick Jr - no paid advertising. Assholes.) She's not a cereal eater, in fact, both of them usually have French toast sticks for breakfast unless there are pancakes. Which I rarely make except for dinner so frozen French toast sticks it is! I don't get this; I grew up eating cereal and to this day it  is my preferred breakfast food but hey, it's not my stomach so whatever.

For her though, this was going to be awesome. It was chocolate! It would make the milk chocolaty! It would be the greatest thing since Monster High dolls and Star Wars all rolled into one! Breakfast as we knew it would be revolutionized! She took the first spoonful with great gusto and then...huh. There wasn't much going on. Sure, it's dark brown and the milk was turning an alarming shade of brown/grey but...where was the awesomeness? Where was the flavor she had been promised? For the love of god people, WHERE WAS THE CHOCOLATE?!

She ate about half the amount in her bowl when she turned to me and asked if she could be excused, she was done.

"Wasn't as good as you thought it was going to be, huh?"

She shook her head no.

"It's okay honey, that is what commercials are designed to do: make something or an experience so appealing that you just have to have it. It's called marketing and it's everywhere."

She got down from the table and went to play, a little sadder but hopefully a little bit wiser.

Me on the other hand? Well, let's just say that I already know what I'm eating for breakfast tomorrow.

A Name By Any Other Is a Pit of Vipers

I have three last names. Not the kind like the guy my mom used to date *cough Coleman Langam Wessel cough* but three actual last names that I float between depending on the circumstance: my maiden name, my legal name and my social name. Growing up I hated my last name. Loathed it. Despised it. Couldn't wait to get rid of it. It was weird (Welsh roots), no one ever spelled or pronounced it right and it was just too easy to bastardize into a taunt. Add in a strategic 'r' and voila! Instant hilarity. I was going to be just like my mom: get married right out of college and change my name! Except life didn't quite work out like that.

I had boyfriends since the age of 16 but none of them were ever the *One* so single I remained. Got an apartment, got a job and for seven years built a career with my god-awful maiden name. But something strange happened along the way: I no longer regarded my name as something to be despised, mocked, and shed at the earliest convenience; it was *me* and with no brothers, the possible end of our family name. Then I met Dyl and for the first time, really had to consider what I would do when I said 'I do'. To Dyl's everlasting credit, he never pushed for one or another as I was strongly considering just keeping my maiden name as I was established in my industry as my maiden name and didn't want to have to start again. Ah, the arrogance of youth. But I also believed that sharing a last name would help bind us together into a family unit and be a non-confusing link to any hypothetical children we might have. Who, for the record, are no longer hypothetical as evidenced by the sheer amount of plastic crap in the family room. What to do, what to do.

In the end, I took the semi-feminist way out and hyphenated. I kept mine, took his and went on my merry way. My family, who has a really admirable hands-off policy but a suspicious habit of betting on decisions, kept mum let me know later that in the 'What Will Dawn Do With Her Last Name' Pool that most put their money on keeping my maiden name. My mom was the only one who went with hyphenation. Yay mom. I use my maiden name at work, my legal hyphenated name for taxes and loans and official-type stuff, and Dyl's name as my 'social' name so as not to confuse teachers and neighbors. This has worked out pretty well except for when I can't remember which name I used with which program. "Try F----s. No? Well, try F-----s-L---e.' Oh, hell, just try 'L---e." In an unexpected bonus, I frequently have to spell Dyl's last name too as the silent 'E' really trips people up.

Good thing I've had a lot of practice.

Battle Royale

And it's not good vs. evil or the living vs. the undead. No, it's played out on a grander scale every day. I refer, of course, to the battle for control over the thermostat. This happened at work. INSIDE the building:

Fingers are overrated anyway.

 Yup, my fingers were completely numb. Not to be confused with Nien Nunb.

There once was a man from Nantucket...

I run cold. I fully admit it and always have a sweatshirt with me. I know some folks run hot as I am married to one of them so I make allowances. Some of my coworkers, however, don't feel the same way. Our HVAC system has been reconfigured and stressed so many times that during the most recent lab renovation (oh, say, 11 years ago) the output vent went in directly above my desk yet the system is shared with the cubicles on the other side of the office wall. I get it, they have to crank the air conditioner to feel any cooler so what did they do? They had maintenance relocate the thermostat to their side of the wall so they could control it.

Ah, my old friend, how you mock me

It's 10 degrees Fahrenheit outside right now. I am in a sweatshirt with a small space heater running while the air conditioner blows cold air on my head. Moving my workstation is not an option as when my office-mate was laid off, they took out all the network connections. Complaining is useless. Asking them to, I don't know, turn off the air conditioner in the middle of winter FFS, is tantamount to declaring open war. Not even turn on the heat, just turn off the AC for the love of god!

It's clear my only remaining option is to distract them with pizza and while they're away, pry open the cover and super-glue the control lever to 'off'. It's fool-proof!

If you don't hear back from me soon, send an industrial strength hair dryer. Or a Saint Bernard. Beggars can't be choosers after all.

Weekend Round-Up Scattershot Style

You know how there are some weekends you are just really glad when they end? We had one of those and I for one am very grateful it's now Monday and life goes back to normal. Oh wait. That's right. It's an extended weekend! For Noelle! After just having a week and a half off for Christmas. 'Murica, this is why we can't have nice things. (Today is the day we celebrate the birthday of Dr. Martin Luther King. That's totally cool and way important. What is not was her being off a half day on Friday and all day tomorrow for teacher grading. I digress.)

Friday started with the Great Stomach Issue Watch; she got...backed up. And was in a lot of pain/discomfort but rallied for dinner and a treat. Okay, huzzah! Her fun weekend can go as planned....until after dance on Saturday when she was having a LOT of stomach pains. It sounded like cramps as the pain would come and go and we debated cancelling her birthday sleepover with her grandparents. My aunt was in town so I was taking Noah to my parents' house to visit the fam and have Fifth? Sixth? Twenty-fourth Christmas? So Dyl stayed with her until she passed the bubble while Noah and I headed to DC armed with an overnight bag so I could haz the winez if I wanted to. And I did want to. Lack of will power or responsible planning? To-may-to, to-mah-to. 

The guacamole was almost gone by the time we got there which poor form y'all. My BIL makes the best guacamole and I shoveled what little remained into my face hole. Guac! A snack and a facial all in one. Process improvement indeed. I played Play Doh chef with my nephews and Shannon, I'm sorry but I taught your daughter DREEET!. You'll thank me someday.

Then Christmas: Part the Whatever! Twas cool and fun. Dyl arrived, Noelle off to her other grandparents' house for a manicure, dinner and a show. She was planning on getting green and black but ultimately settled for pink and turquoise. With glitter because DUH. Dyl went back home, Noah and I stayed overnight where the most evil cat in the universe decided I was her personal cushion. The 4 year old got the queen bed and I got the twin...because the twin was in Evil Cat's room and hey Dawn, you don't mind Evil Cat, do you? Nah, sleep is overrated anyway. 

So for those keeping track: Noelle was with one set of grandparents, Dylan was at home and Noah and I were with another set of grandparents. Family time! We do it right! Noah had unfettered access to Nana; many books were read...

perks of being a cuddler

and many humans were passed.

Pass the human down the left hand side mon.

Finally, everyone was home and there was much rejoicing...

yaaaaay.

The Broncos and Seahawks made it to the Super Bowl and all was right with the world until I had to try to talk a 7 year old through swallowing a pill. That worked about as well the production guys actually filtering the products which is to say is not at all.

Maybe next weekend we'll all try being together. And sleeping. That would be grand too.

Leggings are not pants and other random musings

1. They look like pants. They are put on like pants and yet, unless you are layering them under a skirt or pairing with a long shirt, thou shalt not wear them as pants. (Babies and toddler are exempt from this of course because RUFFLE BUTT!)

2. Why is it when you go to bed late and you have to get up early you are compelled to wake every 45 minutes or so to make sure you haven't overslept thereby negating any 'sleep' you do get? Also: still tired.

3. If the 'ladies' on Maury Povich want an easy way to identify their baby daddies, perhaps they shouldn't sleep with so many different men in the first place. (What? Isn't every break room TV tuned into Maury?)

4. Never, ever, EVER argue with the judge hearing your case. It's like the people on Judge Judy have never actually watched 'Judge Judy' before. You only piss her off and make yourself look stupid. Stop it.

5. We're big fans of quality talk TV here at work.

6. Recent dreams have included walking around Old Navy in my underwear and last night added in walking around topless. It was beyond weird but man my boobs looked great.

7. While Triscuits and peanut butter are a delicious combination, choosing to make them dinner two out of the past four nights probably didn't help with the dreams.

8. Related, someone needs to study the link between making extremely poor dinner decisions and dreaming about the lack of clothes. I'd try it again tonight (for SCIENCE) but alas, am almost out of peanut butter.

9. It does not matter what time I leave work in the afternoon; I will arrive home at 5:55 pm due to weather, traffic, stupidity (mine or others. Usually others), or some unholy combination of all three.

10. One word for you: Battleshots. Look for Riskbong to be a thing next year.

You drank my battleship!

Have a great day! Phases on stun, good luck, Kirk out.