Decay Watch

They don’t have a County Hospital for dental emergencies. Explains why so many poor people have obviously bad teeth. Cracked smiles. Black, green, brown smiles. Great gaping spaces. No porcelain crowns or fancy bridgework. Hell, no prophylaxis.( I always loved that word.) Dental work is freakin’ pricey. This is one of those obvious facts that are just beginning to sink in as I now have gone well over a year without a clean and check. Even before I lapsed, I became very vocal in what I would or would not permit according to price. X-rays, again? “No thank you.” Replace that filling? “Well, actually, it seems to be doing fine. Despite the fact that it’s 20 years old.” Hey, just like everyone else, dentists have to make a living. However, as I fail dismally in that regard, dental maintenance has taken a back seat to eating. So, instead, I obsess over my teeth. I fear that tiny fissure in my front tooth will soon make like the San Andreas fault. There seems to be a sensitive spot on the back of my front lower tooth. It looks slightly dark like decay. Oh my. There’s a black speck under the amalgam filling in my rear molar. Hey, that filling is only four years old and it was damn expensive! When all these dental imperfections manifest into their utmost, devastating destiny, I will remember with aching melancholy the swirling water of the spit bowl.

Never Say Never

I am now doing all the things I vowed I'd never do....

1. Rinsing out zip-loc bags for reuse
2. Using single-ply toilet paper (I like Angel Soft)
3. Using generic paper towels
4. Appropriating sugar packets, butter pats, napkins and jelly from restaurants
5. Adding water to the shampoo bottle/detergent bottle to get the last dregs
6. Eating cereal for lunch
7. Reading library books, rather than buying books
8. Using Suave shampoo
9. Actually mailing in the rebates
10. Looking for holiday parties to crash for the free nibbles and drinks

Um....What Was the Question Again?

It’s the questions that will kill you. All the “have you trieds?” and the “what about Blah-blah?” Why aren’t you working in retail or at Starbucks?” “Can you declare bankruptcy?” “WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?” “Maybe you should call so-and-so at XYZ agency…..” (ok, that wasn’t a question) “Are you working?” “Would you consider a lower-level position?” “Why can’t you declare bankruptcy?” “What’s the difference between Chapter 7 and Chapter 13?” “What are you going to do if you get sick?” "Do you have insurance?" “Are you going to sell your house?” “Have you listed your house yet?” “Have you thought about having a roommate?” “How about going back to school?” “Are you out there networking?” “What about a home equity loan?” “WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO??????????????????????????”

People mean well. And hell, they’re just as sick of hearing about it as I am answering the questions. The tricky part is that the situation is so daunting, so gargantuan, so overwhelming, you just can’t skirt around it. It's damn near impossible not to talk about it, not to ask questions about it. Not only is the elephant in the living room, but the pesky pachyderm is also hosing up the peanuts out of the candy dish, knocking over the coffee table, shitting on the carpet.

But, hey, what do you say we try to ignore it anyway? Let’s make a pact. I won’t whine if you don’t ask questions. (Cue the SFX: Uncomfortable silence/drip-drip of the faucet/wind whistling across an open plain.)

Negatively Positive?

Yesterday, I asked my life coach, Dr. Joni Carley, if she had read my blog. She had and said she liked it but that I needed to curb my tendency to put "negative energy" out there, even though she appreciated the authenticity of the entries. I guess I just don't know how telling it like it is would be considered negative. Are all the commentators on forums like the one on Barbara Ehrenreich's site (author of Bait and Switch and Nickel and Dimed) just a puddled mass of self-pitying goo? Or, are we people who need a voice to express the travesty of unemployment, underemployment, "middle-ageism," and all its subsequent economic hardships?

Yes, I know I don't have cancer. Or live in the African wasteland. Or find myself in the middle of a war-ravaged country. Or use a wheelchair. But, I have been struggling for some time now.
And some days, finding the energy to write is the only positive thing I do.

Just for the record, Joni is wonderful and has helped me a lot in the last year. She's located in the Philly area but does most of her work via phone sessions. Check her out!

Further Reductions Taken. And Accepted.

One advantage of becoming poor after having money is that in my former life I had the chance to develop good taste. Yes, I know, money can’t buy you taste. Or love for that matter. But it allows you to be exposed to the finer things and finer (not necessarily morally) people. This, in turn, allows you to enter the “knock-off” phase of life with confidence and vision. Allow me to elaborate. Let’s say you have $15 to buy a new outfit. Yes, you heard right. Fifteen dollars for a whole outfit. Now, you can either go to the dollar store and buy something with let’s say… three-dimensional embellishment (feathers, glitter, puffy embossments, or vinyl candy canes during the holiday season) or go to Target and put together something smashing from the “further reduced” racks. (My heart literally leaps with joy when I see the sales associates approaching with the electronic price guns. It means another price cut.) Recently, I put together a printed chiffon-esque tunic with a sassy tulle skirt all in shades of teal and gray. Yummy.

The only downside to my frugal couture is that I have the urge to immediately tell everyone that the outfit only cost X dollars. Kind of defeats the purpose of savvy shopping, doesn’t it?

Alms for the Poor

I spent a lot of years walking jauntily down the Magnificent Mile in Chicago in warm winter coats and snappy new boots. Or sashaying in a flippy skirt and whatever sandals were in style that summer. I would either ignore or get angry with the street people who aggressively put the hit on me for money. I would avert my eyes, just like many of you do. Or I would think with disdain, “I work for a living. The hell I’ll give you my hard-earned money so that you can buy drugs.” So, you want to hear the most interesting twist of fate? Since I have found myself in considerably less fortunate circumstances, I have given more money to those on the street than I did all those many, many years when I was fat and happy. Even when I’m down to my last bit of change that I have scrounged out of my coat pockets or seat cushions, I give a little. And I take the subsequent “God Bless You!” truly to heart.

Will Bag 4 Food

Ah yes. The discount food store. Places like Aldi and Food 4 Less. These retail operations have proliferated madly in the last five years. Or maybe I am now just being forced to take notice. I feel that, if nothing else, these places prepare me for a job as a bagger. I almost wonder if we will soon encounter an even less service-oriented establishment. What would that be like? Would you enter your choices on a cold gray terminal and catch your groceries as they tumble out of a large chute as you stand outside shivering in a parking lot, trying to corral a frozen ham as it skids across the pavement? I think someone will soon be calling me about my new concept. What shall I name it? Retail Rectum? Love Food Canal? Spew and Chew? Any ideas?

Seriously though, I do really admire one thing that Aldi does. At first it incensed me, then it made sense to me. The pay-for cart strategy. All the carts are linked together outside the store. You have to pop a quarter in the slot to unlink a cart. Then, when you're done shopping, you get your quarter back by returning the cart and linking it back into place. Sure solves the runaway cart crisis. However, I have heard a lot of grumbling from street people.