Lesson Plan

 

As small (and not so small) people all over Boston head back to class, I’ve been thinking how much I wish there was a life school for grownups–a way to get my learn on in a way that was compatible with my interests, fit into the kind of time I have on my hands, and helped me hold myself accountable for using my brain.

Then I realized: duh, there is already a way to do that, and it’s called “go make yourself a weekly syllabus–a to-do list for your brain and body– and then talk about it on your blog.”

So!

Here’s a peek at this week’s curriculum at the Kitchen Door Academy for Young Ladies Who Watch Too Many Cop Procedurals and Would Like to Read More Books.

(I might work on the name.) 

1. Literature: Finish up  Richard Ford’s Independence Day, which I’m halfway through and really liking, as part of the big Pulitzer Plough-Through of 2009. 

2. Current Events: Park myself on the couch tonight to cheer on Our Handsome President as he attempts to make it possible for poor kids to get vaccinated for chicken pox. Because that’s just the kind of dirty pinko I am. 

3. Phys. Ed: Head out for three evening treks to Castle Island, complete with sweatpants and photo documentation. Bonus points if I can convince Tom to come along. 

4. Math: Finally open up that IRA I’ve been squawking about so as not to end up 77 and destitute.

5. Music Appreciation: Spin seven new cds. Among the discs I snagged  from the library this week: Bruce Springsteen’s 18 Tracks, Ray LaMontagne’s Trouble, and something by Daniel Lanois, of whom I had never heard until today.

So that’s what’s in the assignment book for this week. I think in the future I’m gonna try and do this on Mondays, and finish up my homework by the end of the week to preserve that oh-so-valuable weekend time. 

Meanwhile, can we talk about this? If you were running a grownup life school, what subjects would you include? What would the assignments look like? Would there be homework? Would there be snacks? Does anybody want to play along?

And yes, I was a teacher’s pet.

where the train is headed

Starting in April, I’m cutting back to part time at work.

Yikes. 

I know.

In this economy, it seems foolish and wrongheaded not to take every minute of work I can get–to voluntarily cut my regular paycheck by almost  a third. To think I can make up the difference by freelancing, by applying for writing grants, by starting my own company. Probably I’m an idiot.

But I don’t care.

I’m twenty-three. I have a list of goals that is ten miles long.

And I need a few mornings a week to get cracking on them.

So here goes.

Road Not Taken

I had my grad school interview on Monday. It didn’t go how I thought it was going to go. That isn’t to say it went badly. I didn’t trip or pronounce banal incorrectly or make a fool of myself in any obvious way. It was fine. I think I might get in. 

I just don’t think I’m going to go. 

One thing about me is I’m good at school. I’m not trying to be a snot or anything. Some people are good at driving race cars. I’m good at school. Give me a book and a set of instructions and the promise of some positive reinforcement if I do it right, and I’m happy as a lark. I like order. I like reading. And, frankly, I like being told how smart I am. 

The hardest part of the transition to adulthood has been the openness of it all: with no report card every semester, I’ve had to create my own rubric to measure my progress, whatever that means. And since I’m not flying to the moon or publishing wildly successful vampire novels or saving the world, I tend to be sort of hard on myself. You should be doing more, I tell myself constantly. More, more, more. 

I think grad school seemed like the perfect plan because it would have hit two buttons at once: the school thing (have I mentioned I like school?) and also the life thing. “I’m in grad school,” I could say when people asked what I was up to. “You’re in grad school,” I could tell myself on all those nights I couldn’t sleep from wondering what the hell I was doing with my life. Never mind that I wasn’t so sure anymore that I was actually interested in the field I was planning to study: the studying itself was a way to buy myself some time before I had to make the big decisions. A way to feel like I was doing something without actually having to commit. 

Except it is a commitment. A huge one, in time and money and effort. And as I listened to the assistant dean explain the program–and it is a good program, I think, full of the order and reading and discussion I like so much–and wondered why I didn’t feel more excited, a thought occurred to me:

this is too high a price to pay just to stave off the fear.

And so I’m going to tread lightly in 2009. I’m going to learn to live with the uncertainty. I’m going to write and cook and love my family and wait until the next step is presented to me. 

I don’t know yet what I’m going to do with my life.

I don’t know. 

I don’t know.

I don’t know.

And that’s enough for now. 

Works for Me Wednesday: A Christmas Plan

My ragged little family is sticking close to home for Christmas this year, at my parents’ rambling farmhouse in New York, which was built in the 1600s and served as a stop on the Underground Railroad. It’s beautiful in December, a creaky, charming castle when times are easy–and a creepy frozen jail when they’re not. I swear, the house has taken on a positively spooky quality in recent months, as my parents live there in unhappy silence, biding their time until the monster finally sells and they can move on. 

 

We so, so want them to be able to move on.

 

In the meantime, though, it looks as though we’ll be limping through one more Christmas there. Neither my mom nor my dad are exactly bursting with holiday cheer, and since nobody was falling over themselves to decide how exactly we were going to fill the time, my sister and I sat down for a peppermint latte-fueled meeting on Sunday morning and came up with a plan for the 24th and 25th. 

 

I remember reading an article in Martha Stewart where she was talking about how when she has friends to her grand palace for the weekend, she plans out activities, lets people know when and where they’ll be happening, then leaves them to their own devices. She probably wasn’t referring to organizing Christmas festivities with your divorcing parents, but hey. I find that while Martha doesn’t always understand my problems, she can usually help me find a solution. So here you go, family: this is what’s happening behind the kitchen door this holiday. Everybody is welcome to participate as much or as little as they’d like. I love you madly. Come as you are. 

 

Christmas Eve: 

 

·      Morning baking! Snickerdoodles, which we’ve always done, but my sister and I are going to start a new tradition, as well: A Christmas cake. Because why shouldn’t you have a cake on Christmas?

·      Love Actually and White Christmas in the den in front of the fire

·      Lasagna, garlic bread, and a giant salad in the dining room

·      The Christmas Vigil at the church we grew up in 

·      A trip to see the lights in this neighborhood nearby where they’re famous for going hog-wild

·      Eating of said cake, and present opening

 

Christmas Day:

 

·      Pancakes!

·      A trip to the movies to see Seven Pounds, and maybe Twilight. Because why shouldn’t you watch vampire movies on Christmas?

·      A laid-back, buffet-style, noshy type of dinner with cold cuts, really good rolls, and vegetables

·      Monopoly in front of the fire. And, you know. More cake. 

 

If you’d asked me a year ago, this is not how I would have pictured my Christmas going. We’re letting go of so many holiday traditions: the Christmas pageant at the church where my parents were married; watching the skating at Rockefeller center; Christmas Day at my uncle’s on the Upper West Side. But futures change. You adapt. You make new traditions, because someday they’ll be the old ones. Someday this will be how it’s always been. 

 

So here’s to you, family, and here’s to you, Christmas cake.

 

This year, and all years, you work for me. 

Hungry

We’re two weeks out from Thanksgiving, and I think I’ve got my menu pretty much nailed down. I’m doing two separate dinners—one here with a few friends, and one with my family a few states away. For sanity’s sake, the two meals are going to look almost identical (luckily, I’ve never met a mashed potato I didn’t like). Here’s what I’ve come up with:

 

Nibbles: Apples, crackers, Brie

 

Turkey (I go really simple with the turkey—I roast it the same way I do a chicken, with butter, salt, pepper, garlic, and plenty of basting)

 

Sides:

Sourdough Stuffing with Sausage and Pears

Ina’s roasted winter vegetables

Sauteed green beans

Mashed potatoes

 

Dessert: This is the only place where I’m going to mix it up a little bit. My dad has specifically requested a cherry cobbler (totally weird, right? But it’ll make him happy, so). At my house, though, I’m going to go with an easy apple pie topped with some vanilla ice cream. A couple of months ago I picked up a metric ton of cookie cutters at a yard sale, so I’m thinking I’ll attempt something like this.

 

Yikes.

 

What are you all eating on Thanksgiving?

 

Today I’m grateful for: free movie passes!

So Let Us Summon a New Spirit

I was looking back at my October goals this morning, and it occurred to me that while I knocked off the financial and writing goals, no problem, I blew it with both of the “fun” goals. Didn’t even touch ‘em.

 

This probably says something rather unflattering about my personality.

 

So let’s try to turn the fun dial up around here this month, shall we?

 

November Goals:

 

1. Get all my Christmas presents squared away—for under $300.

2. Have two successful Thanksgivings—one here, and one at home with my dad and sister (more on that to come)

3. Start journaling again

4. Learn to crochet—anybody know of a good online tutorial?

5. Show my gratitude. Show my love. 

Goaltender

I’ve always been a goal-driven kid. Actually, the hardest part of adjusting to grownup life has been the lack of a syllabus: no list to check off as I complete each task, no grades to give me a clear idea of how I’m doing. Clearly, this is a shining example of my anal-retentive, Type-A personality, but the truth is I function better with a plan.

 

So, in the spirit of living a simple, organized, frugal life, I’ve decided to set some goals for the month of October. My thinking is that a monthly check-in will keep me honest. So here goes!

 

Money Stuff:

1. Add $300 to my Extras account, to make up for what I’m spending on vacation (more on that here).

 

Writing Stuff:

1.    Complete four new freelance assignments for Rollick.

2.    Blog every day (not counting vacation).

3.    Write ten more pages of the novel.

 

Fun Stuff:

1.    Put together a Halloween costume for under ten bucks. I have purple tights and Super Grover underwear. I’m going to need a cape.

2.    Start Christmas shopping. Yesh. This one’s going to be tricky, especially since I’m trying to save everywhere I can. But I’ve got some Amazon money, and some crafty business in mind. So we’ll see.

 

Man, I feel more productive already. I’m going to go roast something. 

Home Fires

 

My parents are getting divorced.

 

Now, before I go any further, I’m not looking to throw myself a pity party here. I mean, I’m twenty-three. I had a relatively drama-free, two-parent childhood. I have functional relationships, and very few lasting scars. It could be so, so much worse.

 

Still, they’re my parents. It doesn’t tickle. And it’s messed with my understanding of what my family is, of where I come from. My concept of home is shifting, and the idea of the holidays creeping closer fills me with a kind of discomfort I’ve never experienced.

 

The best I have been able to do is remember that my tribe extends way beyond the four people in the photograph on my desk, that even when I feel like I’m losing my footing I have built myself a web, Charlotte-style, to catch me on the way down: there are friends from high school who have loved me through innumerable bad clothing choices and all manner of adolescent meanness, and soul sisters from college who are scattered across the country but rooted deeply in my spine. The Lost Boys I lived with after I left the dorms never fail to make me smile, nor do the giggling girls from every job I’ve ever had. And of course there is Leprechaun’s family, the huge hollering clan of them, who write and call and send boxes full of Minute Rice and mayonnaise, because you never know when you’re going to run out of things like that.

 

As the fall creeps in—as it gets darker and crisper and the boats start to disappear from the harbor—I want to gather them around me. I want to bake them pies. I want to start traditions of my own so that the next time something shakes me like this (and something will shake me; that’s the nature of somethings) I’ll be ready.

 

Here’s how I’m building my home—and my web—this season:

 

1. Cranking up the oven. I wasn’t kidding about the pies. For me, nothing says autumn like comfort food, and I’m looking to keep my kitchen smelling delicious. On the agenda are pumpkin bread, all manner of roasts, and maybe a casserole or two. I’m trying to keep our food supply as local as possible, so I’ll keep hunting the farmer’s market until it shuts down at the end of November.

 

2. Opening my doors. We had a constant stream of visitors for much of the summer—the roof deck makes for easy entertaining. Now that it’s getting too cold to use it, I’m looking for some creative alternatives. I’m a huge fan of potlucks, and I’ve got some ideas for a Halloween costume party, as well as a sort of alternative Thanksgiving—more on that as we get closer.

 

3. Getting out of town. Frankly, nothing makes me want to throw my energy into cultivating my home like leaving it for awhile. I’ve got plans to see friends all over the place this autumn, trips to Philadelphia and New York and Michigan, if I’m lucky. Leprechaun and I have a vacation in the works, too, and I can already tell this season is going to fly.

 

4. Making a clean sweep. Before I go ahead and batten down the hatches, it’s important to me that I’m only sharing this space with stuff I absolutely can’t live without. I’ll be going through my summer clothes before I store them, selling off some old books, and generally giving this place a good scrub.

 

So that’s what’s cooking around here for the next few weeks. What’s on your agenda for the fall?

City Love

 

Not too long ago, one of Leprechaun’s buddies and his fiancée stayed with us for a night on their way to New Hampshire—they live about an hour outside of Dayton, OH. The four of us were sitting on our roof with some snacks when the topic of how much it costs to live here came up.

 

“Um, that’s more than our mortgage,” Buddy said, when he heard what our monthly rent is. “And we have a pool.”

 

Well.

 

Leprechaun and I have always been city kids, and overall we’re really happy with the decision to spend our twenties in an urban area. We’re surrounded by people our age, there’s a ton to do, and the noise and bustle of a city is a great remedy for the post-college isolation I sometimes feel. But it’s a trade off. Because we’ve made the decision to live where we live, everything–rent, food, a night out–costs a lot more than it might were we living in rural Ohio.

 

Also, we do not have a pool. We do, however, have a large puddle of standing water at the top of the stairs to the roof.

 

Still, I’m not about to let location deter me when it comes to streamlining my expenses—and my life. Even in a city, there are a ton of ways to save money and still live well. Here are a few that have been working for me:

 

1. Public transportation: I can’t say this enough. If you’re trying to reduce your transportation costs—and your carbon footprint—there’s no easier way to do it than by taking the train or the bus. There are months when Leprechaun pays more in parking tickets than I do for my 30-day pass. To make the most of the time it takes for me to get to work, I got some audiobooks from the library and put them on my iPod.

 

2. Dirt cheap produce: I think I mentioned last week that by switching farmer’s markets, I slashed my fruit-and-veggie budget by half. The nice thing about living here is that I do have the option to shop around, with the added bonus of a variety of international markets, as well—you’d be surprised by how much cheaper spices are when you’re not buying them at Stop & Shop.

 

3. Free entertainment: When I was in college and lived in a dorm on one of the busiest streets in town, we used to throw our windows open at 2am when all the bars let out and watch the show. Talk about low-budget entertainment. Short of taking pleasure in other people’s drunken shenanigans, however, your average city offers a plethora of free activities every night of the week, from wine tastings to movies to soccer games. Leprechaun and I have made a date night out of strolling through art galleries, or simply walking down to the beach near our house.

 

4. Crowd control: Because our apartment is not at all huge—about 700 square feet—we have to be extra-careful about what we bring home. As a result, we’re cautious about purchases big and small—if it’s not beautiful or multifunctional, it doesn’t make the cut. I try to get rid of something for every item I bring in, because if I’m not vigilant about selling or Freecycling the excess, it piles up real fast.

 

Yes, there’s a Dunkin’ Donuts tempting me on every corner. Yes, a glass of house wine can cost eight bucks. Yes, I could probably trade my puddle in for a pool if I was willing to pack up and move elsewhere. But I bring my own coffee in the morning, a I’d rather crack a beer at home with some friends than drink overpriced pinot noir at a badly-lit bar.

 

As for the pool—well, yeah, I’d like a pool. But I can wait.

 

I think I’ve mentioned before that living simply and frugally is about more for me than just saving money. It’s about getting the most out of my life as it is now, and hopefully squirreling a bit away for the future. At this point, the benefits of city-living outweigh the cost. And that’s the way it should be.

 

So what about you all? Is there something you do to save money that is specific to the place where you live?