The Desperate Housewife

I am closing in on week 2 of unemployment and can easily say... it's really boring. And I'm disappointed in myself. Not so much for being one of hundreds who lost a job in a company that's a hair's breadth away from bankruptcy, but just that I haven't accomplished anything thus far.

I had all these great ideas - rejuvenate a family business, start an etsy store, grow a garden, make my house greener, get in shape, really think about what kind of job I want, write the great American novel that redefines chick lit... and so far, I have accomplished none of this stuff. Yeah, Mr. TMCL's been really supportive, but I feel so badly just leeching off him. And that's when it really gets driven home to me that there are oceans between being a Stay-at-home-mom vs. being a Stay-at-home-wife. At least if you have kids and don't work outside the home, you're doing something - making a difference in someone else's life, accomplishing the molding of other human beings, contributing to society.

And let's face it, keeping a 4 bedroom house clean when 2 people and a bunny live there is so not a full time job. It's maybe about 3 hours a day if you want to keep the place perfect - ie, gourmet homecooked meals, cleaned and dusted every day, etc - with no need for the husband's input. I mean, if he's the only one really contributing money to this household, it's not really fair for him to have to do anything around the house when he gets home. But of course, then, being Martha Steward... I worry that I'm going to get too used to it (both the freedom/relaxation and the cleaner house and better food) and then have major adjustment issues when I head back to work.. Such a catch-22. Because, let's be honest, as weird as this feels having nothing to do... it's still better than all but one job I've ever had.

And you'd think, the weather would be considerate enough to at least be summer while I'm out of work. Or at least put something on Daytime TV that doesn't suck. Between my fertility issues, our materialism, my increasing refusal to eat non-organic food, and our anxieties about the economy and the general direction in which this country is headed (hell in a handbasket).

Cancer PSA

Enough is enough is enough
I can't go on, I can't go on, no more no
enough is enough is enough

-Donna Summer (actually singing about a dude, but it also applies here).

Far be it for my Catholic ass to speak on matters of science, but can someone please explain to me how email forwards and cute frilly pink merchandise ad nauseum is supposed to cure breast cancer? I think anyone who doesn't live under a rock is "aware" of this horrible disease and (most of) the risk factors.

Has anyone ever done a study on how much of the proceeds of this merchandise actually go to breast cancer research anyway? Am I the only one who finds it ironic that companies that put formaldehyde, parabens, DDT, and God only knows what other carcinogens in their products are now trying to raise money to cure a disease, when their irresponsibility has contributed to its rise? How is my having a pink mixer/scarf/whatever going to act as my personal talisman against cancer?

What's my motive not to just give that $70 directly to the Mayo Clinic or whatever, rather than to Clinique/Lily Pulitzer/Swaworski/Kitchenaid's latest addition to the bandwagon? For heaven's sake, it's a deadly disease not a fashion statement. Get it together ladies - if we think not enough money is going to breast (or any!) cancer research, perhaps we should be lobbying our government, not gossipping amongst ourselves while going shopping.

Obsession

There has got to be a name for the syndrome by which the scorned wife starts feeling affection toward her husband's mistress. I'm taking an active role in decorating an entire story of our house (the "mancave") in homage to her. I sometimes go to see her with my husband, and have been known to spring for pizza for the occasion. I am even helping him save to buy a ridiculously high-end electronic device so that he can communicate with her more often.

Bonus: by having this device, he will establish once and for all amongst the neighbors that he DOES have the largest penis in the subdivision.

I guess she's not such terrible person. She's very ambitious and makes buttloads of money (not that she shares with us). We have the same favorite color (blue). I only have to compete with her 4 months out of the year, and mostly then just on Saturdays. It's only in her company that my husband and his evil sociopath of a brother could get along before my husband ended the world by marrying me.

And to be fair, my husband's love affair is practically guaranteed never result in my getting an STD, not to mention he will never get her pregnant (largely because they don't have sex... although I'm sure the thought could cross his mind if it were physically possible; she's supposed to have a hottt pussy). Maybe because of her crotchety but notoriously endearing old Brooklyn-Italian father.

She is Penn State football, and he is obsessed.

Why I'm employable

It never fails to crack me up when someone just assumes I'm this ubergenius because I work in finance.

Finance... is not rocket science. It is glorified algebra. Which when you don't have a bitchy nun throwing chalk at 40 screeching teenagers instructing you, is child's play. The fact is, everyone who works in finance, got there specifically because we are not quite smart enough to become rocket scientists. What finance professionals are paid for, is not our ability to do 7th grade math, but rather, our high personal thresh holds (if not imperviousness) for boredom. That, and borderline or full blown OCD.

But, keep the money coming my way, please.

Personal Finance PSA

I was bitching to a friend today about how much harder it is to save money now that my mortgage payment is significantly higher than my rent.

"But you own... a house is like a bank account."

Um. Dude. No. A house is a place you live in (and usually own). I cannot walk up to the water heater, burn a candle for the Wells Fargo Gods, and say, "Hey, can you spot me $100? There is this really cute pair of wedge heels at Nordstrom's..."

It doesn't work that way. Unless it is 2005, or unless your or an immediate family member needs an expensive and lifesaving surgery, or unless you are using that money to make major repairs/upgrades to said home, the equity you have in your home is not play money. So if you are buying new furniture, designer pocketbooks, Carribbean vacations with it, you're a moron.

Furthermore, unless you own your house - you you you, as in you have paid off the mortgage and own the place outright - that equity's not really even yours yet.

Which means: When my rent was $X and my mortgage is $X + $600... that means I have $600 less a month to save/use as play money. Which is like taking a 9K paycut (on top of which Uncle Sam has been anally raping us both on taxes since we tied the knot), and on top of that, I'm paying 1/2 the money if the toilet breaks/carpet needs replaced. So deal with it if I bitch about finances every now and then. First time homeowners in their 20s often have a less than financially comfortable first couple months.