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.

Eureeka!

To Neil Clark Warren, the Religious Right, the Alternatives to Marriage Project, and all you downers who luuuurve to quote divorce stats at newlyweds and engaged folks:

I have found the reason for the divorce rates in this country: Advice given on thenest.com. Every single thing you post about - my inlaws are assholes, we've been trying for 6 months and I'm still not knocked up, my H might lose his job, we can't agree on a color to paint the bathroom - the advice is the same: "Have you no self-respect? Leave this loser!"

Now in all fairness, it's not quite as asinine as its sister board, theknot.com. That site is a bunch of self-righteous bridezillas insulting each other's weddings, stalking one another, and predicting divorce rates. Yeah, some of the posts are funny, but it's more sad. Among their posters, you will find 17 year old fiancees; couples who have been together 2.5 years and have a 15-month old son (you do the math); 20 year olds on their second wedding; ladies who are not even dating anyone yet already planning their weddings, and lower-middle class brides still living with Mom & Dad while planning a lavish extravaganza in 2010. Surely, though, those of us who are married ARE better than people who are single/engaged, not to mention those of us who got married in the "magic" window of maybe 24-29 are just mature enough to get married but not old enough to be desperate hags, but why flaunt it?