The First Six Months

Thanks to Revanche at A Gai Shan Life for the idea ...

Nick and I met online. And for several months, that's where a lot of our relationship took place - we IMed a lot (remember when you did that not at work?). We were living about an hour apart from each other - me in an apartment, he in a house with his sister. So for several years we drove back and forth every other weekend.

And in that first six months (or what I remember as the first six months - some of these things may have actually happened later, but memory is subjective), we learned a lot about each other. The role of family in our lives, and the role of friends. How we felt about and related to money (hint: we learned to actually talk about it). How we spent our free time. And what we saw in the future.

And we created a lot of memories in those months. Inside jokes we still use today. Fun times, and silly times. I knew right away this was it - after our first or second date I told a co-worker I wouldn't be dating anyone new anytime soon. And seven years later, I still don't think I'll be dating anyone else. And now we've created more memories, created our own little family and learned more about how to relate to each other. But if we hadn't had those first six months, I don't know where we'd be today.

On Becoming a Grown-Up

On Friday morning it was time to go to work. So I went out to my car, started it and put it in reverse to back out of my spot.

And I went forward.

Because I am extremely observant, I quickly surmised that this was bad. Fortunately I park in the yard, so going forward doesn't equal breaking anything. However, going forward instead of reverse does mean my car is broken. Eventually it meant that I needed some shaft in the transmission fixed.

And car trouble is not new to me. What was new is how I reacted. Instead of calling my parents (who, as you'll remember, live like 300 miles away) to bitch/cry at them (because I know the can't fix it), I called Boyfriend. And he helped me solve the problem. My parents didn't even hear about it until way later.

So now, at the age of 29, I am apparently over relying on my parents to fix my problems. Most of them, anyway.

Let Me See the Ring!

So I have recently gotten engaged. (No, not because of the health insurance issues raised in my last post.) And one of the first things people ask is to see the ring. And it's a natural instinct ... I've asked that question myself of the newly engaged female.

And I show them. And I tell them my favorite feature of the ring: It is from a mall kiosk, and it cost $21 with tax. It's pretty -- it says Love and the O is a (fake, obvs) diamond.

"But why didn't you get a real ring?" And not to knock other people's diamonds (if you want one, by all means you should have one), but I do have reasons. To wit:

• It's a custom I don't really understand. Why does the woman get one but not the man? Is she being bought? Bribed?
• They are ridiculously expensive. This is by no means the main reason, but saving several hundred dollars that could be spent on something I do want is a nice perk.
• The diamond industry ... what a racket!
• I don't really wear jewelry. Not for a good reason, I just don't. And my finger tends to vary in size, even within the span of one day (but it's always super tiny).

So those are my thoughts. And I will sport my Piercing Pagoda ring until the wedding date, when it will be replaced by a sweet tattoo!

My Contribution to the Healthcare Debate

I can be a shouter, but plenty of shouting is already happening around the healthcare debate. Nonetheless, here's my story.

Now that I've shacked up and Boyfriend is laid off, it's time to add him to my insurance. I'm lucky enough to have employer-subsidized insurance, and my plan offers domestic partner benefits. It's a high deductible plan, but I have some money saved in my HSA and so far all has worked for me. Perfect. Almost.

I go to work and ask how to go about adding a domestic partner. You have to fill out a form and have it notarized (for the record, you are not required to prove you are actually married with any type of official form). Fine. His premium is not pre-tax like mine and like a spouse's would be. Slightly less fine, but grit my teeth and agree to pay it.

Oh ... and he can't access the money in my HSA. And my employer can't contribute to the HSA at the rate they would if we were married. Not fine.

Apparently it's an IRS rule. Since he isn't married, getting the full benefit of my insurance (which we would be paying for) is too much of a tax advantage. Remember that Boyfriend is not fortunate enough to be employed full-time (not for lack of interest or skills), so a tax burden is indeed burdensome.

So, now it comes down to marriage being a tax benefit for the married. We're fortunate enough to have the option to get married (a subject for another post), but we have chosen to remain unmarried for the time being (yet another post). I don't think access to healthcare is a good reason to get married (I'm sure it happens, though). I don't understand why standing in front of a judge or a minister would suddenly make him more attractive to insurers. I don't understand why marriage is a state institution (oops, treading on the ground of that other post).

So, to recap, my healthy 30-year-old boyfriend and I (a healthy 29-year-old) will pay about $900 a year for his insurance. Which will kick in after he reaches $3,000 in medical bills (let's all hope this doesn't happen). If it's a truly catastrophic event, we will pay over $5,000 out of pocket, and we won't be able to use my health savings account to pay for any of it -- and since we don't typically have an extra five grand, that money will either wipe out our savings or come from some type of loan, or we will pay a hefty tax penalty. We want him to have insurance. We want to pay for it. But the system sure does make it difficult. I've never written to a politician before, but I am researching addresses.

New Abode

All my stuff is moved ito the new place -- not all put away, but we'll get there. I've given my new address to what seems like a lot of people. My old place is cleaner than it ever was when I lived there. So the move is done.

Now I just have to make this my home. I'll have a new schedule, but I'm convinced that after an adjustment period that will be good. Must get a library card. Find a stylist I like. Figure out where the fabled martini bar is (and find a martini I like). Learn all the ins and outs of the local hot sandwich places, oil changers, grocery stores, etc. Every time I've moved to a new town, those are the important things -- home is in the four walls and the other people there, but it's also in the community. I'm largely a homebody, but a girl's gotta have the places where everybody knows her name (or at least vaguely recognizes me as someone who occasionally comes in).

The Big Move

I'm finally making the move to shack up with Boyfriend. It's been a long time coming, yet it seems like it's all happening really fast. But even though it means a lot of change and a certain amount of sacrifice, it's a good decision.

So since I have some time to do the actual moving, and my new landlord is nice enough to let me move in slowly, my goal is to do one moving thing a day. Today I packed up some books to give away and cleaned up my small bookshelf. I never buy books (too cheap), yet somehow I have tons of them. Same with clothes. And furniture. Seriously, where did all this crap come from?

Look At Me

Today, for the first time, Boyfriend and I took his recently restored classic truck to town and really hung out near a bunch of people. Typically, we both drive silver sedans that are almost indistinguishable from hundreds of other vehicles.

It's different being in an attention-getting car. People stare as you drive by - not meanly, just curiously. And when I wave, they seldom wave back ... they're too busy checking out the wheels. Then when we get out, people want to look at the truck and talk about the truck. I am almost completely unqualified to talk about the truck, but since I'm smoother with strangers in general I do my best.

But overall, it's kind of a special feeling to have people look at something you've worked hard at. And it gives me a general sense of community, though we're far from active in the classic car circuit. It's a subtle way to get attention ... subtlety isn't usually my friend, but I sort of like it.

My Thoughts on Weight Watchers

Because there's hardly any information online about Weight Watchers (sarcasm, in case you didn't catch that), I have some thoughts to share.

• Easy-to-follow: Yes. I struggle (a lot) with math, and I can do it. And since I can eat anything, I haven't had a problem being hungry or craving a food so badly I can't stand it. I thought I would be hungry all the time, but I'm not. And when I am hungry, I eat something. I am definitely eating less, but that's the point.
• Effective: I think so. I've lost just over 14 pounds since the beginning of April (one more pound and I get a sticker). Some weeks are better than others, but I can usually pinpoint the results to what I have or have not done during the week.
• Cost: I think that is part of what motivates me. I do the at-work program, so it costs a little more, but if spending money is what it takes me to stay motivated I think it's worth it. The branded foods add up quickly, but I don't buy them.
• Nutritional value: It encourages fruits, veggies, whole grain, lean protein and dairy. Lots of water. Good oils. Hard to argue with that. The branded foods have a lot of unpronouncable ingredients, which is another reason I don't buy them - I find similar products in the store to be cheaper and better for you.
• Meetings: I like them. I happen to like cheering for other people and getting stickers and sharing and learning a little lesson. I know that's not for everyone, but it works for me.
• Overall life effect: When I said I was going to join, Boyfriend said I shouldn't tell anyone. My reply is that people can see I'm fat, so I don't have a problem with them knowing that I'm working on that. And doing it at work means I have a support system there I can rely on. And he's come around now that he knows we can eat in restaurants and cook good meals and even bake dessert. I think more about what I'm eating, but it hasn't made life sad or dreary or dull. I go out, I have a drink on occasion, I have dessert on many occasions (just not as much of it). It's all good.

Overall, so far no complaints with Weight Watchers. My latest goal is to lose 20 pounds (total) before family reunion in June. I don't see this side of the family often, so that would feel good. And I think that's pretty realistic. Further updates as events warrant.

What Could Be

I sometimes wonder if I'm better suited for work in the non-profit sector. I think I might be: I have a lot of causes I feel strongly about, I like helping people, I need a lot of variety in my work, and I'm not motivated by money (which is good, because I did not choose an especially lucrative career path).

Then today I read that women who work for nonprofits are more likely to marry rich men, because they are in contact with wealthy donors. And working in my current job has not led to a lot of (any) contact with wealthy single men.

Anyone have a non-profit job I would be good at? I'm skilled and cute.






Disclaimer: Don't read too much into this. Things at work are fine, and things with Boyfriend are better than fine. But I have an active fantasy life.

Meet Them Where They Are

Once, my cousin (who is much younger and therefore maybe forgivable for this transgression) asked who Michael Jackson was. To the horror of my family, she just wasn't getting any Jacko incidents or milestones. Then I mentioned that it is his song playing at the end of Center Stage*. And she got it. As I knew she would. Then I suggested she invest in a Michael Jackson CD (this is when people still bought CDs).

And today, the importance of meeting people halfway and using something they already love to appeal to them was again driven home to me. For three years, I've been trying to convince Boyfriend of the joy of reading. And for three years, he's been insisting that his one date with the Boxcar Children is all the reading he needs to do.

Until today. Today I convinced him to stop at a used book store. And as usual, he walked away once it became apparent I was going to be there for more than 30 seconds. So I made my selection** and went to find him.

And find him I did. In the section about classic vehicles. AND HE WASN'T EVEN DONE LOOKING! So I got to go back and browse the fiction some more. And when we got back, it was couple's reading time. Which is pretty much everything I ever dreamed of. And since he got to learn about really old trucks and have my feet in his lap, I assume it was everything he dreamed of too.

*A movie I have seen way too many times, though that wasn't entirely my fault.
** I got a book of short stories by Joyce Carol Oates. Because I like short stories, and I find Oates to be the perfect cure for when I am just too happy.