Freddie

I really must stop looking at job offers in L.A. All it does is frustrate me to be living in this Podunk town working at this Podunk wage. (And please explain to me why my spell check automatically capitalizes Podunk, as if it’s an actual proper noun or something?)

I have a two-year plan, I am working the two-year plan. This is my mantra. I love my job, I love my town. As long as this job is in this town, I will remain. In this job. And town. When my boss does move to Nevada, that will be my cue to look for a different job, in a different town. Did you get all that? There will be a test later.

My boss is out of the office today, down in Beverly Hills giving his seminar to wealthy people who want to make more money than they already have. I suppose that’s a good thing in the long run. Go wealthy people! Right. It’s a beautiful day here in Central Oregon, the office is empty and quiet, and life is good. What more could a girl want? :D

So I'm expecting a little over $2k back in this year and last years tax refunds. Every year my refund gets eaten by my husband's previous inability to pay his bills. Love the man to death, but we are the proverbial Mutt and Jeff when it comes to finances. I am Little Miss Financial Guru (that's my scientific name), almost literally, I manage an entire financial securities investment firm and commercial real estate development company, which sounds very difficult, or so I'm told, but is really fun and easy to me. It's just what I'm good at. And my husband is Mr. Spend Spend Spend! Or at least he was before he married me and learned how to pay his bills, on time no less.

Last year, I let it slide, because it wasn't much of a refund anyway. But this year I was looking at over $1000, so when the IRS snagged it to pay his old debts, I got a little pissy about that. Luckily, on the back of the notice they included several paragraphs on "what to do if this is your spouses debt and not yours" so bingo, I hauled up the ole IRS.gov and printed out my little forms. Along the way, I discovered a $1200 tax credit I forgot to take in 2005, so amended that return and filed for the Injured Spouse Allocation (their term, not mine) and when all was said and done, I swear I heard angels singing the hallelujah chorus. (Or it might have been Rage Against the Machine's Killing in the Name… I can't be certain.) Whichever, I'm feeling quite smug and proud of myself for finding another $800 refund on my 2005 return, and for figuring out how to get back my 80% of the refunds. Go Freddie! Go Freddie! It's your money. It's your money. Ahem. Well, yes. You get the picture.

So, I’m once again thinking about studying psychology. Not in a “quit my job tomorrow” type of way like before, but more of an “ease into one class a term” kind of way for right now. Since I’m encouraging my husband to do the same thing, going back to school, not studying psychology, we can’t exactly both quit our jobs and go to school full time.

Here’s my quandary. If it’s just about making more money, and therefore having more money to invest and give away (I’m a big charity person), we could move to L.A. where I can make double my salary in a heartbeat. If it’s about building skills to be able to do God’s work through counseling, then I need a degree, which will only take 10-12 years while attending part time. Not a show stopper in and of itself. But certainly something to stop and think about.

On top of that, after those 10-12 years of schooling, I’ll have to take a fairly large pay cut to get my first job, because my only experience is strictly on a volunteering basis. Getting a psychology degree is not about the money though, it’s about being able to use those skills for the good of others. While moving to L.A. would be about the money, but about using the money for the good of others. The thing about getting a job in L.A. is that I already have 8-10 years of work experience in that field, not to mention bunches of fantastic references and the confidence that comes from knowing when you are seriously good at your job. I mean I know I’m a good counselor too, but my resume can’t prove that to anyone else.

Another bonus to living in L.A. is that my husband is a certified personal trainer and L.A. is like the land of milk and honey for personal trainers. In Central Oregon they want to pay him $10/hr, in L.A. they’d be paying him $25/hr bare minimum. And making that kind of money would give him more free time to prepare himself for a body building contest, which is one of his personal goals.

To further muddy the waters, I really know that we’re supposed to be in Central Oregon right now. So I don’t know if it will be another year or more before it’s right for us to move away, or even if that will ever be the right thing for us to do. Which is fine for now, since my job is great, and building me more experience in this field should I decide to use said experience in L.A. at some point. But it’s still hard to know what to do.

So I think this is how I’m going to play it for now. I’m going to start taking part time classes at the local community college that interest me and are in the psychology field. Tuition is a fantastic tax break, and it’s always good to broaden your horizons. By next year I think I’ll have a better idea of which direction we’re headed, and I’ll either have my degree started and we’ll stay in Oregon, or I’ll have another year of work experience and we’ll move to L.A. The really nice thing is that I’d be happy with either option. So here’s to being happy no matter what. ;)

WARNING: For those whoactually know me, this is probably way more info than you ever wanted. ;)

But this is why I post anonymously online, so I can talk about whatever I want without it coming back to bite me on the ass in some future job interview where they suddenly ask, so I hear you like lots of sex? Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

First, I have this problem. I have values. Strong, black and white, no gray space here, morals. And the funny thing is that it’s not really about my religion, it’s more about my personality type. I’m honest. Brutally honest. I’m loyal. Hardcore loyal. I’m a right or wrong kinda person. There’s nothing in between. Sure, I’ve learned to let little things slide, because after a while, people get annoyed at you for pointing out every little thing that you think they are doing wrong.

Second, I have an above average female sex drive. Which is great when I’m married to the seriously gorgeous built guy of my dreams, right? Not really. Not so great when he has a below average male sex drive. He likes sex, and he always thinks it’s a good idea if I start something, but it’s never his idea. So if I don’t initiate, neither does he. Hmmm…

And even though he cheated on me, I can’t cheat on him. I am loyal and honest to a fault. I have no desire or ability to be with anyone else while I am married to him. Not that I don’t think about it, but it’s more like a “wow, what I’d do if Gerard Butler (Christian Bale, insert gorgeous buff actor with an accent here) showed up at my office” sort of thought. When I actually look at men I see in public, my thoughts are, I wonder if he’s a Christian and I wonder if he’s loyal? Because my husband isn’t, or wasn’t at any rate, and I’m still trying to figure out how to work that into my marriage. It was never something I expected to be dealing with, so even though we’ve moved on and our marriage has survived, there is still plenty of lingering pain, not to mention serious trust issues going on. Which mostly pisses me off because I came into this marriage completely baggage-free, and my husband created baggage that I hate.

Just watched Reign of Fire this weekend for the first time, and totally not a Matthew McConaughey fan, because I don’t like blonds for some reason. But he got all big and buff and shaved his head and presto chango, suddenly he was hot. I have a thing for big buff built guys, which I guess you could tell by who I married. Accents are better though, Scottish is the best. Christian Bale and Gerard Butler are both tall, dark and handsome with an accent, that’s the whole package. Well, I guess being a pet lover would round out the whole package for me, because who else is going to take me with 6 cats and 2 dogs, and whatever other strays show up at my door.

So see, I do understand that my husband is perfect for me, and I’m not expecting marriage to be perfect. It’s a process, just like everything else in life. I just don’t know how to get past some of the issues we have right now. Go figure.

This is me.

Personality Strengths of the Melancholy

Deep and thoughtful
Analytical
Serious and purposeful
Genius prone
Talented and creative
Artistic or musical
Appreciative of beauty
Sensitive to others
Self-sacrificing
Conscientious
Idealistic
As a parent, sets high standards and wants everything done right.
As a homemaker, keeps everything in order.
As an employee, schedule oriented and hard working.
A list maker and keeper.

Personality Weaknesses of the Melancholy

Easily offended
Can get too caught up in details
Doesn't do well with change.


This is my husband.

Personality Strengths of the Sanguine

Light hearted
Fun
A people person
Loves to extend hospitality
A peace maker
Enjoys children
Spontaneous

Personality Weaknesses of the Sanguine

Scatter brained
Impulsive
Doesn't finish what they start
May avoid facing problems

Any questions?

The beauty of it is that apparently these two personality types are the most compatible, if my counselor is as right as she normally is. Well, okay, what she really said was that the sanguine is the most compatible with the melancholy, who is apparently not very compatible with others at all. Go figure! So that would be why it takes a very certain type of man to deal with me. Hmmm… who knew?

What is up with all the random spammy friend requests?? Why do they arrive in dozens? I mean nothing for weeks and then bam, "You have 10 new friend requests from Bambi, Brittnay, Mandy, Brandy..." And it's all stupid girls that I would never even acknowledge in public. The kind that annoy me to no end, the ones that can't drive, the ones that wear short skirts and thigh high leather boots to the office and then want to be taken "seriously". Who are you kidding?? If it looks like a slut and walks like a slut and dresses like a slut... Duh. Welcome to the real world.

Don't get me wrong, short skirts and thigh high leather boots have their place in society. But it's the women who can't figure that out that drive me insane. I have no tolerance for stupidity. Which as a Christian, is bad. But hey, God made me this way so clearly He knew what I was up against. White trash ignorance is the worst. It makes me believe in forced sterilization.

So I guess there's no question why I have very few girlfriends. And funny enough, the ones I do have are exactly like me. No joke. The women that I get along with and can build actual friendships with are generally the same personality type I am. Maybe that's God's way of saying He's sorry for littering the world with worthless women. At least he made a handful of us the right way.

I forgot to update on the weekend events, namely Trace was in town and played a small concert at my church and it was fantastic, of course. He is so much fun to watch, he has such a great, wacky sense of humor. It was a blast. He's gonna be back in town in April and we're going to invite him and his wife out to dinner. They're such great people.

I found this on someone else's page, and yes, it was a man. A marine I think. But this is hilarious. Either I can seriously take a joke or I just seriously love men. (Let's assume both.) Well, not "men" as in plural, just "man" as in my husband, but I meant, "men" as in I prefer the male gender... oh you know what I mean. 27 is my personal favorite. But then I would love an XBox for Christmas.

The International Council of Manhood, Ltd Rules Of Manhood:

1: Under no circumstances may two men share an umbrella.

2: It is OK for a man to cry ONLY under the following circumstances:

(a) When a heroic dog dies to save its master.

(b) The moment Angelina Jolie starts unbuttoning her blouse.

(c) After wrecking your boss' car.

(d) One hour, 12 minutes, 37 seconds into "The Crying Game".

(e) When she is using her teeth.

3: Any Man who brings a camera to a bachelor party may be legally killed and eaten by his buddies.

4: Unless he murdered someone in your family, you must bail a friend out of jail within 12 hours.

5: If you've known a guy for more than 24 hours, his sister is off
limits forever unless you actually marry her.

6: Moaning about the brand of free beer in a buddy's fridge is forbidden. However complain at will if the temperature is unsuitable.

7: No man shall ever be required to buy a birthday present for
another man. In fact, even remembering your buddy's birthday is strictly optional. At that point, you must celebrate at a strip bar of the birthday boy's choice.

8: On a road trip, the strongest bladder determines pit stops, not
the weakest.

9: When stumbling upon other guys watching a sporting event, you may ask the score of the game in progress, but you may never ask who's playing.

10: You may flatulate in front of a woman only after you have brought her to climax. If you trap her head under the covers for the purpose of flatulent entertainment, she's officially your girlfriend.

11: It is permissible to drink a fruity alcohol drink only when you're sunning on a tropical beach... and it's delivered by a topless model and only when it's free.

12: Only in situations of moral and/or physical peril are you allowed to kick another guy in the nuts.

13: Unless you're in prison, never fight naked.

14: Friends don't let friends wear Speedos. Ever. Issue closed.

15: If a man's fly is down, that's his problem, you didn't see anything.

16: Women who claim they "love to watch sports" must be treated as spies until they demonstrate knowledge of the game and the ability to drink as much as the other sports watchers.

17: A man in the company of a hot, suggestively dressed woman must remain sober enough to fight.

18: Never hesitate to reach for the last beer or the last slice of pizza, but not both, that's just greedy.

19: If you compliment a guy on his six-pack, you'd better be talking about his choice of beer.

20: Never join your girlfriend or wife in discussing a friend of
yours, except if she's withholding sex pending your response.

21: Phrases that may NOT be uttered to another man while lifting
weights:

(a) Yeah, Baby, Push it!

(b) C'mon, give me one more! Harder!

(c) Another set and we can hit the showers!

22: Never talk to a man in a bathroom unless you are on equal
footing: i.e., both urinating, both waiting in line, etc. For all other
situations, an almost imperceptible nod is all the conversation you need.

23: Never allow a telephone conversation with a woman to go on longer than you are able to have sex with her. Keep a stopwatch by the phone. Hang up if necessary.

24: The morning after you and a girl who was formerly "just a friend" have carnal, drunken monkey sex, the fact that you're feeling weird and guilty is no reason for you not to nail each other again before the discussion about what a big mistake it was occurs.

25: It is acceptable for you to drive her car. It is not acceptable for her to drive yours.

26: Thou shalt not buy a car in the colors of brown, pink, lime green, orange or sky blue.

27: The girl who replies to the question "What do you want for
Christmas?" with "If you loved me, you'd know what I want!" gets an Xbox. End of story.

28: There is no reason for guys to watch Ice Skating or Men's Gymnastics. Ever.

29: We've all heard about people having guts or balls. But do you really know the difference between them? In an effort to keep you informed, the definition of each is listed below.

"GUTS" is arriving home late after a night out with the guys, being assaulted by your wife with a broom, and having the guts to say, "are you still cleaning or are you flying somewhere?"

"BALLS" is coming home late after a night out with the guys smelling of perfume and beer, lipstick on your collar, slapping your wife on the ass and having the balls to say, "You're next!"

We hope this clears up any confusion.

The International Council of Manhood, Ltd

It was a hellacious trip. All my cousins were sick, and I think I would have been fine if I’d actually made it home on time. But I got stuck in Salt Lake City for a night, with only 5 hours of sleep and plenty of stress in trying to get home, so of course I woke up Sunday morning with the creeping crud. Home airport was fogged in so I diverted to Portland and hubby drove over to pick me up. He’s so good to me. (Which reminds me that I need to forgive him and move on, at some point.)

Free Trace Bundy concert this weekend at church, very nice. Trace Bundy concerts are always a blast.

So my dad is giving me a chunk o’ money to use as a down payment on a house. It can only be used for that purpose. Which is fine. Except that we can’t afford a house here in Central Oregon. We pay $600/mo in rent for a cute 2-bedroom apartment with free laundry and a 1-car garage. The very cheapest, crappy, square, tract, fixer-upper house here would cost us $900/mo bare minimum for a mortgage payment. And that’s after the chunk o’ change down payment. Without the down payment, we’d be looking at $1200/mo or more for a mortgage payment. Yes, I could afford that, but I would hate my house, and I don’t really want to be white trash house poor for a crappy house I won’t even like.

On the other hand, there are lots of cute little historic fixer-uppers on the Western side of Oregon and Washington that would cost us somewhere between $200 and $400/mo in a mortgage payment, AND I would love fixing up my cute little historic house. The only problem being that my job is here in central Oregon. One of these weekends we’re gonna drive over and look at several possible houses for sale, because with a $200/mo mortgage, we could afford to buy a house and fix it up, while still renting and working here for the time being. When the house is ready to live in, then we could either rent it out for a while, or move over as soon as we find suitable jobs.

Oh right. In fact, there’s currently an open city job I need to apply for in that area that pays really well. Let’s see, cut my rent by $400/mo AND get a $4/hr raise. Riiiiiiiight. Can you say gravy? I knew you could.

My 94-yr-old grandmother died this morning, and of course it's very sad, since she was my favorite, and last living, grandparent. But she was a wonderful Christian who lived a seriously full and happy life, and I just pray I can live like that for over 90 years. I'll be busy for the rest of the week trying to figure out how to get to Baltimore and who will feed the pets while we're gone, so if I neglect my blog, it won't be for long, I promise.

Of course, my boss is gone for the next two days so it might be that I'm so bored at work I'll have plenty of time to blog. Who knows.

More later.