Thoroughly Urban

Status Updates

2010-09-20T20:28:00.012-04:00

I left Facebook. Temporarily. I thought I would be gone, oh, maybe three weeks. Instead I was gone almost two months. It was so hard to return. But I did. When I returned, I decided to spend a couple of days catching up all who wanted to read about what went on while I was gone. Because I delete my Facebook wall every week, and because I want to keep the stories I wrote, I am transferring them here.

Status Update:

Story #1: I deactivated my FB account. Why? I don't know. It was a gut feeling. The world has been spinning in wonderful ways since.

Story #2: Last month I told my landlord that if he didn't fix this problem I would call the Board of Health. This photo was taken when the leak in the ceiling was small. (You should see it now)

Story #3: I got my hair cut. Short. Why? I don't know. I was sitting at Great Clips waiting for my son to finish getting his hair cut when I thought, "Do it! If you don't like it, it will grow out." I love it. I can have happy hair, angry hair, calm hair,and bad-hair-days. Short hair is so versatile.

Story #4: I announced to friends at a Sunday brunch that I was going to move out of the house by the end of September. I've had it! So what if the rent is cheap. I feel cheap. I also am afraid that some day a rodent will fall through the ceiling or that my tub will fall through to the living room.

Story #5: The next day my landlord asked me to move out. ASAP. Like yesterday. The Board of Health threat did it. So I start looking for a place to move to.

Story #6: Started reading Walden by Thoreau.

Story #7: I wanted to live downtown Indianapolis. I love downtown. I love all the activity and how close it all is. So I started looking for a place downtown.

Story #8: In preparation for the eventual move I decided to purge everything pre-2002. So I grabbed all my journals and diaries (from 6th grade on) and lit a fire in a cement flower pot and burned each page. THERAPY! Once that got started, everything else from my childhood was easily disposed. I only kept my baby pictures.

Story #9: After 3 weeks of not being on FB I stopped thinking in Status Updates. After 4 weeks I stopped thinking of FB. After 5 weeks FB no longer existed for me. There was a huge liberation in not being on FB.

Story #10: I disconnected the internet. Suddenly I felt more human than android. Odd. I didn't know I had become part android.

Story #11: After 3 years working for the School Of Informatics I finally took a week off. I was possessed by the Purge Demon. I needed to get rid of excess crap. Also, I needed to find an apartment.

Story #12: Trashed: two fully-loaded, body-sized trash cans. Goodwill: 14 boxes & 10 lawn-sized bags.Unwanted furniture piled in the livingroom waiting to be disposed (to various people...if you are looking for something, I may have it--just ask;free for the most part). My son's comment a week later: "I thought you were getting rid of things!"

Story #13: I couldn't afford downtown living. I reassessed what was important for me in an apartment and after spending 3 years in a house that's rotting and a neighborhood that has seen its share of sirens and police, I opted for safety. I can't afford downtown safety.

Story #14: An emotional weekend convinced me that I was in this alone. So on Labor Day I power-down my phone. Suddenly, my bones went silent. And for the first time I felt completely human. It was glorious.

Story #15: when I disconnected the internet it only affected my son and me. I had my Droid so I still had access. When I disabled FB it affected some friends who didn't know I had disabled it. But when I powered down my phone all hell broke loose. I have been told that if I do that again Iam to check in frequently.

Story #16: during all this I kept looking for an apt. I found it. I don't know if it's because the owner knows all his tenants, or if it's because his tenants make it a point to say hi to him or if it's because people will stay there for years. Or maybe it's his calm voice. I signed a lease.

Story #17: I think I'm done with the stories. I'm all caught up. I'm packing. Will be taking possession on the 1st. North side of Indy. I have furniture I'm trying to give away. See my mobile photos for items, if you are interested.

What surprised me most were all the comments on my stories. I didn't include them here because this post then becomes cumbersome. But it was delightful hearing from friends and getting their thoughts and reactions.

Returning

2010-09-11T16:22:00.000-04:00

Coming? Going?

I admit. I strayed. I went to Wordpress. But now I'm back. I strayed from Thoroughly Urban, also. But now I'm back.

So much has changed...not in the last eight and a half months I've been gone from here–hardly anything has happened over the last eight months. It has been within the last half a month. I have stories to tell, but not right now.

Right now I just need to come back. To get started. To stay started.

If I don't love it, I'll get rid of it

2009-12-28T18:59:00.007-05:00

When I moved into this house I promised myself that the only things that I would ever let "live" in my bedroom were things that I loved. You see, I'm notorious for scavenging any old thing because it might some day become useful. It's a relic from my Scottish mother who was born near the Great Depression.

The one voice that I have to extract from my mental coding is my mother's voice (and actions and insistence) that constantly reminds me: I might need it some day.

That's the voice of a pack rat, of a hoarder, of one who is so afraid of scarcity that instead they have too much. Unfortunately, it's too much of nothing!!!! Of nothing that means anything. It's all junk.

I had a room that I called my Dorian Gray room. It was the room into which I stuffed all those things that someday I might use. I just shut the door and forgot about it. But it sat there and in darkness reflected my scarcity mentality. Yes, it was all shut up away, but it determined my daily life.

Then my son moved in and I had to move all that stuff. Guess where it ended up? Most of it is in my bedroom...the one room I wanted so much to be sacrosanct against the scarcity mentality that lives deep within my cells.

I have complained about being forced to take off the time between Christmas and New Years. It terrifies me. Yes. Terrifies me. Because I know the part deep inside me that wants to rid myself of this scarcity thinking will hound me to get rid of things...things that I think I will some day need! Aieeee!

There's more to being forced to take this time off, but I knew this whole scarcity thing would raise its head.

So now I'm up in my room with a broom sweeping EVERYTHING that isn't a bed and dresser into the middle of the floor.

And here's what I'm going to do. My promise.

If I don't love it I will get rid of it.

How's that? My house is too small to store anything that I don't love. My life is too precious to be occupied with things that I don't love. This is incredibly frightening because eventually it will extend to the bathroom, the living room, the kitchen, and (gulp) to the world outside.

There's no room for that which you do not love.

A Change in Track

2009-11-14T17:59:00.003-05:00

I was derailed. The previous blog made me realize how ludicrous it is for me to expect to eradicate $8000 in one year on my wages. It felt plausible when I was captured by the idea, but when I set it to reality, it fell apart.

In the two weeks since I've blogged, I reappraised my goal. I am still riding some kind of train that won't let me disembark. It keeps rumbling forward, passing stop after stop but not stopping to let me off. And so I rumble along with it, falling into a soothing rhythm that encourages soothing meditation.

I believe the $8000 was the ticket onto this train. I thought the train was headed to Debt-Free station but sometimes what you think something is and what it really is are two different things. I am no longer trying to eradicate the $8000 debt.

My new goal is to live a sustained life in a way that is rich and full without spending money. I hope no one's disappointed that I'm not going to blog about how to save money to get out of debt. Instead I am going to blog about self-reliance in an urban environment...things to do that don't cost money (so it isn't added to any debt).

And I suppose I'll end up green. I'm already on my way....

It Can Be Done!!!

2009-10-19T05:38:00.009-04:00

I did the number crunching. I can actually pay off my credit card debt in one year!!! On my wages! Without getting a second job!!! But there will be sacrifices. There always are. It's give-and-take when money is involved.

Here's how I pay off the card:

I sell my car, drop my insurance, and take Indianapolis Public Transportation. This alone will save me nearly $5000 that I can throw at the card. I can once again ride the bus, fending off toothless men who want to fix me a romantic candlelight dinner in a park (because they don't have a home).

I can listen to the erudite rantings of philosophical drunks who point their dirty nails in my face and call me a perpetrator (because I'm female and most assuredly will make him spend all his money just to keep me).

I can hold my nose and watch with amusement as people shift from the front of the bus to the back of the bus as a man wanders up and down the aisle slurring his words as he says, "I didn't do it. It's not me. I didn't shit my pants." And it's never a dull moment when the bus pulls over, a cadre of big, hulking men get off and hang around until the bus is surrounded by police. The cadre of big, hulking, men turn over another man who is then searched, handcuffed, and hauled off. And I always look forward to bus drivers bending over to help the handicapped, their shirts pulling out of their pants, which have slid halfway down their butts...and...what's that? No underwear? Why did you have to bend over in MY face? And then there's grocery shopping. On Saturdays. With the crazies. Yes. I can sell my car and take public transportation.

I would have to get rid of my phone. No phone. Period. My kids would have to find another provider. But that would save me $1600 (yes, I have a Blackberry so there's a substantial savings in dropping the phone).

Bye bye Bright House. No cable. No TV (oh, wait, I don't have a TV). No internet. Well. That really shouldn't be a problem. I used to not have internet. Back in the days. When I walked two miles to school. Uphill. In the snow. Both ways! Ah, those were the days. (You kids don't know what hardship is!) This saves me $480.

No entertainment extras (going out with friends...not a problem, I won't have a car). No heat during the winter or air-conditioning during the summer. (Not a problem, I know how to rig a bed at work.)

And my grocery budget (for two) would have to be set at $100/week. That includes food, cleaning supplies, toiletries, OTC medicines, laundry (but if someone can come pick me up and let me use their washer/dryer, then I can save there also!).

Last, but not least, no emergencies. They just don't fit into my budget.

So. Yes. I can pay off that credit card debt in a year.

(to be continued)

Three Thirty-Four

2009-10-15T14:06:00.003-04:00

I wake up at 3:34am according to the digital output on my clock. In the distance the train rumbles, blaring its horn, still too far away to be the cause of waking me up. Three thirty-four is normal, though. But sometimes I roll over and fall back asleep. Sometimes I don't. I didn't.

The train continues to rumble, pulsing as it presses forward, unconcerned, steady. The horn blares as it passes through neighborhoods too small to warrant arms that slowly descend to keep cars from racing over the tracks; neighborhoods that only have the blinking lights and blare of the horn to warn them. Caution! Stop!

The relentless pulsing of the oncoming train slides into rhythm with a growing dread within me.

At three thirty-four in the morning defenses are down, the nebulous betwixt-and-between shadows obscure the rationale of a more revealed daylight. At three thirty-four this morning I become one with the train.

The rumble. The pulse. The blare. It moves relentlessly towards me, building pressure, condensing time/space.

I have a dream, a goal. One so compelling that I, Dezra, possessively private and highly wary, am willing to blog about it; blogging with very little privacy mechanisms in place--so unlike me. I am opening up a very private aspect of myself to public scrutiny.

The train approaches. I shift in bed. The panic I've learned to control rumbles in rhythm to the turning of the wheels. Time/space pressure continues to build.

Have I thought through this goal? Have I truly considered the ramifications? (rumble) Is it possible to eradicate an $8,000 debt in one year? On my wages? (rumble rumble) What would that mean? What lifestyle changes would I make? (rumble rumble rumble) What will I lose? What will I gain? Can I DO it? (rumble rumble rumble rumble)

The pulse rises. The train--relentless. I falter. I'm crazy! Crazy! $8,000! Really? The horn blares out a warning cry! It's at Audubon, my cross street! I hear it. Loud. It's warning me. Warning! It's saying, "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

Caution! Stop! At three thirty-four!

The pressure peaks, then the loco-motion rips through the silent connection between me and the other side of the tracks. It cuts through me. Its wheels, steel on steel, slice by.

And then it's gone, the distant rumble leaves me afraid, pensive. Can I really do this? At three thirty-four the air clears. But the doubts....

Spoils

2009-10-14T17:50:00.001-04:00

When I divorced, I left a 26 year marriage. On the whole, it was a wonderful marriage. But people change; I changed; and shared values twisted and turned away from themselves until it became apparent that what we had at the beginning of the marriage was not what we had at the end. So we divorced.

There wasn't much to divide. I left with only:

a chair

an end table

a piano

and a huge credit card debt. I know it's not proper to throw dollar amounts out into the public eye, but I will anyway. The debt was:

Sigh.

I've been living with that for two years, trying to pay it down but hardly getting anywhere with it.

My goal, beginning November 1, is to eradicate that debt. It will be a difficult, fun, exciting, frustrating, and, hopefully overall, a year that I will never forget.

But we'll see.

Beginnings

2009-10-11T17:44:00.000-04:00

I am afraid that if I don't just start, I will wait and wait and wait until the "perfect" moment presents itself. Perfect moments, in my world, rarely present themselves, however, so if I wait, I may never start. Then the drive within me will dissipate and this whole adventure I'm embarking on will become a relic alongside other discarded adventures.

I don't even know how to continue. Do I spill out right now what it is I'm about to do? Do I wait until I know more about what it is I'm about to do? Do I employ the cheap trick of suspense and hold off for two or three blog posts before revealing what I'm about to do?

On the one hand, I don't fully know what I plan on doing...still in the beginning stages. On the other hand, so many ideas flood my head that I think I'm far beyond the planning stage and into the implementation stage.

So I'm starting. I'm committing myself. Right now. Even though the adventure won't start until November 1.

So what is the adventure? I plan on paying off a major credit card in the course of a year. The adventure is the way I plan to do it.

Baby Steps

2009-10-07T18:34:00.000-04:00

Baby steps. That's what they are. Baby steps. Little by little. Even the words I write. Short.

Even this blog. Short.

Then, soon enough, it will grow.