Why is it that when we have money difficulties everything else seems worse? I hate money. Well not really hate money, but rather hate the way money makes me feel.
I've never seemed to have a firm grasp on how to manage my money. I spend it when I have it. Worry about it when I don't. I pay my bills...usually on time. But I never seem to have anything put aside for that proverbially rainy day. I always seem to scrimp and scrimp just to have my needs met, never much, if any, left over...that fabled discretionary income. It takes only one disaster to wipe me out financially because that six month cushion they talk about having never gets put aside.
I always thought that my education would put me in a position to make enough money to build a nest egg, buy a house, create a financial safety net. Well, my nest is empty, I'm still renting, and my net is full of holes! I have a master's degree and I still live from pay check to pay check. And it looks as if I'll be doing that for another eight or more years.
AARP sends me magazines full of suggestions for my retirement. Ha! What retirement? I'm sixty-two. I won't be able to afford retirement until I'm at least seventy if I want to continue to live in LA. Leisure time, travel, retirement activities will wind up being clipping coupons, learning to ride public transportation and I don't know what else, but it better be cheap.
Okay, I know I'm whining. But didn't I say that money issues make everything seem worse. I'm strapped right now. No, I'm not destitute. Yes, I can pay my bill this month. Yeah, I have a job. I have some money, but I'm living close to the bone. Yes, I'm surviving, but I still hate money, especially the way not having it makes me feel.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Disappearing Act
A Poem
I am tired of seeing my talented students disappear
Disappearing into a blunt's haze
Disappearing through prison doors
Disappearing behind a stroller and diaper bag
Disappearing down a dark alley into a puddle of blood
They come to me
Faces shining with possibility
And they're gone
Faster than an unlocked Cadillac
On the corner of 103rd and Wilmington
They are eaten by the system
Rotating foster homes, juvie camp, gangs, and motherhood
Playing grown up before they've had a chance to be kids
Those minds so full of creativity
Closed by hunger, anger, poverty, and hopelessness
A generations of Paul Robesons and Diego Riveras
Lena Hornes and Frida Kahlos
Their dreams falling like rain on the hard black asphalt
Of these streets that vanish our youth like a conjuring trick
I am so tired of my talented students disappearing
Onto streets that turn them into day laborers, sidewalk vendors, criminals
That chew up their beautiful minds and fragile hearts
Make hamburger of their hopes and aspirations
So they give up before they even try
I wish I had a magician's box and a magic wand
Tap...tap...tap...abracadabra
I make my talented students reappears
I'd glue their feet to my classroom floor
Make them see themselves reflected in me
I'd capture their interest
Teach them to believe in themselves
Teach them something to keep them here
If only the streets...circumstances...life
Didn't turn my talented students into disappearing acts
I am tired of seeing my talented students disappear
Disappearing into a blunt's haze
Disappearing through prison doors
Disappearing behind a stroller and diaper bag
Disappearing down a dark alley into a puddle of blood
They come to me
Faces shining with possibility
And they're gone
Faster than an unlocked Cadillac
On the corner of 103rd and Wilmington
They are eaten by the system
Rotating foster homes, juvie camp, gangs, and motherhood
Playing grown up before they've had a chance to be kids
Those minds so full of creativity
Closed by hunger, anger, poverty, and hopelessness
A generations of Paul Robesons and Diego Riveras
Lena Hornes and Frida Kahlos
Their dreams falling like rain on the hard black asphalt
Of these streets that vanish our youth like a conjuring trick
I am so tired of my talented students disappearing
Onto streets that turn them into day laborers, sidewalk vendors, criminals
That chew up their beautiful minds and fragile hearts
Make hamburger of their hopes and aspirations
So they give up before they even try
I wish I had a magician's box and a magic wand
Tap...tap...tap...abracadabra
I make my talented students reappears
I'd glue their feet to my classroom floor
Make them see themselves reflected in me
I'd capture their interest
Teach them to believe in themselves
Teach them something to keep them here
If only the streets...circumstances...life
Didn't turn my talented students into disappearing acts
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
What to do when you don't want to go to bed...blog
I'm tired, really tired, but I don't want to go to bed. I've been having strange dreams lately. This is not a new situation. I often have strange dreams. They usually precede a period of transition...change. Oh, have I mentioned I hate change?
I have always been change averse. I like stability. I think that comes from my fractured childhood--too many moves, too many schools, too many homes that weren't my own. Yes, I like things to remain the same. I like to know that what happens one week will probably happen the next, that the address I'm living at will be where I'll be living a year from now. I order the same thing at restaurants where I often go. I wear the same style of clothing I wore five years ago. I am comfortable with consistency.
However, I know that change has to happen for one to continue to grow as a human being. I know the world changes around me whether I want it to or not. Change is really is consistent. I should embrace it.
But here I am, sitting in front of my computer, writing to keep from going to bed and dreaming. Shakespeare understood dreaming. He has Hamlet say in his soliloquy pondering whether he should continue life, "to sleep, perchance to dream." He also left Bottom with the idea that his meeting with Titania was only a dream. I wish, like Shakespeare, I could write the course of my dreams.
Truth be told, I know I have to change. Sometimes I wish I could it without the vivid dream life. Well, I've blathered enough. I can't put it off any longer. I've got to go to bed. "To sleep, perchance to dream." Good night all. Wish me sweet dreams.
I have always been change averse. I like stability. I think that comes from my fractured childhood--too many moves, too many schools, too many homes that weren't my own. Yes, I like things to remain the same. I like to know that what happens one week will probably happen the next, that the address I'm living at will be where I'll be living a year from now. I order the same thing at restaurants where I often go. I wear the same style of clothing I wore five years ago. I am comfortable with consistency.
However, I know that change has to happen for one to continue to grow as a human being. I know the world changes around me whether I want it to or not. Change is really is consistent. I should embrace it.
But here I am, sitting in front of my computer, writing to keep from going to bed and dreaming. Shakespeare understood dreaming. He has Hamlet say in his soliloquy pondering whether he should continue life, "to sleep, perchance to dream." He also left Bottom with the idea that his meeting with Titania was only a dream. I wish, like Shakespeare, I could write the course of my dreams.
Truth be told, I know I have to change. Sometimes I wish I could it without the vivid dream life. Well, I've blathered enough. I can't put it off any longer. I've got to go to bed. "To sleep, perchance to dream." Good night all. Wish me sweet dreams.
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