The B Word

Not THAT word. “Budget”, reader. Dear Lord, this word makes me cringe. Mostly because it either makes me think of government appropriations time or massive numbers I can’t comprehend in my everyday life. But, God help us, they’re necessary.

In planning our move to Chicago, it’s become increasingly important to take a good, hard look at where our money goes. I think I’ve referenced this before, but we’re trying to keep ourselves to a budget to help us prepare for our drop from two salaries to one (M will be a full-time student at least for the first few quarters), but it’s certainly not easy and is actually a little embarrassing when you see where your money goes. While I’m sure you would all be enthralled for me to now pull out my checkbook and give you a line by line analysis of our finances, I’ll spare you. Instead, I’ll give you a little example of some of the things we’ve learned.

Food.

What happened to the $1 for a big helping of chicken biryani off the streets of Bangalore? (Granted, that might be why I got an intestinal worm. But, whatever.) A dinner out in DC rarely comes with a bill of less than $50. So let’s say you’re being really, really good and you go out to eat three times in one month (I don’t think we’ve ever actually done this, but we’ll pretend for a moment. By the way, DC has some really fantastic restaurants. Where you spend much more than $50 for dinner. Trust me.) That’s at least $150 spent on something that you can only have once and that is gone from your system in 24 hours. At the most. Then, of course, tack on to that the occasional work-day lunch at an average $8.50 per person. If you eat out every day in one work week because your wife doesn’t get up in time to make you a lunch (and you’re too busy sleeping)*, that’s $42.50, and double that if your wife does the same for herself. $85 a week for a crappy sandwich?! Say that happens a total of two weeks in a month, and that’s over $300 on eating out (adding together lunch and dinner). This doesn’t even begin to capture what you spend at your grocery store each week. Maybe we should look into weeks of fasting.

Alcohol.

Oh man, if only we were Southern Baptists who hated the firewater. Unfortunately, as our dear friend Matt says, we’re Whiskeypalians (or rather Bourbonicans) who appreciate the occasional drink with dinner, especially when eating out. But a glass of wine usually ranges from $7-$11 (more if you’re at a nice restaurant) and even a beer is pushing $7 these days. Maybe it’s just the types of restaurants we like. But dang, that’s a lot for a single drink. And it adds up, too. Say you go out three times in the month, as I proposed above, and you and your husband have two beers and two glasses of wine between the two of you. And your wife even decides to drink the cheap wine. That’s 28 EXTRA dollars per meal for alcohol alone. That’s over $80 a month for what amounts to six drinks (that aren’t even that big, anyway). If your husband EVER drinks bourbon out (cough, cough) that’s another $12- he doesn’t like the cheap stuff- to tack on. Sheesh.

Rent.

Gone are the days of living in a group house where you can pay $550. Actually, scratch that, because I don’t think my rent has EVER been that low. Sure, living in the city is cool and we wouldn’t have it any other way….but when I say what we pay in rent, most of our friends outside of Washington, DC (minus friends in New York) gasp and pass out. And we got a really good deal! Granted, we’ve heard gunshots outside, but that’s just part of life, right? Anyhow, add to that utilities (especially in the winter) and we’re talking about no small chunk of change.

And, reader, that’s just a few of our monthly expenses. Suddenly we’ve realized that our two salaries go much faster than we ever expected and living on just one, while also trying to not use all of the educational loans we’re offered, won’t exactly be as easy as we thought it would be. That said, I think it’s a lesson in priorities, and is teaching us that maybe we don’t need a lot of the things we thought we did. And at least it hasn’t killed us yet.


If I don’t post here for a few weeks, someone send out a search party.


* I should note that the husband in this story has been so amazing and has been making lunch for himself and his wife for the past two weeks because his wife is actually getting up early and going in to her office gym (yes, she has a gym in her office building) to work out. Pray this continues.

I'm in the movie

That’s right, friends. M and I are GOING TO BE IN A MOVIE!

Now before you get too excited, let me explain. As you all saw from the previous post, my office building is being used for the Reese Witherspoon/Jack Nicholson/Owen Wilson/Paul Rudd movie currently being filmed in Washington, DC. Yesterday they started setting up for taping again, and this time they brought out the big guns. Lights EVERYWHERE. Literally, all over the block. Wardrobe rolled in. Director’s Trailer parked outside. Much more “stuff” than before. And taping was to begin that evening.

Being the naturally curious people that we are (cough cough), M and I decided that we would sit out on the patio at the restaurant next door to our office (Bobby Van’s) and “see what we could see” if you know what I mean. M studied film while in college, so he’s into the camera angles, etc etc etc. Let’s be honest though, people. I’m in to seeing the celebs. In case you hadn’t already figured that out. And in case I haven’t told you about my myriad of sightings. I know, I’m ridiculous. Whatever.

So we sat down on the patio in a prime “viewing” spot, ordered our drinks and…well, sat there. We watched really, really pissed off drivers trying to get around the massive light trucks. We saw them hose down the sidewalk (uh, what?) We saw attractive-looking people walk back and forth in front of us (apparently Paul Rudd stood right near our table, and I didn’t even notice…which a co-worker, who was also there, told me later). We watched big black SUVs pull up, then pull away. La dee da, what fun. M even saw the director (again, can you tell he actually cares about the “making” part of making a movie?)

Then, I think somewhere around the second drink, another big black SUV pulled up a couple yards in front of us. At this point it’s getting late so we know the “stars” are about to show up. And lo and behold, hopping out of the back of the SUV is cute, sweet Reese Witherspoon (and she is itsy bitsy). Hey, cool! And look, there’s Paul Rudd, who I actually recognize now! They’re making a movie!

So we began to wrap up our imbibing when we hear, “EXCUSE ME! EXCUSE ME! I’VE JUST BEEN INFORMED THAT THIS AREA IS GOING TO BE IN OUR SHOT.” Yes, reader, this was our big break. We were informed to “look natural” and “don’t look at the camera” (where the heck IS the camera anyway?) as soon as we heard “ROLLING, ROLLING, ROLLING.” And they took about ten different takes.

Reader, I NAILED it. I looked so gosh darn natural, it looked like I WAS a natural. I twirled my champagne, looked into M’s eyes, and pretended to say something witty. I’m sure they caught it ALL. Granted, M said we won’t be much more than a background blob, but hey, I had on a BRIGHT ORANGE shirt, so at least I’ll be able to pick out my part of the background blob.

I’ll be signing autographs this afternoon if anyone is interested. Just call my agent.

Top Five Things you Learn when You're Moving

5. The question "So when are you leaving, exactly?" makes you want to run and hide under a couch somewhere and cry.

No, really. I promise I will buy a plane with a big banner that says "M and E are leaving DC on XXXXX" (or some similar announcement) when we finally know. Believe me, I wish we did know. Shoot, I even have our "We've Moved!" cute little notices ready already! We're working on it, people! (And yes, I know you ask because you love us. We love you, too. It just stresses us- ok ME- out.)

4. Apparently the worlds of other people don't revolve around you.

Shocker, right? I'm pretty sure there's not a hiring manager in sight who has the same priority as me of "getting me a job as soon as possible". Haven't quite figured out why yet. OH wait. Probably because I am in no way a priority to them. Good lesson in humbleness, which I'm trying to take in...sort of.

3. Moving requires money.

Boxes cost money. Shipping peanuts cost money. Moving trucks cost money. Gas for said "gas-guzzling moving trucks" costs money. Apartments cost money. New parking stickers cost money. Should I go on?

2. You have a lot of crap.

I'm not talking about emotional baggage (though leaving a place- even for a little while- will make all sorts of emotions come out. Believe me). We're talking STUFF. Left-handed golf clubs that have not been used in probably 5 years (mine). Books from college (mine). Millions of picture frames (mine). Twenty different mixing bowls (mine). Millions of pairs of shoes (mine). Clothes you haven't worn in years (mine). I think there's a pattern developing...

1. You start to realize how much you're loved

Not to pull out the cheese on this one, but we have been overwhelmed by the love and good times we've been able to have with old and new friends alike. Maybe moving does something to you sort of like death (here comes the really bad analogy....) it makes you really value the time that you do have, and makes you want to strengthen bonds so that they are more likely to stay in place in the future (not sure how that works with the death analogy, but whatever). And you find out that people literally all around the country are praying for you, that they are hoping the best for you and, in our case, are hoping that we'll return to this community soon. And that really does make the tough times a little more bearable. Sniff, sniff.

My building is famous. Maybe I will be, too.

Yesterday around noon something strange started to happen at our office building. All of a sudden, I noticed someone putting up a bus stop outside of our office. “Uh, what?” I thought. “I wonder what bus line this is going to be? Horrible for traffic.” Then, about 2:30, I started to notice furniture appearing in our building lobby. Weird “doesn’t belong here” sort of furniture (pleather benches and large sofas. That do not belong in our 1920s beaux-arts office building). As a sidenote, I should say that my office building, The Bowen Building, really has quite a beautiful lobby. Black and white marble floors, beautiful wood paneling, all very high class. So what was with the bus stop and the tacky furniture?

When I finally left the office in the early evening, I stopped to ask the man vaccumming the carpet for the tenth time what exactly was going on.

Dude: “We’re filming a movie here.”

Me: “What movie?!” (trying not to act TOO excited-when it comes to celebrities, you have to act like you don’t care)

Dude: “It’s called ‘How Do You Know’ with Reese Witherspoon, Owen Wilson and Jack Nicholson.”

(silence/crickets)

Me: “Here?”

Dude: “Uh, yeah.”

End of scene.

So reader, my office building is going to be famous!! Granted, they’ve covered up the part where it says our organization’s name, and the lobby is almost unrecognizable at this point. But this weekend and next, Hollywood’s brightest stars will converge on my humble (working) abode to film scenes for their movie. And I’m just a little bit proud.

Isn’t it just so unfortunate I’ll have to come into the office this weekend to get some work done? Maybe Jack Nicholson will buy me a coffee.

Note: the map above should not be used to mob Owen Wilson.

Overheard: Coco ain't happy

Ok, so it's another Overseen. Maybe I should just officially change it. I tell you what, the things a girl can see around this big ole city!

Yesterday I went over to Starbucks to spend $2.41 on a Venti, unsweet black iced tea, no water (yes, that's really what I order. Apparently so do 3 out of my 5 aunts on my mom's side. MJ and Elizabeth?) But before I ordered, as I was standing waiting, I saw this gem.



Ok, great, the Chanel logo. I wouldn't mind a nice, new Chanel suit...or shoes, or bag. But it wasn't an item of clothing or accesory.

It was a tattoo. Behind a girl's ear.

People, that just ain't right! One, the tattoo no doubt cost LESS than any one single Chanel item (minus the makeup. Their face mask is awesome, by the way.) Two, that just ain't classy. The Chanel logo was NOT MEANT to be drilled into your body in ink form. And three, do you think this woman would be happy at the sight of it?? She kind of scares me.


I'm pretty sure Coco Chanel is turning over in her chic-ly quilted grave right now as I write this...

Who needs an alarm clock when you have a jackhammer?

This morning I was awoken by the beautiful noise of...a jackhammer. Yes, that's right, DC WASA (Water And Sewage Authority maybe?) is doing some sort of pipe improvement and, therefore, has to completely tear up our entire street which, in turn, means we have to find alternative parking AND apparently, we get to be awoken by jackhammers!!!!!! Good thing I'm not working from home this week.

The winter coat problem

Believe it or not, we really ARE moving to Chicago. Just don't ask when, where we'll live or what I'll be doing. Cuz we don't know.

In the meantime, I've been making lists of things that we'll need to do/buy/take, and the top of that list is: winter wear! Small problem. To me, this is winter wear:

When we were visiting in April, one of our friends said "I would love to go winter coat shopping with you!" To which I replied, looking down at my cute black car coat, "This IS my winter coat!" Apparently this will not suffice, however, in Chicago. The above is like a summer coat for them. More like an August coat. Great. I'm going to look like an eskimo. Or the Muffler Man. I'll spare you the picture.

So I've started to do some research on the best coat to get (ie ask friends who live where it's cold) and I've come up with the following as an absolute necessity: full-length, down North Face/LL Bean/Eddie Bauer/other outdoor place brand, probably in black. It needs to have a hood, and an extra layer to zip in or out is a bonus, too. We're not talking about a ski jacket (which I already have) or a little wool coat with one layer of lining (already have 3 of those). We're talking full on "looks like I'm wrapped in our down comforter five times" coat. And for it, I have to give the store our firstborn child. Oh and then I need for real boots (not like cutesy little furry ones) that I can stomp through the snow in. With five layers of socks. And my toes will probably still freeze. Fun times!!!!

I've also come to the realization that I will actually have to dry my hair before heading out to work (wherever that is) between the months of September and July. I've had a couple days here in DC where my hair started to freeze because I didn't take the time to dry it, but Chicago is like a whole new league of frozen hair. They are NOT kidding up there. And I would like to keep my long hair, thank you very much.

So it's slowly starting to sink in that winter might be just a wee bit more intense in Chicago than we're used to, having grown up in Texas and Florida. And to prepare, we're going to have to get coats, boots, gloves, scarves, wool socks, a couple cute new dresses, maybe a pair of heels or two and any other number of items. All for the sake of staying warm, of course.