The Marketplace

Carrie Bradshaw wrote about relationships and investments once. She said, "When it comes to finance and dating, I couldn't help but wonder: why invest?" I spoke with a financial adviser today who told me about their own company's strategies for retirement savings. I, being a 20-year-old fiscally irresponsible girl, needed to hear this.

I resisted every urge to laugh at every instance I heard "save" and "you can't take this money out." I am a better spender than I am a better saver. The guy told me about putting aside part of my paycheck to diversify my stock portfolio (shut up, I actually just found out what that meant today). He told me about all the different sorts of savings vehicles that existed, and which would be better for what.

Didn't that also apply to my strategies for approaching relationships? I, too, liked to diversify my portfolio; I date multiple guys at once, casually. In other words, I have tiny shares of different stocks. That way, if one goes bad, I didn't invest too much (or own too much) of it to fall down along with it.

The variety of savings vehicles (Money Markets, Certificates of Deposit, Roth IRAs, Cash Value Life Insurance, 401Ks) could be analogous to the different boyfriends/significant others.

• You want something that you can invest a little bit in and take out whenever you're done with it? Get a money market. It's taxed when you get it, when it grows, and when you decide you want to take it out and spend it. In terms of investment, financially and emotionally, you never really get the entire amount--just a little bit more than what you started with.
• You want a summer fling? There's your certificate of deposit. It only grows stronger and stronger for a certain amount of time, but there's always a cut-off date.
• You want something better, bigger, more formidable for the long run, you start investing in your cash value life insurance. You put aside a hefty amount every month from your paycheck. I mean, really, you bust your ass for this one. But you gain equity on it. And should you decide to take some of that money out, you get what you put in. It pays you back and then some in the long run. In other terms, this is your classic relationship.

Interesting, huh?

In the whirlwind of diversifying my portfolio and spending my hard-earned money on frivolous items (and "investments"), I have decided to take a step further and start planning for my retirement that looming in about 45 years. I'm putting aside $75 every month, until I can afford more, towards a 401K, cash value life insurance, and a money market whatchamacallit. This is a huge step. I have debt on my shoulders and I'm sure to incur more.

I have baggage from prior investments, prior attempts to save, and prior mistakes. Planning for the future is a specialty of mine and I'm sure I'm ready for this venture.

So the stock market can go up or down or sideways, but this 20-year-old fiscally irresponsible girl is putting her money where her mouth his and is off the market.

Point of clarification

My summer officially started last Friday after my 3pm mojito and fish tacos but I feel like I'm still on schedule. Don't ask me why I put myself through this because I might a) cry and wonder where my youth is going and/or b) laugh and say "Can't help a ho." Either of the above (not to mention to unique combination of the above) is sure to elicit some raised eyebrows and cockeyed expressions.

ANYWAY!

Isn't it funny how, when you break it down to its core, rules are rarely considerate of moral compasses? I mean, you can run over a cat, squirrel, bunny rabbit, or [insert common rodent species here] and you don't get fined, ticketed, pulled over or arrested. You can run over a damn deer and apparently it's okay because they're so overpopulated that killing one is doing a favor for the foliage. But you run over a human being and you're pretty much in shit. Unless you're Brandy. Then you get away with it.

Rules are set for fairness, for some sense of equality, no? If rules are uniform throughout, nobody can slip through and get away with something. But events are rarely as uniform as the rules that supposedly govern them. Enter my never-ending allusion to relationships.

You can like someone (as in feel every emotion you want to feel for that person) and spend time with that someone and show them you care. But unless they like you back, you're only on the giving and not the receiving end of this relationship. And what if the two of you do decide to reciprocate? The boundaries of expectations are "blurry" or "muddled" unless there is some sort of established understanding, right? The understanding is usually:

1. We are just booty calls. I'll call you when I'm not getting any and nothing's good on TV. I might also text you asking the same thing. Maybe even when you're with your girlfriends or a guy you're just "seeing."
   
2. We are fuck buddies. We dine and ditch as soon as the dirty is done. Every Tuesday. Then maybe I'll go for a cigarette/sandwich afterward.
   
3. We are friends with benefits. We will fool around and hang out and genuinely enjoy each other's company, but don't expect me to introduce you to my parents or my best friends. I didn't mean to introduce you to my friends--they just happened to be at the bowling alley when I decided to go there with you after we got to third base in my basement.
4. We are talking. Apparently we've established a mutual interest but nothing has happened between us yet. I hope something will happen soon because I like you.
5. We are seeing each other. Sure, I talk to other people on the side and hang out with others but I'm taking you more seriously than the rest. Oh, what's this? Your best friend? And your mother? Hi, very nice to meet you.
6. We are dating. No official, exclusive label yet: just a lot of talking, affection, and the occasional PDA in front of a sunset. Oh yeah, sometimes we have sex and sometimes we "make love." I giggle when you say we're doing the latter.
7. We are in a relationship. If you so much as check out another guy/girl I'm going to get really quiet and not talk to you for the rest of the evening until you get the hint and then make it up to me by giving me a foot massage and watching The Notebook with me. We'll have sex but I'll "get a headache" before you get off. Yeah. Suck it. But I love you.

Now tell me with a straight face that these "stages" are as all-inclusive as they are in real life?

She is more than her thousand names

Iron & Wine "In My Lady's House"



It is good in my lady's house.
Every shape that her body makes,
love is a fragile word
in the air on the length we lay.

No hands are half as gentle
or firm as they like to be.
Thank God you see me the way you do;
strange as you are to me.

Men: endangered species watch list

I wasn't aware that men all of a sudden became an endangered species. I also wasn't aware that I wasn't the only girl dealing with indecisive men who stashed their bravado (and testicles?) way, way in the back of their closet under the soccer gear they hadn't touched since junior high.

Coincidentally, junior high was probably around the same time they got rejected by a girl whom they legitimately pursued. Oh, how the first cut is the deepest.

Newsflash to you men (not that you would even find yourselves on this page): everybody's been burned at least once. Some have even crashed and burned. And the unfortunate many have even crashed, burned, got into an accident on the way to the hospital, and then ended up with a large medical bill to pay off. Sorry to rain on your already depressing parade, but you're not the only one breaking up inside.

As much as you'd like the girl to take care of the relationship for a change, she's had her share of rejections and heartbreak. If she's putting in more effort than you are, then it's ridiculous. Why?

Because I have two best friends, both girls, telling me about the men in their lives who don't know a good thing when it's right in front of them. If a girl gets dressed up in front of you, does her hair the way you liked, and stays in your apartment for the second movie of the evening, followed by a round of ordered pizza, then SHE FUCKING WANTS YOU. Stop being a pussy, retrieve your balls and make a damn move.
If a girl drives from the suburbs to downtown Chicago at 10pm at night because that's when you wake up from your afternoon siesta, and buys you food, AND THEN helps you do your tax returns, guess what? She wants you too.

I mean "want" in the literal form. She wants you. Just you. All of you. And if you can't gather that from the inconvenience of a great girl sitting at home waiting for your call in an uncomfortable dress, or driving 35 minutes in a blizzard to help you with Turbo Tax, then you need to check your nether regions, because I believe you are not fit to be called man.

Show me how you do that trick...

Everything was fine. Until he came back.

And now all the things I pushed to the side just HAD to go back into plain view the minute he was back in town.

What is wrong with this picture?

How does he do that?!

I dealt with the unattainable by convincing myself that I didn't want it anymore. If it was always in my presence, I had to somehow point out all of the flaws and imperfections. I could not want it anymore just by showing myself all that I didn't like. I didn't deal with the issue, I covered it up with mistakes. Had my strategy of dealing with issues backfired on me?

Did I have to actually own up to how the unattainable made me feel? Ugh. I hate those things, those inconvenient things that fog up your otherwise sane logic. What were those things called? Feelings? Something like that. I had a lot of them before the series of assholes just removed them with each disappointing feat.

I face the music in two weeks. Until then... there's actual music to ease anxiety.

"Just Like Heaven" by Katie Melua (cover)




Why are you so far away?
he said
Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you?
That I'm in love with you?

Relationship shopper

Below is an analogy in progress...


Can I have my boyfriend six feet and an econ major?

I have been a serial dater for as long as I can remember. Comments like, "Yes, I'm single," or "No, we're just seeing each other" were frequently coming out of my mouth. I have started to see dating as something comparable to shoe shopping. Both goals require a hierarchy of sub-goals and the whole experience is filled with a series of planned actions and unexpected consequences. When we go out shopping for shoes, we usually have a pair in mind that we're looking for. For girls, there's that ultimate pair that makes us feel sexy.

The shoe exploration starts out first with the kind of shoe you want. Are you looking for crazy pumps for a night out with your girls or do you need a pair of comfortable flats that will last you for a while? The kind of shoe you're looking for takes you to specific shoe stores. You won't go looking for sexy kitten heels at The Walking Company, would you? (The answer is no.)

Now, you get to the store and you're faced with a collection of shoes. You want something attractive but you want to be able to wear it more than once (or not). How adventurous are you when it comes to a pair? If you're only allotted a given sum of money, do you spend your waiting tips on a mini-collection of shoes, or do you splurge on a pair of designer heels? Likewise, if you had the chance, do you get with as many as you can, or do you go for one guy at a time?

Choosing a shoe is ultimately like choosing a partner. From a girl's perspective, we normally choose the shoe that fits. But if the shoe doesn't fit, we make it work - especially if it's 20 percent off. Needs and wants become muddled when many women are vying for the pair you just tried on during the end-of-season clearance. If it doesn't fit completely, it'll fit one day. The shoe can be a half-size too small or a little too big. But there are heel cushions and Band Aids.

Many women settle for the next-best option. Although we had planned to buy those red patent leather five-inch platform heels, we don't feel too bad walking out with the brown suede slingbacks. They're still hot and we know we'd wear them for a while. Bottom line? We're still happy with what we got.

But what if you don't settle for the next-best option? What if you call every store in the greater Chicagoland area until you find the store that has your size? What if you even go to eBay in hopes that some seller has hoarded the pair that's just right for you? In that case, you're not making your toes bleed because you ended up purchasing the pair that's a half-size too small or too narrow. You didn't spend your hard-earned money on the suede slingbacks that didn't catch your eye the first time around. In this case, you got what you want.

Well, there might be times that the suede slingbacks might come to the rescue when nothing else in your shoe rack seems to match that crazy outfit you put together. And maybe, at the end of the day, it might have turned out to be the pair you were looking for all along.

Dating and shoe-shopping, albeit two different activities, share similar characteristics. We all want to find "the one" eventually, but settling for "the one right now" or "the one just for tonight" is entirely dependent on the individual's needs, wants, and expectations.

From the Chicago Flame, April 27 2009