A New Philosophy

Minty Fresh!

Anewphilosophy — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 03:59:17 GMT

Here's something cool: Mint, a free online personal finance application that helps you keep track of your net worth, your budget, your spending habits, and your debt situation.

I find it handy to use the budgeting and spending tools; it's kind of cool to be able to have my computer tell me instantly how my spending has changed over time. For instance, it was reassuring to see how, due to my new job, we have begun to officially build up our net worth again, and to realize again how solid our savings account makes our finances seem.

The only thing that depresses me a little bit is that we don't have any investments, so we can't use the cool investment tracking thingy. Oh, well. Maybe in ten years or so.

Some people might be freaked out about the fact that Mint connects itself to your bank and credit accounts, so you have to give it your passwords for your online banking stuff. But don't worry— it's VeriSign secure and TrustE certified, so if you buy things on the internet anyways, this is really no different, at least in terms of security.

It's a pretty fun little device, actually, and I think it'll help us to identify things that we could cut out of our budget entirely. Check it out!

The Color of Home

Anewphilosophy — Sun, 04 Oct 2009 04:43:10 GMT

As I've discussed recently, Adam and I are really excited to finally have a home that we can make our own: a fireplace where we can burn fires, a kitchen where we can hang shelves, and, of course, walls we can paint.

We finally decided to paint both an accent wall in the living room AND the entirety of our little bathroom. The living room will be a bigger project (mostly because we'll have to move all the furniture away from the wall and work around a humungous hot water pipe), so we decided to do the bathroom first.

The chosen color: Firecracker. That's right: a bright orange-pink color! (It's actually a lot brighter and crazier than the internet photo shows.)

We went and picked up the paint and supplies two Fridays ago, but last weekend we were too busy to paint. So today, after our morning trip to Target in Brooklyn (new coat FTW!), we cracked open the paint can and slapped some of that sweet color on the walls.

And it looks AWESOME.

I've never been a fan of having nothing but blank white walls, particularly in bathrooms— I always think it makes everything look more institutional, more clinical. But out bathroom looks like a dream now! And the color looks really great with our bright yellow towels and shower curtain.

Here's a picture of the way it looks so far:

The only thing we have left to do is the top of the walls up by the ceiling; we'll need to borrow a ladder to do that part, because it's so high up. That's why it looks uneven at the top of the walls in these photos. But it's looking pretty good, for an under-construction bathroom!

We're thinking something equally bright (only in orange or yellow) for the living room...hopefully to match the fire in our fireplace, which will be happening as soon as we get our yearly chimney cleaning.

And while you may not be crazy about our chosen color, you have to admit— you've probably never seen a bathroom painted Firecracker before!

What's the craziest color you've ever seen a room painted? (I saw a photo of a room in a bright, crazy green once— and it looked splendid!)

Cost-Benefit Anaylsis

Anewphilosophy — Sun, 27 Sep 2009 01:37:40 GMT

WARNING: This post contains girl stuff. Y'know, like discussions of periods and vaginas and things like that. Do not read this if you feel uncomfotable discussing the female body.

This article in the New York Times Magazine today had me worried, indeed. It discussed the health concerns that have been popping up over Yaz, the popular low-dose birth control pill that holds the majority of the oral contraceptive market share.

I don't use Yaz, but a LOT of my friends do, and not always for the reasons you'd think. A few use it for acne, for example, or to regulate their cycles, and of course, it doesn't hurt that it prevents pregnancy, either. But I wonder how many doctors are prescribing birth control without really thinking about the consequences.

What makes me wonder this is my younger sister, who, about a year or two back, went to the gyno for a routine check-up. After the awkward breast exam and the unpleasant pap smear (ewwww, does anyone NOT hate that?), her doctor asked if there was anything unusual about her periods. Well, no, she said, but her periods were kind of heavy, which was annoying.

Her doctor's response? Take some birth control pills.

Now, first of all, as many of you may recall, my sister is a lesbian. She's not really in any serious danger of getting pregnant by accident. Ever. So the contraceptive aspect isn't a boon to her. She's not a zit-covered teen, either— she's a twenty-year-old college student, so it's not like she needs acne help. The only reason her doctor wanted her to begin using synthetic hormones was...well...she had slightly heavy periods.

Now, I used to have heavy periods, so I know how annoying they are. I know how irritating it can be to go through a pack of pads or tampons in two days. But really— is it worth the side effects? Is it worth the risk of cardiovascular disease, however small that risk may be? Does my sister really need to put more pharmaceutical products into her blood stream just because her period is a drag?

She told me what had happened, and asked me, point-blank, what I thought she should do. And I told her that, honestly, I didn't think she should do it. I'm on the pill, and that's because I don't want to have a baby. A baby is a major life disruption, and I'd like to avoid that. Heavy periods are just kind of a pain in the butt.

I also told her about the symptoms I have on birth control: weight fluctuation, violent mood swings, crying spells, pain in my abdomen during ovulation. Then I told her about the side effects I had on the birth control pills to which I had bad reactions: the bloating, the sudden weight gain (and then sudden weight loss), the way my hair fell out, the way I was angry all the time. Is that worth that? Is a lighter period, or no period, worth all the added problems?

I'm wondering whether or not we're becoming an overmedicated country— whether or not we're trying to solve our problems with pills. Now, most drugs are very useful, and can improve and save lives— there's no doubt, for example, that anti-depressants can give people their lives back, and can help treat very serious medical conditions. But I think about the people who responded to an old post of mine (in which I expressed how sad and down I was feeling that day) with the advice to go and get some anti-depressants, and I wonder how many people are cutting off their noses to spite their faces. I've BEEN on antidepressants before— when I was still in the needing-medication phase of my OCD. Every night, I'd take that pill, and then ten minutes later I'd start to feel that stinging, stabbing pain in my stomach— the small-print side effect of Luvox, it turns out, was that it could make your stomach bleed. Who knew?

I don't need the OCD medication, anymore, and if I could get off of the pill, I would. (Actually, I might be off of it for good NOW; I couldn't make an appointment at Planned Parenthood in time to get a new pack for this next month, so we're just going to use alternative forms of contraception until my October appointment, and then hopefully I'll have a brand-new IUD!) I think medication is important in improving the quality of many people's lives, but that it shouldn't be your first choice for treating minor problems.

Who else has had crappy drug side effects?

Community

Anewphilosophy — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 02:37:22 GMT

Just got back from matriculation dinner, and— I'm not gonna lie— I'm kinda tipsy. After the service we had a big fancy dinner with lots of wine, so I'm kinda done for the night. (There was also an after party on the roof of one of the apartment buildings; I went for a while, and Adam is still over there as I write this.)

It's so nice to feel like part of a community again. After UWC and Vassar, I became used to feeling like I was part of a community, but in Ohio, I always felt like an outsider. I wasn't born and bred in Y-town, and so that meant that a lot of people thought of me as an interloper. Being interested in learning and reading and thinking wasn't something I could share with a lot of people (besides my family and my husband, of course), so I didn't have a lot of friends this past year.

But here, everyone has a smile for me. Everyone says, "Hello, Philosophy!" (or even "Hello, Sophy!") and everyone asks about my job and my cats, and no one makes me feel silly or uncomfortable or lonely. Do you know that another couple in our building asked us over for dinner on Sunday? In Youngstown, I didn't know anyone else; everyone else there was kind enough to me, but they all assumed that because I was smart, I was a snob.

This is HOME, in a way I never expected it to be. Every day, when I get off of work, I can't wait to get back home. Our apartment may be messy (and it's about to get messier— we're painting this weekend!) but it's where I belong.

I love living here so much. Thank the Lord we made it here at last!

Killing Me With Cute

Anewphilosophy — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 03:24:51 GMT

Sorry I missed the Girl's Night Out, all! I was helping Adam cook dinner, and he was telling me stories about his day. We made chicken tacos (with blue corn taco shells!) and then for dessert we had blackberry milkshakes (yum!).

Anyways, here's what I needed to show you:

Cutest. Commercial. EVER.

What is it about adorable animals that can instantly turn me back into a five-year-old? As soon as the above commercial began playing on TV, I leapt up and screamed "KITTIES!!" like I'd never seen one before. I think I may have actually broken my husband's left eardrum.

I'm a sucker for cute. When I was six, we got cutouts of "Mr. Molar," a smiling tooth character promoting good dental hygiene, in school one day. Mr. Molar was so adorable that I kept him for, oh, I don't know...eight years? At nine, I kept a plastic grocery bag I'd gotten at a store, simply because the "Have A Nice Day" smiley face was so endearing.

New York is a hard place to be addicted to cute, because there are SO MANY CUTE DOGS. Every day I find myself distracted, going to and from work, by adorable puppies on the sidewalk. There have even been some disgustingly cute kitty sightings; every evening, as I'm returning home, I peer eagerly into the window of my husband's professor's apartment (which is right next to our building), hoping that one of her kitties will be sitting there.

What melts your heart?

The Little Things

Anewphilosophy — Tue, 22 Sep 2009 02:52:35 GMT

I thought this was pretty cool: Drop Spots, a GPS website that encourages you to leave special or cool things in specific locations and then post directions to the locations so that other people can find them. Then, when you find the things that other have hidden, you take them and replace them with your own special things!

There are several of these spots listed here in Manhattan. And I can think of some cool things to leave— shells and lucky stones and nice pens. And it would make me feel better about passing up pennies on the sidewalks; I've stopped picking up stray pennies because people here give me dirty looks, and I feel kind of sad about it, and I think this would make me feel better.

Maybe I'll do this over the coming weekend and post the pictures afterwards.

In the meantime, please enjoy this list of other things that can make you feel happy inside.

Breakfast: A Bright Beginning

Anewphilosophy — Sat, 19 Sep 2009 04:15:38 GMT

I've recently become completely enamored of breakfast as a meal.

Now, when I was growing up, I used to HATE breakfast. I thought breakfast was a waste of time, a terrible misuse of those extra minutes between snooze alarms. In fact, eating breakfast actually made me feel nauseous, since my stomach seemed to be unable to cope with food so early in the morning. I was never really all that hungry until I got home from school, anyways, so I never felt like I was missing out by not eating brekkie.

In fact, from about age three until age seventeen, when I left home, do you know what I had for breakfast (if you could call it that) every single day of my life? A glass of Ovaltine. I was OBSESSED with the stuff. Remember those silly Ovaltine commercials with the little kids yelling "More Ovaltine, please!"? Well, I could have been one of those kids. And that was all anyone could coax me into eating before noon...until recently.

About a year ago, though, I discovered the joys of eating a delicious breakfast. Why? Well, part of it might have been the knowledge that eating breakfast is actually really good for you, but another part of it might have been that great middle ground meal— brunch. Brunch is a fabulous idea. Whomever decided that waking up at a leisurely hour, putting on a comfortable knitted sweater (and perhaps a scarf or beret), and drinking any number of delicious beverages (coffee, tea, mimosas...) in combination with any number of delicious food items could be a good idea was a Mighty Genius, and ought to have won, I don't know, the Nobel Peace Prize or something.

So about two years ago, I started with Cheerios. Simple, delicious, easy to fix. Then I moved on to toast with jam— sugary sweet, but also simple and delicious! Then, in France, I discovered the breakfast crepe— and the dessert crepe, which I devoured just as early in the morning as the breakfast crepe, much to the horror of my French host family.

Now, my obsessions are threefold:

-Honey Bunches of Oats. OH. MY. GOD. Someone stick the Philosophy E. Walker Stamp of Approval on this puppy, because this cereal is AMAZING. When Adam first proposed the purchase of such a cereal, I balked; after all, "bunches of oats" doesn't really conjure up amazing taste sensations. But wow, this stuff is SO GOOD. (And probably pretty bad for me, but I break up my HBOO consumption with days where I eat healthier things.)

-Chocolate chop waffles. You know the only thing better than chocolate chip waffles? Chocolate chip waffles made in my HELLO KITTY WAFFLE MAKER. BOOYA.

-Adam's famous "Who-Hash." Adam is an amazing cook, and one day, about a year ago, he invented this awesome egg scramble with bacon, onions, celery, and lots of different spices. He calls it "Who-Hash," after the meal mentioned in The Grinch.

Recently, though, I've felt the need to transition into the era of the smoothie. Everyone in New York seems to be carrying around smoothies, but their smoothies seem to be of the high-fructose-corn-syrup-containing kind, and I figure I could make something even better myself, at home. I have berries, and yogurt, and milk, ad honey, and even tangerine sorbet (all natural!), so maybe those ingredients can combine into a delicious smoothie this week.

I'm always looking for new things to try for breakfast. Anyone have any ideas?

Sugar and Spice, and Everything Nice

Anewphilosophy — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 02:29:57 GMT

Dear America,

Usually, you and I get along fine. I hate your obsession with NASCAR and your hearty enjoyment of Dancing With the Stars, and you hate my liberal hippie bullshit and the way I refuse to buy things that normal people feel the need to buy, but otherwise, we’re cool. I sing along with your national anthem at baseball games, stimulate your economy with my hard work, and do my best to remain educated about your political and social issues, and you provide me with constitutional rights and a place to live (a pretty nice, rent-controlled place, now that you mention it).

But this week, we need to have an intervention. You’ve been having some problems with common decency, and we need to straighten this out before things get any more out of hand.

Let’s make this clear: being an asshole is still unacceptable. The proper way to disagree with someone is to say, “I disagree,” and then list the well-reasoned rationale for your disagreement. You can be as sharp and critical and unyielding as you like; disagreeing with someone doesn't mean you have to be prissy about it. But just because it’s 2009 does not mean that being well mannered and well bred is irrelevant.

The right way to disagree does not include shouting “YOU LIE!” and pointing your finger at people while they are speaking on national television. I’m sorry, Mr. Wilson, but even a six-year-old knows that pointing and yelling is unacceptable. Previous to the finger-pointing incident, I knew nothing about Mr. Wilson; now, the only thing I know is that he was quite possibly raised by wolves. It's not about respecting the office of the presidency— it's about respecting your fellow man, no matter who he is. Don't act like a pig, my friend.

The right way to disagree does not include telling someone that they don’t deserve the award they just won while they’re making an acceptance speech, as Kanye West did to Taylor Swift at the VMAs. First of all— dude, it’s the VMAs. It’s not really a major awards show. No one cares. Second of all, if Beyonce could be a gracious loser, why couldn’t you be a gracious…I don’t know, a gracious person-who-has-nothing-at-all-to-do-with-the-situation?

The right way to disagree is also not to threaten people while you’re playing tennis. What Serena Williams said to make her lose the match was just trashy, and it makes me sad, because Ms. Williams has always seemed like a pretty cool chick to me. Everyone makes mistakes, I guess, but man, lighten up.

In short, I think America needs to be reminded as a whole that being cruel, uncouth, out-of-control, and just plain boorish is not in any way cool, impressive, or convincing. Because, y’know, it’s not just celebrities who are doing these sorts of things— it’s the chick on the subway who elbows me in her hurry to exit the train, or the guy carrying his lunch into The Gap who yells at my husband to walk faster.

I really liked this article in the Times yesterday: it’s about how humble Americans were after V-J Day, and how it seems that the mood in America is the least narcissistic when the country’s achievements are at their peak. Can’t we try and be decent to one another? If we could do it on September 12^th, 2001, we can do it again: be nice to people you don’t know, not because it’ll make you look nice, but because it IS nice. Hold the door open for the next person. Smile and say “thank you” when your food arrives at a restaurant. Let the person behind you in line— you know, the one with the heavy bag or the fussy baby or the terrible head cold— go first.

Let’s not just be civil. Let’s be kind. I think everyone in America would be happier if they tried being nice, don’t you?

Love,

Philosophy

Memory

Anewphilosophy — Wed, 16 Sep 2009 02:09:24 GMT

Yesterday, I found out that someone I knew from high school— that is, UWC— died last week. She died in her sleep, of heart failure.

It always feels strange when someone you know dies— and it's even stranger when they're so young, and when the death was in no way anticipated.

My grandmother told me this summer that it's a terrible thing to be as old as she is, to be 84 and know that most of the people she loved— her husband, her best friends, her parents— are all dead. She said it almost as if she wished she weren't alive anymore. "It's awful, outliving your friends, your family, your generation," she said vehemently. "At some point, there's no one left."

It makes me so sad to think about her family, her good friends, the people who spent every day with her. Isn't that terrible— to assume that you have someone for years and years to come, and then suddenly lose them, suddenly lose those years, forever?

Your mission, should you choose to accept it: tell everyone you love that you love them. Tell them now. You never know when it might be your last chance.

The Creativity Wasteland

Anewphilosophy — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 03:12:23 GMT

I just had to share this with everyone who has ever lived in Youngstown, OH:

Go to this article. Now, scroll down until you see the chart entitled "Medium-Size Cities' Creativity Rankings." Now look at the city that is ranked lowest on creativity and diversity in the ENTIRE UNITED STATES.

That's right— out of all the crappy, medium-sized cities in America, the LEAST CREATIVE is Youngstown, OH. And it's not like it was a close finish, either— we lost this race by a wide margin, guys.

Even Scranton beat us soundly. Now that's pathetic.

Do you see why I had to leave Youngstown? DO YOU SEE?!

The Rest Of My Life

Anewphilosophy — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 03:23:23 GMT

Arghhhhhh. What should I do with my life?

I could become a veterinarian, and help sick animals to get better. Or I could go to med school and become a gynecologist— then I could be an abortion doctor, which is something I've always thought was important. Or I could go to seminary and get a collar like my husband. Or I could start a non-profit organization and help people out. Or...I could keep trying, somewhat unsuccessfully, to be a writer.

Or I could do something else. I just don't know!

How did YOU decide what you wanted to be when you grew up? And what if you were already grown up when you started to try and figure it out?

7 Things I've Discovered About NYC

Anewphilosophy — Sat, 05 Sep 2009 03:16:11 GMT

Reading this article about escaping the New York tourist traps made me wonder: what sorts of things have I learned in my few weeks as a New Yorker? Is there any wisdom I can pass on to future visitors and/or residents?

Well, probably not, but I'll try anyways. Here are a few things I've learned since I moved here:

1. Public transportation exists, but you're still going to walk everywhere.

Don't get me wrong: I love the subway and the bus. I am a champion of people movers, and I hope I never have to drive another car in my life.

That said, though, New York is not Paris, with a Metro station every five feet. If you want to get between two general neighborhoods that are far away from one another (say, Harlem and Chelsea), then the subway is for you; if you want to get between two very specific places (say, 9th & 21st and Broadway & Grand), you're probably going to do a lot of walking, anyways. Public transportation is great here, but it doesn't service every area equally.

If I wanted to take the subway to work, I'd have to walk six blocks to the subway station, wait for the E train, then walk another eight to work. So I just walk the whole distance, because really, the eight minutes I save with the subway aren't worth two bucks.

2. Traffic laws/stoplights/pedestrian crossing signals mean absolutely nothing.

NOTHING. Cars will not slow down for yellow lights; cars will not use turn signals; pedestrians will walk across busy streets without even looking twice. Seriously— if you live in New York, just assume that, sooner or later, you will get hit by a taxi. It will happen. That's why I can't wait for our new insurance to kick in; I don't want to get run over BEFORE I can afford to pay the hospital bill.

3. No one hates tourists.

Seriously. I've spent a lot of time these past few weeks trying to act like I'm not a tourist— hiding my maps behind my purse, looking at printed-out Google Map pages stealthily in phone booths, keeping my voice down when I call Adam for directions. But you know what? I don't think anyone cares. New Yorkers seem to be so used to tourists that they don't mind them so much, and sometimes they even think they're cute. In fact, most of the people I've met in Manhattan are originally from somewhere else, so at one point, most Manhattanites WERE tourists, or at least new in town.

Just don't wear a fanny pack. Ewwwww.

4. Not everyone eats out constantly— some people still cook.

The only people who have ever told me that "no one cooks in New York" are either people who have never lived here or people who have just recently moved here. Everyone else cooks at least occasionally, and do you know why? I'll tell you why: Chinese takeout is delicious once or twice per week, but when you eat it every day, your body kind of starts to fall apart. Even in a small kitchen you can usually manage to fix yourself something marginally edible, and you can do it while watching TV or listening to the radio or talking to people. Like, you know, your family, whom you don't get to see during the day because you're WORKING.

5. At the same time— you can have ANYTHING delivered. ANYTHING.

Apparently, New York was designed to be a city where a person has to walk seventeen blocks to work, but somehow can't be bothered to go to the store for a quart of milk. EVERYTHING is delivered here— not just pizza or takeout, but deli stuff, and groceries, and PAINT, for goodness sakes. PAINT.

And all of this sort of makes me wonder— who has to be the paint delivery person? I mean, delivering delicious food may not pay very well, but at least you get to be around delicious food all the time. Delivering paint? Blahhhh.

6. Rich people and poor people live closer together here than in many places in America.

I live in Chelsea, a trendy neighborhood with lots of expensive apartments. Two blocks down from me— I am not making this up— is a housing project. Teen moms watch from their windows as teen millionaires shop in expensive couture boutiques.

In Ohio, poor people and rich people lived in completely different towns. With the Youngstown model, the rich live in Canfield or Poland, the social-climbing middle class live in Boardman, the contentedly lower-middle-class live in Struthers and Austintown, and the poor live in Campbell.

But here, everyone seems more mixed up together. There are nicer neighborhoods and crappier neighborhoods, but for the most part you can find fancy places and crumbling places in almost any part of Manhattan. And that's kind of positive, in a way, because that way the rich at least have to look at the poor on their way to work in the morning. Even if they're traveling to work in a private car that picked them up from their house in the Hamptons that morning.

7. Everyone has a dog. Every. Single. Person.

I figured that lots of apartments would equal lots of cats. I mean, I tend to think of cats as the natural choice for apartment dwelling: they're clean, they're quiet, they're compact, and they don't tend to drool on things. But no— everyone in Manhattan seems to have a DOG, and many of these dogs are LARGE DOGS.

They're adorable, of course, and I've enjoyed playing with them, but I mean— seriously? How are they able to be home four times a day to walk these dogs? How do the dogs get enough exercise? How do the owners not get completely sick of Dog Smell being all over their teensy weensy apartments?

Okay, fellow New Yorkers: your tips?

Zzzzzzz.....

Anewphilosophy — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 03:01:48 GMT

Why am I so friggin' TIRED all the time?

I've been sick this week, so maybe that's it. My first day of work was today, and I have a forty minute walking commute each way, so maybe that's it. I also walked around during my break, and I didn't eat nearly enough for lunch (too nervous about how my first day was going!), so maybe that's it.

But it's like I've been constantly exhausted since I got to the City, and I can't shake it. I never seem to get enough rest. Sleep is my favorite part of the day now, and that part never seems to be long enough.

I'm too tired to even write a decent PNN post. How pathetic is that?

How do you beat seemingly overwhelming exhaustion?

Jobjobjob!!!

Anewphilosophy — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 00:35:38 GMT

First, I'd like to apologize for not making it to the Girls' Night Out and for not posting yesterday. A couple of days ago, I came down with a horrible cough/cold/case of the swine flu, and thus have been spending my nights hacking up a lung and gasping for air. (Thanks, asthma!) So last night I finally caved and took some cough syrup after dinner— and twenty minutes later, I was passed out on the couch. That's why I missed posting and talking last night!

But today, I come with glad tidings.

I got a JOB!!!

This afternoon, I went down to the OfficeTeam branch here in New York City to fill out some state tax forms. OfficeTeam was the temp agency I worked for in Ohio, so I knew I liked them, and I figured they might be able to get me some odd jobs until I found a permanent position. Eric, the branch manager there, told me he'd probably be calling me by next Wednesday with my first assignment.

So I get home, and then around 5 pm I get a call, and the number looks like the temp agency's number. So I answer, and it's Eric.

"Hi, Philosophy," he says. "It's not Wednesday."

"No," I answered nervously. "No, it's not."

"Are you in any way interested in a temp-to-perm job?"

Of course I was, and so tomorrow at nine, I begin my new job as an administrative assistant at a mid-town architectural firm. While I'm a temp I'll make $10/hour, but if/when they put me on salary (if they like me, that is), I'll make a salary "in the mid-30s," as Eric put it.

So Adam and I went out for Mexican food to celebrate, and now we're going to go to compline full of excitement and relief!

It's not, like, my ultimate dream job, but it's a good job, and it'll help me support us, and I won't have to work in food service or take a night shift.

So— huzzah for employment!!!

Photos From The New Place

Anewphilosophy — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 20:07:09 GMT

Here's are some pictures of a couple of our rooms!

The bathroom:

The kitchen:

The living room and bedroom are not yet ready for their close-ups, but should be done later on this week.

And here's a random picture of us in Central Park yesterday: