about finances

You may have noticed that I stopped doing monthly financial retrospectives a while ago.

There's a reason for that.

The main reason is that I've had a funny feeling for the past year or so that something big is about to change, and that I should be ready.  A major career shift, a move cross-country, a dramatic life change of some sort.  I don't really know what form it will take just yet, but it's there.

As such, it seemed prudent to re-evaluate priorities a bit.

I'm still paying down debt, but not quite as aggressively.  Debt freedom is still a beautiful goal, and totally something I want to achieve, but having a chunk of actual cash around can be invaluable in times of transition.  Thus I've been working to make that happen, too.  So my debt snowball has been cut approximately in half, with the rest channeling into a savings account.  This slows progress on the whole debt freedom thing, so a retrospective would be less exciting.

As part of this relaxation of the debt payoff mission, last November I stopped tracking my spending.  I still go over my bank statements quite carefully, but I'm no longer writing down every single penny that leaves my hands.  This changed because of the general de-prioritizing of debt issues and because after a good year of tracking and documenting and looking at trend charts I feel that I have a pretty decent handle on my spending.  It was an extremely illuminating process, and it may be a habit that I pick up again in the future, but for right now I think I'm fine without it.

I also started using my paid-off credit card again.  I know, I know, this is antithetical to the rules as I initially laid them down.  But I realized several things.

1. This credit card provides decent reward points that I use to pay down its own balance, resulting effectively in free money.
2. I really am doing okay finacially, and am able to pay off the balance in full every month, thus eliminating interest charges.
3. The experience of depriving myself of credit entirely was a really good exercise, and it got me to pay much closer attention to my spending, but it need not continue forever.
4. Making online purchases wiht a debit card can be less than advisable.  Credit cards have better consumer protection and fewer identity-theft issues.  Not to mention that if it's compromised, nobody gets to drain your checking account.

The combination of these factors means that it's actually kind of a good idea to use credit cards a lot of the time if and only if you can do so responsibly (without paying interest).  Because I'm at that point, I could only benefit from the switch.

So several things have shifted around for me.  However, we're still on track, though the plan will be delayed a bit.  Hopefully this whole life-changing thing will happen soonish, and then I can settle into a new normal.

But until then, I'm going to be focusing on getting ready for the change.

hair and agency

When I was 11 or so, I marched into a local mediocre chair haircutting shop confidently, slightly bewildered mother in tow.  I sat in the chair and told the scissor-wielding employee exactly what I wanted: for her to transform my waist-length, infuriatingly prone-to-tangles 'do into a cute pixie cut.

You see, I was sick (and tired!) of bringing myself to tears every day in the process of brushing my hair.  I have superfine, superstraight hair, and that leads to mega painful tangles.  As I recall, during one such session I declared that I was going to cut it all off, and that felt good.  It tasted like agency.

So I found myself in that chair, explaining my demands to the hair stylist.

She refused.  Point blank.

She said I'd be sad, and that I'd cry if I 'lost' my 'beautiful hair.'  I didn't really have the words for it at the time, but some part of me wanted to point out that it was my hair, I was the one who would have to live with it, and I could bloody well be trusted to make choices about my own damn body, thankyouverymuch.  Please stop lecturing me on my own desires, needs, and preferences, oh person-I-just-met.

In reality, we just went to the place across the street, where they were at least willing to do their job.

The slightly-less-reluctant stylist did, however, keep checking in with my mom to get approval before touching my hair.  My mom, in turn, kept deflecting back to me by pointing out that it was my hair.  And then she hid in a book to avoid the panicked permission-seeking stare.

Yep.  MY hair.

In my freshman year of college, I decided to dye my hair emerald green for a halloween costume.  This wound up necessitating bleaching it first, as my natural color apparently repels dye like you wouldn't believe.  When that faded, I had purple, blue, green, and red stripes.  Then it was blonde with green tips for a while.

Silly antics of a teenager?  Sure.  But it was also an expression of personal agency and, yes, responsibility.  My hair is my own, and I'll do whatever the hell I want to do with it, just to show you that I can.  See?

Over the last three years or so, I'd been growing it out again, and it was quite long.  I really enjoy change, and the long straight thing had gotten boring.  But Husband really liked the long hair, and was saddened by my proclamations of a desire to cut it.

So I squelched the desire for a while (to be super clear, this isn't his fault.  This is my own issue revealing itself, here).  I would rage silently at my tangly, unwieldy, boring hair, and then quickly remind myself that I 'should' keep it, and to stop fantasizing about haircuts.  So I stewed and grouched and hid it all behind a forced smile.  I fixated on the mythical haircut.  Everything would be better with short hair!  I'd be happier, and I'd enjoy life more, and I'd be a better person!  Fester, stew, grumble, pine, mutter...

Boy, did that not work.  Ya know what happens to suppressed anger that's allowed to stew?  It builds up pressure and it explodes.

Eventually I snapped, while detangling it yet again.  I even flung my brush across the bathroom, in what in retrospect looks like a toddler's adorable tantrum.  I yelled, peevishly, that Husband wouldn't 'let' (ha!) me cut my hair!

Poor guy.  Never knew what hit him.

So that very day, I went to another mediocre chain haircutting shop.  But as I was sitting in the car before going in for this fateful cut, a funny thing happened.  I realized that, now that I no longer had a perceived force preventing this event, it wasn't actually all that important to me.  The coveted haircut had lost its power, and I considered not bothering, and just keeping it long for a while longer, because I wanted to.  Not because I was afraid of cutting it, or because I felt social pressure to keep it, or because I want Husband to be attracted to me.  Because it's my hair, and it's MINE, and I could totally do that, too.  I don't hate my hair, even when it's long; I just wanted a change, and to check to make sure I still could effect that change.

I ended up going through with it, lopping off about 14", but that moment was really revealing.  It's not about the hair.  It was never about the hair.  It's about bodily autonomy, it's about choices, and it's about freedom.  If I'm not free to do what I want with my own body, then something has gone fundamentally wrong.

When Emma Watson cut her hair, she loved it.  She also got some significant pushback from Hollywood, the entertainment industry, and random schmucks everywhere.  Because somehow we make a woman's choices about her body into fodder for public commentary and judgement, and seem to think that's okay.

That is not okay.

When Willow Smith cut her hair, her parents had to endure an endless torrent of questioning about why they would LET their daughter do that.  The Smiths totally get the Awesome Parenting Award of the year for their response to the situation:

"The question why I would LET Willow cut her hair. First the LET must be challenged. This is a world where women,girls are constantly reminded that they don't belong to themselves; that their bodies are not their own, nor their power or self determination. I made a promise to endow my little girl with the power to always know that her body, spirit and her mind are HER domain. Willow cut her hair because her beauty, her value, her worth is not measured by the length of her hair. It's also a statement that claims that even little girls have the RIGHT to own themselves and should not be a slave to even their mother's deepest insecurities, hopes and desires. Even little girls should not be a slave to the preconceived ideas of what a culture believes a little girl should be. More to come. Another day."  --Jada Pinkett Smith

"We let Willow cut her hair. When you have a little girl, it's like how can you teach her that you're in control of her body?  If I teach her that I'm in charge of whether or not she can touch her hair, she's going to replace me with some other man when she goes out in the world.  She has got to have command of her body. So when she goes out into the world, she's going out with a command that is hers."  --Will Smith

That.

On the first workday after my haircut, the first thing my boss did was ask me 'why would [I] do such a terrible thing.'  Dude, I don't have to justify what I do with MY BODY to you, and that is not your value judgement to make.

My hair is mine.  And I do feel great with the decision, and may cut even more off.  Or maybe not!  Because it's my choice.  Because I can.

look at stuff

"Take a look at the standard way of the world. Everybody goes to school, then they go to college, then they get a job. Does that fit your life or are you just doing it? Take a look at stuff. It’s possible to take this whole life and shape it so that it’s something that fits you as opposed to trying to fit so hard in to it. That’s the root of it. That’s the real reoccurring theme of the record , fucking doing what you want, because it will lead to happiness."
--Stef Alexander (via Gala)

Living an unexamined life is giving away your power.  It's given away to habit and cultural expectations and 'common knowledge' and autopiloted scripts into which we're supposed to pack ourselves.  The only way to fight against this is to take a good hard look at who you are, where you are, and what you want.  To 'look at stuff.'  To figure this shit out.

I, for one, want out of the cycle.

thinking, and new directions

I've been thinking a lot lately.  This will likely get fairly rambly.

About the world, about my life, and about this little corner of the internet that I have staked out for myself.

There are many directions I could go with this space, and I've come to the definite conclusion that I am completely unsure of where this blog is going (see what I did there?).  It started off as a simple platform to get me writing, and to provide some measure of accountability for personal goals and projects.

Heh.  Yeah, about those resolutions and goals.  The ones I'm constantly thinking up and then abandoning.  It's not too encouraging.  And about that blogging schedule I haven't kept to, largely out of not feeling like I have anything pertinent to say.

However, maybe that's not the point.  Maybe the point is that I have this space, and I can say whatever the heck I want to say within it.  Even if it doesn't fit into my preconceived notion of what my topic is or should be.  So I'm going to go on an adventure.  I'm going to write about whatever is on my mind, whether it seems relevant or not.

Wow, when I write it out like that, it seems much less momentous than it did in my head.  I'm going to blog OFF TOPIC.  So brave.  But hey, small steps, right?

So,  first topic.  Feminism.

Yep, I said it.  Dropped the f-word.

You see, I'm a feminist.  I always have been, but it was in the lazy, non-introspective, inactive way.   Perhaps it's because I was so involved in my studies, but I never really bothered to poke my nose out into the world and see what was going on.  I didn't actively deconstruct problematic cultural messages, and I had never heard the words 'kyriarchy' or 'intersectionality.'  I pinned buttons with cheeky feminist phrases on my purse, but I didn't know, in a real way, that feminism had progressed past the free love movement of the sixties.

In other words, I was a complete dunce on the subject.

But in the last year or so, largely in response to unidentified feelings of ennui and quiet rage, I've really started immersing myself in the literature and connecting with some of the truly amazing folks writing about this stuff out on the big bad internet.  People like Melissa McEwan, Ana Mardoll, David Futrelle, and Libby Anne, to name just a few.

I've come across so many different perspectives, many of which make me breathe a huge sigh of relief. Finding safe spaces was a revelation.  I hadn't known that such thoughtful people were out there doing the work of identifying subtle double standards, of explaining tricky problems, of inspecting and dismantling rape culture.  People who expect more.  I got a huge awakening to what was going on in the world, and a call to examine some of the shitty messages I've internalized over the years.  Boy, can that stuff be unpleasant to unpack and really look at, especially when it comes to addressing one's unexamined privilege.  But it's also profoundly important, and I'm willing to put up with a little discomfort in order to become a better person.

I guess you could say I'm a baby feminist.  I've got a whole heck of a lot to learn and grok and incorporate into my goal of becoming a more thoughtful human being.

So let's just say that I was deeply and pleasantly surprised by what I found out there when I finally got around to looking, and immersing myself in the feminist blogosphere has rapidly become my main free-time preoccupation.  It's increasingly becoming a critical part of who I am.  This is something that I'm passionate about, and something I need to write about.  So perhaps this space will take on a whole new direction, or maybe it will just become a more representative sample of my thoughts.  There are no internet police to say I can't have privilege-deconstructing posts alongside sock-folding posts, after all.  They coexist in my head, so why not here?

My space, my rules.  Would you like to come along for the ride?

thoughts on resolutions

Metapost side note: I've been away for a while for a number of reasons.  Here's a rambly set of ruminations on the most recent holiday.

-----

I've never really done the new year's resolution thing.  Oh, I probably parroted a few lines occasionally out of a general feeling of social obligation, but it never really meant anything to me and I never really followed through on any resolutions I might have made.

Last year I started blogging, and made a few monthly resolutions, thinking they'd be more tractable than year-long projects.  I think I got as far as March.

On the one hand, the new year is undeniably a time of renewal, and the desire for a fresh start deserves to be honored.  Deciding to make a change in one's life is a big deal.  It usually involves seriously nontrivial amounts of work (or else why bother with the fanfare), potentially represents a significant improvement in some facet of life, and can be really hard to follow through with.  Not to mention that figuring out what change to implement in the first place can be a hell of a project unto itself.

But compressing this process in a one-line throwaway gesture that no one really expects to happen can be not only useless, but genuinely counterproductive.  Taking a really important personal mission and summing it up into a sound byte might be useful in clarifying the goal itself, but it also might trivialize a very real and relevant quest into a silly exercise in pointlessness and frustration.

So I'm not sure how I feel about all this.  Leo says that having no goals is awesome.  Scott says that defined goals are key to accomplishing really cool stuff, and he's a guy who knows all about accomplishing really cool stuff.  I suspect that the ultimate answer is intensely personal and individual.

I'm in the middle of what feels like a rather important period of change, even if it does seem to drift aimlessly sometimes.  For now, I think I'll spend January without any lofty goals or aspirations, and see where it takes me.

small space fetish

I have an odd fixation on the notion of living in a small space in a city.  I romanticize the notion of being close to everything, having real public transit options, and being forced to seriously edit my mountains of crap.  To have everything I own be something I absolutely love.  To be absolutely ruthless about what is in my home.  To spend less time cleaning and organizing, and more time living.  To abolish clutter.

Granted, in reality city living is cramped, dirty, loud, and has all sorts of downsides.  My fantasy doesn't necessarily take those into account, hence the romanticization.  But fundamentally, I find myself desperate for change of some sort.  I want... different.  

Part of why I'm so obsessed with decluttering is that it feels like a step toward that goal.  The less stuff that has to be lugged around, the more freedom we'll have to jump when the next life change opportunity comes to call, whatever form it might take.  

All my life, whatever household I've been a part of has required a fairly sizeable house.  Not necessarily for the people, but for the stuff.  For some reason, saying 'this one won't work; it isn't big enough to hold all our stuff' seems perfectly reasonable in this country.  When did we start adjusting the houses to fit the accumulated junk, instead of simply living in a reasonable amount of space?

Though the average American family size has decreased about 30% since 1950 (from 3.8 to 2.6), average house size has increased more than 2.5-fold!  This is ridiculous!  That average 1950's family was living in under 1,000 square feet of space, but we still seem to be always upsizing and expanding.

Always needing more, more more... how about opting out and downsizing instead?  Living with less doesn't signify failure, and renting isn't a sign of having given up.  These things only indicates breaking free of the outdated American Dream.  What worked in the fifties due to some rather unique circumstances (the GI bill, a time of major economic prosperity, plenty of jobs, etc.) is a silly standard to still hold ourselves to.  In the current economic climate, maybe owning a house with a white picket fence no longer makes sense!  Make your own future.  Figure out what works for you.  The real you, not your fantasy self that throws perfect dinner parties and has 2.5 children.  Or maybe the fantasy self tours around the country playing the washboard in a zydeco band, but you're happier staying in one place, hopefully in a smaller (and cheaper) house than you can afford.  The point is to move beyond mindless plodding toward an outdated goal that may or may not be applicable to your unique circumstances.  

For me, I want out of the upsizing cycle.  I want the freedom that comes from focusing more on people and experiences rather than stuff.  To have more time, energy, and money not spent on maintaining/acquiring/storing stuff.  To prioritize the aspects of life that are actually important.  

Maybe this is a silly romantic notion, and maybe I'll never make it to my fantasy city.  Maybe I'll always live in three-bedroom houses.  But in the meantime, I'll keep 

But hey, a girl's got to dream, right?

be the change

"Be the change you wish to see in the world."  ---maybe Ghandi, but definitely a nice-sounding bumper sticker

I have issues with embarrassment.

I'll often be furtive about or even completely hide some things I do from view, because of fear of embarrassment.  And no, I didn't mean that.  Get your mind out of the gutter.

I'm talking about little things.

• I time my afternoon walks such that I can slip out and back while people are at lunch.  There's no work-related problem with my taking these breaks; I just for some reason choose to be subtle about it and avoid the topic with coworkers.  
• When shopping, I pick up travel-sized foods like easy-open cans of beans and packets of nuts that are on sale, and then make little packets to give out to the homeless I drive by in my city.  I can't simply ignore them, but I hate the impersonality of just handing over a few dollars.  I like being able to provide something a trifle more thoughtful, something that might offer a little decent nutrition in a lifestyle that probably doesn't afford much by way of real food.  Besides, I buy the stuff on sale when I'm at the store anyway, so it's a dirt cheap little hobby.  But I hide the packets under the passenger seat, and won't stop to hand one out if anyone else is in the car.  
• When out walking by myself I automatically pick up any litter I run across, but if I'm walking with company I'll usually walk right by it, pretending not to notice. 

There's no sensible reason to feel ashamed of these actions.  I'm not claiming they make me an awesome person, but they're certainly not shame-worthy.  So why do I go to such ridiculous lengths to hide them?  Because I'm afraid of a discussion about why I do them?  Because someone might think I'm weird?  Because I just lack strength of character?

Recently, I found myself hoofing it through a city with several family members when vacationing.  There was trash everywhere.  I walked past the first few pieces, while lecturing myself to get over the embarrassment and just pick it up.  I argued to myself that it would be weird, it would slow us down, it was silly.  Finally I bit the bullet, swooped down, and snagged a styrofoam cup as I walked past.  I carefully didn't look at anyone and put on my best impression of nonchalance.

Then the most amazing thing happened.  Suddenly, everyone was stopping to pick up bits of trash!  We had handfuls of it by the time we got to a bin, and my husband even pointed out a few on my side that I was in danger of missing.

Rather than earning criticism, my insignificant little act of bravery spurred more action in turn.  And that one stretch of sidewalk was made that much more pleasant.

This is a silly little example, and just illustrates how strangely my mind works.  But imagine what could happen if we all did exactly what we felt was right, without the fear of judgement.  Where might it lead?  Who knows, but it would probably make the world a little bit better.  Every bit certainly helps.

For me, I'm going to work on banishing my fear of embarrassment and behaving the same way whether I'm watched or not.  It won't be easy, but I think it will be worth it.

The challenge: do something you're afraid of.  Even if it's silly.  See what happens.  

pantry challenge, week 1: reframing

On the first of this month I issued a challenge to my household: we would refrain from buying anything that resides in a package, to clear out pantry clutter.  On the very next day, I found myself at the farmer's market and looking at my beaming husband, who was proudly showing me the local artisan dry pasta he'd just bought.

Well, damn.  

But instead of admitting defeat, I shall simply change the rules.  My blog, my rules.  New rule: 

• Anything purchased at the farmer's market or CSA is fair game.  Even if it's in a box. 

There.  I feel better now.  

On another note, remember how I wanted to avoid supermarkets this month?  Yup, that one fell by the wayside, too. I have a pesky orange juice addiction, so I found myself scampering into the local megamart while out running errands.  But I only bought juice, so it's not too bad.  And it's at least a pseudo-fresh food, so it's close enough to fitting in the approved list for this challenge.  Oh, what I wouldn't give to live in a place where citrus could grow again, and to be able to procure actually fresh OJ.  But such is very much not the case out here in the desert.  

It's time to adjust expectations.  But then, that's kind of the point; this is an experiment.  Sure, there are rules, but I made them, and I can change them.  As long as we come out ahead in at least some of the fundamental goals of the challenge, I count it a win.  Other than that, it's an exercise in self-observation, much like my spending tracking project (more on that later).  

This week, we've used up: 

• freezer: lamb chops, 2 lbs. ground lamb, a lonely frozen half banana, an entire jug of homemade stock*, and some random frozen mixed veggies
• pantry: the last of the chocolate chips**

food budget tracker: this week

farmer's market: $62.50

CSA: $52.96

grocery: $7.18

total: $122.64 

* We habitually save the end bits of veggies and meat bones in the freezer and then make stock in the crock pot.  Homemade stock is delicious, and this way it's free too.  Unfortunately we have a pesky tendency to make the stock, fill old orange juice jugs with it, toss them in the chest freezer, and forget about them forever.  There are like three jugs still in there, plus several gallon-sized plastic bags of the stuff to make even more with.  It's kind of ridiculous.  Actually using it is a major win.  

** The Guy went to Costco the other day, and came home with a replacement bag of chocolate chips, claiming that it was because he had planned on making his famous chocolate torte for his coworkers.  This highlighted the fact that we've had insufficient communication about this endeavor, as the point of the challenge is to see how creative we can get at coping with not replacing staples.  Plans will need to be modified if we're out of something.  That's what makes it a challenge!  But the chips are purchased, and the torte will be made.  Learn from it and move on.  This doesn't get a rule adjustment; it's just a learning experience.  

a challenge

Good food is one of life's great pleasures.  Unfortunately, food procurement can get out of control, and completely take over the available storage space.  Our various pantry cabinets are overflowing, and I've no idea what might lurk at the back of the shelves.  Consequently, I might be re-purchasing things we already own!  Food that's not known about and/or impossible to access serves no real purpose.  Money was spent on it, but it doesn't go on to fulfill its nutritious or tasty purpose.  

The chest freezer, likewise, always seems to be full to the brim, and it's generally a challenge to fit anything new in there.  

Last year we tried organizing everything and making inventory lists.  However, we weren't too good about updating the lists when something was used up or purchased, so they quickly became out of date and the system proceeded to assume its previous cluttery low-energy state.  It was a good try, but now it's time for a new plan.  

Besides, organizing isn't the point.  Minimalism is the end of organizing, and if we can have a less excessive quantity of food around, I suspect that we'll be able to find what we're looking for, not re-purchase things we already have, and even have more space to work in in our not-too-huge kitchen.  These are all very good things.  Perhaps it'll even force us to be more creative and come up with some new meal ideas.  

New perspective, new goals, new mission. 

So, for the month of June, we're instituting a pantry challenge.  For one month we will not buy anything that sits on a shelf or goes in the freezer.  

What we are allowed to buy: 

• fresh veggies & fruit
• dairy (milk, eggs, cheese, etc.)
• pet food

That's it.  Other than that, we'll have to scrounge through the packed cabinets and freezer when it's time to determine the contents of a given repast.  This should lead to some significant creativity toward the end of the month!

In terms of shopping locales, I have a strong preference toward buying everything we can at the farmer's market and local organic CSA.  It would be a fabulous bonus if we managed to not set foot in a traditional supermarket for the course of the experiment.  We'll see how that goes, but with it being summer it should be quite feasible.  

My goals for the month: 

• use up the majority of the forgotten food
• temporarily reduce the grocery budget
• create more space in the kitchen
• gain a better awareness of what we have

Some 'before' pictures of the excessive food stockpile: 

the pantry

See the papers taped to the inside of the pantry doors?  Yeah, those are the year-old, grossly-out-of-date inventory lists.  It was a good idea, but the evidence of failed organization missions does have a way of coming back to haunt one.

stuff-that-doesn't-fit-in-the-pantry

This is the cabinet above the stove.  It contains what doesn't fit in the reasonably-sized pantry area.  It's mostly pasta and packaged things.  It's kind of silly that this overflow space is necessary.

indoor freezer

I reorganized the indoor freezer recently, so it's not as packed as it usually is.  However, 'organizing' in this case is code for 'shoved more things into the garage freezer so there's space indoors.'

garage freezer: full to the brim

It takes some mad 3D tetris skills to locate, extract, or replace anything in the garage freezer.  I call looking for things in there 'spelunking,' and generally wear winter gloves for it because I know I'll be removing everything from the darn thing in order to find whatever I'm looking for.

garage freezer: perspective

The freezer is rather tall.  That's a lot of space that's packed very efficiently with... stuff.

Here goes!

complacency

Today I discovered a remarkable project that's going on.  A group of people traveled around the country, interviewing people who had become dissatisfied with the 'American Dream' and embarked on their own path.  They're making it into a documentary, and it's about the tragic complacency that infects those who go through their lives on autopilot and forget to actually live. 

They're looking for funding through kickstarter to edit and produce the thing.  I'll be tossing something into the kitty for such an inspiring project.  I want this documentary to exist, because I believe it's an important issue, and it's more than a little bit personal to boot.  For a $5 donation you get a digital download of it once it's finished, too.  Perks are nice.

The kickstarter page and remarkably inspiring preview are here, this is a beautiful article about the project, and here we find an interview with one of the founders of the initiative.

To be clear, they (and I) are well aware that prerequisites to this complacency are living in a developed nation, having a job, and generally having decent lodging and plenty of food.  Most of the world is not that lucky, and that's a critical issue of any time.  Dealing with world poverty and hunger is incredibly important.  Fundamentally, we're unbelievably fortunate to be in the position of disliking our 9-to-5 wage-slave job and not living up to our potential.

But that's no reason to accept it as inevitable.  

I've struggled with this myself, over the past few years.  When I was in school, my direction was clear.  Take more classes, learn more things, eventually graduate.  Now what?  Now I've got a full-time job in my field with a good salary, a gorgeous (rental) house, a husband, dog, cat, and practically an iconic white picket fence.  I'm paying off debt, and we have an emergency fund.  Eventually we'll probably be able to afford a house.  That's great!  It's the American Dream, right?

...really?  Being chained to one place, ear-deep in a mortgage, and owning stuff is the point of everything?  When did we start buying this story?  Surely there's more to life than consumerism and mowing the lawn on Sundays.  Why are we so willing, as a culture, to sacrifice so very much time, energy, health, relationship quality, sense of purpose, and potential usefulness at the alter of... what?  Money?  Having a bigger house than your neighbor?  2.5 kids and a car payment?

Surely there must be something better. 

I'm battling the exact sense of complacency that's examined in this movie.  I resent it, and I'm fighting it.  Perhaps the ennui hasn't thoroughly set in yet due to my being relatively new to the workforce, or perhaps it's my tendency toward spontaneity and whimsey that's keeping me fighting.  But I can feel the pull, and know that if I stay on my current path I will lose eventually.  But I've felt guilty for whining about it, for the reasons stated above.  Who am I to complain?  There are lots of people in worse situations; those without enough to eat, a roof over their heads, or the ability to find work.

Very true.  But I don't think that justifies a slow death of the soul, just because no one wants to hear about it.

So what's the solution?  To stop whining and to do something about it.  I don't know what that will look like, exactly, but thinking about the possibility of escaping this pre-set script fills me with anticipation and joy.  And anything that does that deserves a second look.