I got a big surprise in the mail the other day: a check for $850. That’s the amount of the loan I made to a friend 15 months ago, plus the Western Union fee to get it to her.

In fact, it’s $6 more than I sent. I guess I should consider that interest, or maybe bus fare and aspirin.

Eight years ago today I headed west. I had no idea what I might do, no idea that I was about to be reborn. In fact, I couldn’t see any kind of future for myself. The only thing I knew for sure was that the life I’d lived up until that moment was no longer bearable.

I left while my then-husband, also a writer, was covering an event several states away. The day before I’d flattened a rear tire in my Chevy Cavalier to keep him from driving it instead of his own vehicle. (Mine got better mileage.) After getting the tire repaired, I packed what would fit into the little sedan, put Liz Phair’s “The Divorce Song” on the CD player and peeled out.

In less than three days I drove from Chicago to Seattle, a trip made notable by the fact that I somehow managed to get a speeding ticket in Montana.

John Robbins was born into wealth and, as an heir of the Baskin-Robbins fortune, could have stayed there. He walked away, though, and focused on a planet-friendly and sustainable lifestyle.

The money he did have was lost to Bernie Madoff’s antics. But Robbins, already an author, focused his writer’s eye on a potential silver lining: “Curtailed consumerism could lead us to reassess our lives and values.”

The result was “The New Good Life: Living Better Than Ever in an Age of Less,” which I’m giving away this week.

My biweekly personal finance column at MSN Money has morphed into a daily frugality blog. Since life never happens quite as you wish, the new gig was poised to launch right when I got sick last week.

My mental picture is of the Fates passing a joint and cackling with laughter as they watched me struggle with computer connection woes six or seven hours after what was later determined to be a gall bladder attack.

Eventually everything was resolved and Tuesday was the debut for Frugal Cool. Despite the semi-preachiness of the inaugural headline (“Frugality: The right life choice”), this is not an eat-your-vegetables kind of site.

Cupid wears a diaper, with no place to put a wallet – but if you’re looking for love there better be pockets on your garments. Deep ones: U.S. residents spent $928 million last year just on dating services.

Love is not only grand, but fiscally prudent. Cohabitation and marriage generally mean two incomes but only one rent/mortgage, fewer nights out on the town, less emphasis on recreational shopping and more focus on shared financial goals.

“There is a real benefit – I call it a financial inoculation against poverty – in being coupled up. You’re better able to withstand tough times,” says Carmen Wong Ulrich, author of “The Real Cost of Living: Making the Best Choices for You, Your Life and Your Money.”

Oh, but the cost of getting to couplehood. Prices for makeup, “manscaping,” marriage vows and mortgages really add up.