Donna Freedman Even as I tossed out three possible prizes and asked you to vote I realized what the answer would be. Of course most people were going to want the $20 Amazon.com gift card.
After all, not everyone lives near an AMC movie theater and not everyone has a tween-ager in his life to whom to give Jean Chatzky’s “Not Your Parents’ Money Book.”
That’s me who’s sick, not the computer. I’m pretty sure it’s viral: Sore throat, slight cough, aches and malaise but no fever. Blech. This is one of those times when it’s not good to be single. If someone else were here I could ask him to please go get me a box of Popsicles.
I wanted to write something staggeringly clever and original but after a day of research/interviews for my day job, I’m feeling somewhat battered. Also acutely aware that I leave in, um, 13 days and have to turn in a lot more work unless I want to be writing from the Piccadilly Backpackers Hostel. (Hint: I don’t.)
I’m going to bed early. The rest of you can read.
The price of everything at I Pick Up Pennies
My apartment smelled delicious last night after I threw the following into a pot: chicken stock from the freezer, organic chicken stock from a carton, a bunch of spices, a little balsamic vinegar and half a can of tomatoes.
While it simmered, I diced carrots and cooked them along with frozen corn and peas. I added some pasta to the stockpot; after it was tender, I added about a third of a cup of leftover quinoa and the strained vegetables.
And wished it weren’t hours past suppertime. I wanted soup. But I had to wait until the next day, except for the few spoons that I tasted in order to, um, adjust the seasonings.
The blogger at the The Quest for $85,000 is about to become an empty nester. Her son’s set to move out soon, which means all four fledglings will officially be launched.
It will be odd, she muses, to live “on my own terms again without worrying about the impact my choices will make on impressionable lives.”
Quest: You don’t know the half of it. For starters, you’ll be able to walk around in your skivvies without giving your progeny a sight they can’t un-see.
Recently a friend contacted me in a panic. She needed $586 immediately or her vehicle would be repossessed.
When I called, she also noted that she needed something to get her family through until payday. Could I loan her as much as $800?
I hesitated for a moment. Then I stopped what I was doing, moved some money from one account to the other and got myself over to Western Union (which thoughtfully tacked on a $44 wire fee).
Before you call me a sucker, hear me out. Then call me a sucker.
Recently my daughter noticed she was having trouble swallowing. This perplexed her until she realized what day it was: Jan. 21, the anniversary of the day she wound up in the ICU back in 1998.
What put her there was Guillain-Barre syndrome, an auto-immune disease that attacks the peripheral nervous system and, in Abby’s case, paralyzed her right up to her eyeballs and nearly killed her.
I want to go to Cardiff, Wales, while I’m in the United Kingdom. The train fare from London made my head spin: $83.50 to $131 each way.
Who’s for the MegaBus?
While making breakfast I scorched the toast. Automatically I scraped off the Cajun part before smearing on some butter and homemade jam. Then I started to wonder: How many people would have just thrown it in the trash and started over?
I grew up scraping toast. My family would have considered it wasteful to toss charred chow, given how simple it is to fix.
Recently a thread started up on Not MSN Money, a community formed by so-called “refugees” from MSN Money’s now-defunct message boards. The thread, “What do you do with the heels from bread?,” asked readers whether they use them or toss them.
Guess what the answers were.
Recently a reader (and friend) commented on the “2011, in one word” post. Vicky noted that she allows “five minutes a day to mope or feel sorry for myself.”
I like the idea of slotting a five-minute mope in the day minder. Remember Holly Hunter’s short, stupendous bout of hysterics in “Broadcast News”? I aspire to that sort of efficient catharsis.
But I’d also like the option of setting aside the unused minutes, for those times when I need a longer session of self-pity. Thus I suggest a new personal indulgence: Rollover mopes.
Moping, within reason, can be as useful as optimism. Focusing on what’s right with your life is a terrific way to keep problems in perspective. But focusing only on what’s right with your life means ignoring what might be wrong with it.
Neurotic Workaholic is the winner of the six different kinds of Godiva chocolate. Congratulations, and I hope you can power down long enough to enjoy the sweets.
The rest of you take heart: Another Godiva giveaway is in the offing. Not right away, but soon.