Donna Freedman

Two ways to get free credit monitoring.

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thTarget is offering a great big mea culpa as a result of its recent data breach: a year’s worth of free credit monitoring through Experian. This is for anyone who shopped at Target stores in the United States between Nov. 27 and Dec. 15.

Personal finance expert Liz Weston offers some best-practices tips plus a legitimate URL where you can sign up for the service. According to the Target website, consumers need to be wary of e-mails and phone calls by scammers pretending to represent the company but who “are really trying to get personal information from you.”

Experian may try to get something from you, too, according to Weston: “It will try to sell you upgrades, such as a peek at ‘your credit score’ – actually a PLUS score that isn’t used by lenders.” But you don’t have to give a credit card number or pay for anything, because Target is picking up the tab.

You do, however, have to provide your Social Security number and some other info, so that Experian can make sure it’s protecting the right person.

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Giveaway: The cold and flu package.

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th-1I’ve heard a bunch of hacking and coughing lately, and I bet Alaska isn’t the only state thus afflicted. With so much time spent indoors, you’re likely to run into some kind of rhinovirus or other virulent cootie just lookin’ for a home.

Once it hits, having to pay $7 for a bottle of cough syrup adds fiscal insult to physical injury. I think that’s why these cold-and-flu giveaways are so popular: Nobody wants to shell out $20 or more for analgesics and expectorants.

This time around the package features:

Advil Congestion Relief. It’s a non-drowsy version, in case you really can’t take time off from work, and it’s a one-pill dose so you don’t have to remember to take it throughout the day.

Tissues. With all the suffering in the world it’s a little embarrassing to complain  about a chapped honker. But after a couple of days of nonstop blowing our noses really do get sore. That’s why I’m including a box of Kleenex Lotion Aloe & E Tissues.

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Vegan condoms. Who knew?

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thMy new once-a-month gig at The Real Deal has begun and it’s going to be a keeper. How do I know? Because the editor left in my reference to “ethical, vegan and fair-trade condoms.”

Apparently some condom manufacturers use “animal byproducts” in the manufacture of their love sacks. Fortunately for vegans, cruelty-free alternatives do exist – and you can even get coupons for them. 

The Real Deal is a blog published by Retail Me Not, the online coupon code behemoth (and finder of vegan condom coupons). I got hired to write a “best things to buy this month” feature, and since the editor is also a former print newshound I’m expected to do old print newshound things. You know, like research. And interviews. In return the editor will also do old print newshound things, like fact-checking and editing.

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Some linky bling for your Valentine.

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Victoria's Secret braceletNow that things are more or less back to normal, it’s time to resume the weekly giveaways. This week’s prize would make a good Valentine’s Day gift, provided the winner answers on time – and provided that the winner’s sweetie likes jewelry.

It’s a bracelet from Victoria’s Secret, made of “rose gold” links with a sparkly angel-wing catch. Well, most people think it’s an angel-wing catch. My 7-year-old nephew spent the day with me yesterday and opined that the catch “looks like a mustache.”

A rhinestone mustache, mind you. (Admit it: The song “Rhinestone Cowboy” will now be stuck in your head all day.)

The giveaway is sponsored by my daughter’s website, I Pick Up Pennies. Hope you’ll give her a visit and browse around a bit.

For a shot at linky bling, enter by:

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Starting the conversations.

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thThe demon malware has been vanquished at last. How odd it felt to be unable to write or check comments for a week. And, yeah, to look at pageviews. (Number monkey, right here.)

I missed you guys, and appreciate the Facebook comments saying you missed coming to the site. While the break certainly didn’t hurt me, given the sorrow and disruption surrounding recent events, it made me feel disconnected.

Even though I don’t post daily I’ve come to rely on the chance to put my thoughts out into the blogosphere – and to listen to feedback from readers.

For me the point of having a personal blog isn’t to make money. It’s to start conversations.

 

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I’m through explaining.

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thRecently I followed a link at Grumpy Rumblings of the (Formerly) Untenured to a website called Thought Catalog. The article in question is called “18 things women shouldn’t have to justify.”

Things like “putting themselves first,” “how little or how much they’re eating” and “not having baby fever.”

I particularly loved the “amount of makeup worn on any given day.” The writer, Brianna Wiest, says we can go au naturale or “work it like you’re in a drag show…Your face. Your rules.”

I’ve been known to put on a little makeup when I’m having photos taken, but mostly it just seems like more trouble than it’s worth. And again: Nobody tells guys that they ought to wear a concealer or that a good mascara would make their eyes look larger.

Now I’ll see Brianna her 18, and raise her six of my own. Among other things I’m through explaining are:

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In which I am flagged as a potential terrorist.

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thI’m writing this from Sky Harbor in Phoenix, which touts itself as the “friendliest” airport. Certainly this is true of its TSA agents, one of whom got to second base with me without even buying me dinner.

Of course, she was just doing her job. An alarm sounded when I went through security. A quick glance at the monitor showed the word “explosives.”

A couple of agents moved in with a gait that was both casual and swift, if that makes any sense. It was a “hey, everything’s fine” crossed with “holy crap, that woman might be packing.”

Hint: I wasn’t.

But rules are rules, so I had to go through several levels of safety checks.

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The (sorta) poor relation.

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thSeveral times during this visit I’ve tried to pay for things but my daughter wouldn’t hear of it. At one point she noted that she now makes considerably more than I do, thanks to my recent economic downturn. 

She wasn’t snide or condescending, but rather expressing a “so glad I can help you for a change” vibe. When I thanked them today for buying me lunch out Abby’s response was, “Thank you for cooking and cleaning.”

Having my daughter pay for groceries or meals out while I’ve been here feels weird. Sure, it’s a cheap price for a maid and cook, and I know she really can afford it due to her own awesome budgeting and frugal-hacking skills.

Oh, and her salary, which is now larger than mine.

For years I’ve been the one who helped, even when I could barely afford to do so. Now I’m the one who gets helped.

Then again, that was my choice.

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A keener disappointment.

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th-1Those of you who read my daughter’s anguished non-post already know: There won’t be a baby this time, either.

Abby had been cramping and spotting since Dec. 20, and was fairly pessimistic about her chances. After three previous miscarriages, she knew her body better than anyone. The Dec. 31 ultrasound showed that the pregnancy stopped developing between five and six weeks in.

I didn’t really believe that they’d find a heartbeat. But I’d hoped, which means the disappointment is that much keener.

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Still in Phoenix, and staying for a while.

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thIf things had gone according to plan I’d be getting on a plane this evening and returning to Anchorage. But one thing I’ve learned in all my years is that plans are really just God’s laugh track.

Those of you who follow me on Facebook and/or my daughter’s website know that she’s had three miscarriages in a row. In the middle of the night Saturday she started to spot and cramp. She and Tim went to the emergency room and I stayed here: sniffling, setting up the Roomba, doing dishes and then mopping most of the living area. If I wasn’t going to be able to sleep, I figured I might as well do something useful.

The ER doctor said it wasn’t clear whether she was miscarrying again. “Too soon to tell” wasn’t of much use, but it allowed for hope.

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