Foster Car

The other day I was thinking, ‘wouldn’t it be nice to have a car for the holidays’ and then next thing I knew a friend asked if I would car-sit for him while he was out of town. I got so excited, squealing how this whole ‘ask and ye shall receive’ thing was really true, when another friend asked if I would car-sit for him over the holiday – and they both needed to be driven to the airport at exactly the same time on the same day. ‘Whoa,’ I thought, ‘I’ve got to ease up on the wishing!’

Speaking of wishing, I’ve had a strange string of desires manifesting lately. Not that I’m complaining (she said loud and clear to the universe), it’s just been bizarre. On Monday I was bemoaning the fact that I didn’t have any extra cash for Christmas gifts this year (“This year?” choruses everyone who knows me. “Try every year!”). Even hand-crafting gifts, as some delightful blogger suggested recently, costs a few bucks for materials and, in my case, international shipping fees. And then lo and behold, when I arrived home that afternoon there was a check in the mail for $400. It was so out of the blue I actually looked around my empty apartment as though the mysterious benefactor would be standing in the corner, nodding and waiting for his ‘thank you’. Turns out it was from a class action suit that involved a medication I took years ago.

A few months ago just before a good friend came to visit me, I was in the same predicament: I remember wishing that I had a couple hundred dollars for fun money while she was here. I wasn’t relishing having to say to her, “I’m so glad you’re here! Wanna stay home, eat Top Ramen noodles and watch reruns of Seinfeld with me all week?” The first day she was here, we were walking along, I looked down on the ground, saw what I thought was a couple of folded dollar bills, and picked it up. Turned out it was $150 (we hung around that spot for ten minutes in case the upset owner of the lost money came back, but no one did. Come to think of it, we were in Beverly Hills. Someone probably threw it away deliberately, mistaking the tiny amount of cash for garbage.). And when we returned home I found a birthday check for $75 waiting for me. So there was my $225 for fun money.

So when I wished that I had a car for the holidays, I wasn’t altogether surprised. Excited? Yes. Grateful? Absolutely. But I’m beginning to get used to this whole mental vision board idea. “Oh-ho,” I can hear you saying, “so why don’t you mental vision board the lottery, smarty pants?” Well, here’s the thing I’ve come to understand. I could try to manifest winning the lottery all I want, but since a million dollars is not in my realm of beliefs – in other words, deep in my core I don’t truly believe that I could ever have a million dollars – it’s never gonna happen. What’s the cap on my realm of beliefs? Apparently four hundred bucks. That’s about as high as my internal ‘yeah that could happen to me’ barometer goes.

When my friend picked me up to take him to the airport, he immediately apologized for the overwhelming scent of fish (hey wasn’t that the working title of Scent of a Woman?) that resulted when several trays of catered lunch toppled over in his back seat.

“I’ll wear a noseplug,” I said cheerfully. “I’m just grateful to have wheels for the next week!”

It was a bit chilly with the open windows, and when he turned on the heater, Tweety Bird chirped from the vents. He shrugged. “The vent works fine, but it just makes that bird sound.”

“No matter,” I said happily. “At least it doesn’t sound like a gun going off!”

The car my other friend loaned me while he was out of town was even more colorful. The driver’s side door doesn’t open at all, and the passenger’s side only opens from the outside. I’ll give you a moment to visualize how frustrating that is…. Especially when you have to pee badly.

Now don’t get me wrong, these two cars are still a stay at the Ritz compared to taking the bus, as I’ve been doing these last nine or ten months, but it got me to thinking about my realm of beliefs. Much like the million dollar lotto win that I intrinsically believe will never be my reality, me driving anything but a debtor car is also apparently not within my belief system. Damn.

But it’s Christmas eve and I still believe in Santa Claus (my dad always said as long as I believe in Santa Claus I’ll keep getting a stocking filled with presents from him…). So this year I am going to wish not for a new car, but for a new belief that I deserve to drive a new car.

Gift-Giving Without Debt

With the holidays just around the corner, fond memories of Christmas are stirred up in my head. What I remember most is wrapping presents (often a clunky homemade gift I’d crafted) in front of the fire (and occasionally setting some wrapping paper on fire), watching animated Christmas specials on TV, baking and decorating the tree (I probably need a comma after ‘baking’ or it sounds like I’m baking the tree).

As an adult, when I realize that December 25^th is coming up fast (I always say this, but the truth is, until we learn how to manipulate the time-space continuum, Christmas will come at exactly the same speed as it has every year), I tend to worry – about whether I have the money for gifts as well as about what to get people. But over the years I have found that going back to making gifts is fun and easy, and the delight on the face of the recipient always warms me like a mug of adult eggnog (a.k.a. rumnog). 

(And P.S., if you want to know what to give me this year, how about a ride to a 12-Step Program for people who are addicted to parentheses?)

Here are just a few ideas for going au natural with your gift-giving this year:

Personalized Gift Certificate

On your computer or by hand, create a simple gift certificate or book of coupons for a specific person. For example, you might offer a back or foot rub, a homemade dinner, to do their chores for a period of time, or special (wink, wink) favors.

by Selena Templeton

Gifts You Make With Your Own Special Skills

If you know how to do something really well, use your talent to create something for that special someone. Paint a picture of the recipient (and if it doesn’t work out, call it abstract art), knit a scarf in her favorite color, compose a song about him, write a short story about one of her accomplishments, build a shelf, make a sandwich, hotwire a car, rob a liquor store – whatever. The point is, put those skills to good use! 

Make a Scrapbook

Put together a scrapbook of your loved one’s life so far. Buy a beautiful album and include photos, souvenirs, lockets of hair (taken with permission, of course) and memories of special occasions. Inscribe the scrapbook with a heartfelt letter about why this person is so special to you. 

Movie Trailer

If you have both the equipment and the talent, not to mention the footage, put together a “movie trailer” of your special someone’s life. Include a voice-over, music and fake title. Make it funny, action-packed or sweet. 

Personalized Quilt

This gift idea is especially nice for your children. If you have the material, cut out squares of fabric from your child's clothes (preferably not the clothes they’re still wearing) and make a quilt.

Bake Cookies

Spend an afternoon baking holiday cookies, bars or other sweets and put them in a nice tin or basket. For a special touch, create a label with your “company” name and logo. I once did this and called my company “Bakers Par Nuit” (Bakers By Night, since I was up ‘til all hours redoing it; clearly, this wasn’t my special skill).

Photo Calendars

Choose 12 pictures that are relevant to the recipient and perhaps even match them to each month (like a photo from her previous birthday for her birth month) and create a calendar. You can make it yourself or take the pictures to a stationery store and have them do it for you.

Mixed CD

Make a personalized mixed CD. Choose songs that are meaningful to your relationship; or select funny tracks that you know will put your loved one in a good mood.

It’s easy to subscribe to the belief that gifts must be large, expensive and store-bought in our commercial-driven society, but slowing down a bit and putting just a little thought into your gifts will make this year’s holiday more meaningful and special. After all, what will you remember in five or ten years: the new techno gizmo you received, or the unintentional Picasso-like portrait painted of you and framed?


*originally published in The Garlick Press, a Canadian magazine about natural living

Christmas Without Money

The thing I love best about Christmas is the scent of pine, the ‘Charlie Brown Christmas' music playing non-stop, the hot chocolate with mini marshmallows, the board games (enjoyed at a federally-approved distance from the portable heater), the afternoons spent baking (or in my case, lighting the cookie-scented diffuser), and the ‘Merry Christmas!' gleefully administered by complete strangers who won't give you the time of day during the rest of the year. 

So, apparently I don't belong in this day and age of high-octane materialism. I don't get up at the crack of dawn to stand in four hour line-ups for a sale price. I don't elbow people in the kidney (often, that is) in an effort to grab that last item off the shelf. I don't max out my credit cards to buy gifts I can't afford just to save face. I don't try to guess what someone will spend on me so that I can match them in size, price or luxuriousness. Not only can I simply not afford material pleasures this year, but I don't want to. Gasp! 

No, it's not that I am a Scrooge, it's that I would much prefer to have friends over for dinner, drinks and laughs with nothing exchanged between us except bodily fluids. (Kidding of course. Just seeing if you were paying attention as you read this blog from Nordstrom on your iPhone.) I would prefer to have a hand-written card about how much our friendship has meant to you because by having me in your life you feel comparatively well-adjusted. I would much rather bundle up and walk around the neighborhood with my boyfriend admiring the lit-up houses (especially the one with all the nude statues in front). I would much prefer to trade expertise: for example, you put up my ceiling-to-floor bookshelves, and I stand there and stare. 

I'm not some Pollyanna type who thinks materialism is a one-way ticket to the fiery depths of hell - we all want and need stuff, from the roof over our heads to a second pair of shoes (what? I’m the only woman in the world without a closetful of shoes?) to an iPod so we can drown out the sound of the obnoxious seatmate on the bus. I just don't think stuff should be the only criteria for a good Christmas. 

We are inundated by consumerism all year long with TV commercials, magazine ads, giant blinking billboards, radio campaigns, flyers in the mail, names of sports arenas, and t-shirt slogans. And there's no respite for the weary; come holiday time all this quadruples until you feel guilty - guilty - for not spending your rent money on gifts. And truly, how many presents do you receive that you'll never wear, read, listen to, eat, turn on, squeeze (Thigh Master) or even return (due to aforementioned guilt factor)? 

Someone telling me that my lame jokes got them through a rough period earlier in the year brings tears to my eyes that no jewel, gadget or wad of cash could ever do (um, but, you know, don't stop trying). However, my quaint ideas of Christmas seem silly when it's a one-way street, much like tickling yourself: it works best when there's another person involved. 

So when someone hands me a large, lavishly wrapped gift and I offer to sing ‘Jingle Bells' in a cappella with myself in return, I suddenly feel very cheap. But I'm not cheap, it's just that this year, my heart is bigger than my bank account. 

Date-4-Less

Many people have told me how much they enjoyed reading my stories about dating without money, so I’ve got another delightful example of a date-4-less (a terrible play on Food-4-Less, the name of a discount supermarket) tale – and it cost less than a Starbucks latté.

My boyfriend Larry, who requested that I refer to him as Alf to preserve his anonymity, came over to Chez Selena for dinner. I prepared a light repast that Alf and I enjoyed feeding each other whilst listening to music streaming in on my tinny computer speakers and enjoying a rollercoaster ride of conversation. Cost so far: zero dollars and only a little bit of dignity (when I choked on an olive during the feeding each other part).

After he gave me the Heimlich Maneuver we headed out and walked over to LACMA (Los Angeles County Museum of Art), inhaling an enchanting whiff of the tar pits en route (“Whoa, Selena!” “That wasn’t me, that’s the sulfuric smell of the tar pits!”), to listen to some live jazz (nothing worse than dead jazz). (And yes, I am overly fond of parentheses.)

Throughout the summer – which in Southern California runs through November – the museum hosts a Friday Night Jazz series featuring Los Angeles musicians. It’s free and no tickets required. And for those of you who like the idea of an outdoor concert but don’t get jazz, they offer a full bar.

Larry, I mean Alf, and I got a couple of seats fairly close (i.e. not in the grassy field behind the museum) and listened to the lively music as we watched the sun set behind the band. Even for someone who doesn’t always appreciate jazz (is he playing the piano or having an epileptic fit?), I found the whole setting to be very romantic and artistically enriching. Also, there are plenty of odd-looking sculptures to make out behind.

Speaking of art (the sculptures, not the making out), the concert winds down around 8:00, so you still have time to wander around the museum and check out the collections and exhibitions. That was a lot of fun because there weren’t that many people so we didn’t have to listen to any pretentious conversations about the art.

The museum bookstore was open, too, so we leafed through some books of nude photography which counted as both culture and foreplay. The stroll home was delightful! We held hands and talked about the music we’d heard, the paintings we’d seen, and laughingly reminisced about the 80 year-old man who danced (to jazz, remember) (Hi, I’m Selena and I’m a parenthesesaholic.) the whole time. 

Of all the dates I’ve been on, this is one of the few that stands out as most memorable because it was so different from the usual dinner ‘n’ movie. Not to mention, it was my favorite price: free.

Zippity Do-Car

For a 99 percenter like myself, getting around town can be such a headache-inducing prospect that I often pass on social invites because I’m “too tired”, “have to work”, or “am trapped under something heavy”, when the real reason is: I don’t have transportation. 

I’ve shared a few war stories about taking the bus, driving a debtor’s car or just not going, so my best thinking to date has been, “I’ll just walk.” What other option is there if you can’t afford a car and would rather swallow nails than take the bus?

Zipcar.

My boyfriend recently signed up for the greatest idea since sliced bread – Zipcar, a membership-based car sharing company. It’s like renting a car, only more convenient: you can rent by the hour ($8) or day ($66), gas, insurance and 24-hr roadside assistance are included, your reservation comes with 180 miles per day, and pick-up and drop-off are super easy.

I got so excited!

Here’s how it works. You sign up online with a credit or debit card for a one-time up fee of $25, and then your yearly membership is $50. You receive an access card called a Zipcard with a wireless chip in it that opens the car you reserved only when you’ve reserved it. In other words, when your reservation is over your Zipcard will no longer access the car.

You can reserve online from minutes to a year in advance, for an hour or up to four days, they tell you the exact location of your reserved car (usually a specially reserved zone – like a taxi zone – on the street), you pick it up without the hassle of long waits at the rental office behind someone who can’t decide if they want a Ford or a moronmobile, open it with your Zipcard, and off you go! If you need to fill up with gas, just use the gas card they provide (located in the car).

If, like me, you “don’t want to own a car” (translation: can’t afford one) or are afraid of long-term commitment, a Zipcar membership might be the thing for you. I don’t mean this post to sound like an ad or a review, but I’m just so enthused at having a 99 percenter transportation option that doesn’t make me feel like I’m 12 years old.

Being In Love Doesn't Cost Money

You know that feeling you get when you’re waiting for your date to show up and your heart is pounding and you keep adjusting your clothes to make sure you look perfect and you check the time every five seconds? Well guess what? Being in love doesn’t cost money. (Yet.)

For our third date (don’t worry, I’m not going to turn this blog into a chronology of Selena’s dates – you’ll have to wait for my book to get that kind of excitement – I’m just trying to illustrate how inexpensive it is to impress someone early on), “Larry” and I made plans to meet at a coffee bar in Silver Lake, a neighborhood in Los Angeles described as “an eclectic gathering of hipsters and the creative class”. Interpret (or judge) that description as you will. (By the way, did you know that Silver Lake is famous for its many outdoor staircases to help people get up and down the steep hills and that the Descanso stairs are featured in Laurel and Hardy's film The Music Box ? Neither did I until Larry told me.)

Café Intelligentsia – and I only mention it because as a non-coffee drinker, this is the only coffee I will drink and, key word here, enjoy – is a funky little place and the atmosphere kicked off our date most delightfully. For starters, my latté was served in a white porcelain cup with a heart etched into the foamy milk – was that a sign of good things to come, or what? True, the coffee was more expensive than Starbucks, but as you’ll see, very little cash was doled out the rest of the evening, so put away your calculator, this still counts as a “dating without money” tale.

We headed down the street to Secret Headquarters, a comic bookstore (a shop that sells comics, that is, not a bookstore that tells jokes), for the book signing of a graphic artist. The artist/writer was very nice and Larry had a conversation with her about art and publishing, and then they compared what kind of pens they use to draw. It was like I was on a date with Picasso! Watching him talk to her gave me the chance to observe the way he interacts with people (very important when getting to know potential boy/girlfriends; I had lunch with someone who treated the waiter like a servant and that was the last I saw of him). I also loved listening to him (Larry, not the moron I went to lunch with) talk about his passion, his vision.

As we continued to mosey on down the street, we admired the eclectic shops, admired the graffiti art and murals that seem to be popular in this neighborhood (which is, after all, inhabited by the “creative class”), and ducked into nooks and crannies to admire each other’s lips.

We headed further down the street in search of cheap eats and all of a sudden the sound of beautiful acoustic guitar playing made us both stop and look around. In that moment the earth stood still – all traffic on busy Sunset Blvd. disappeared and it was completely quiet except for the sound of the old man playing guitar on the opposite side of the 4-lane street. We stood there, holding hands, and were mesmerized by the music that seemed to be just for us. As soon as the mysterious guitarist finished the song, the cars and noise and movement returned.

We had a simple repast at Café Tropical and then returned home via bus which, when experienced with the man you are rapidly falling in love with, can be delightfully romantic (as opposed to delightfully traumatic, as I experienced when Mr Pantsless bent over in front of me on the #4 in Santa Monica).

All in all, this date cost less than two movie tickets and was far more memorable than a night at the multiplex.

Money Can't Buy You Love

Unless you go down to Hollywood and Vine after midnight. But I digress.

Plato once said, “A good decision is based on knowledge and not on numbers.” I disagree. (I know, what nerve, huh? Disagreeing with the guy who helped lay the foundations of Western philosophy and science?)

A good financial decision is based on numbers – your numbers, i.e. what you have in the bank. Because if you don’t know how much money you have, you’re likely to overspend and find yourself with a couple of crazy overdraft fees, which may put you in the red (this is for the 99 percenters only; you one percenters can take a coffee break here*) and thus ensure that you bounce a few checks.

Keeping track of your outgoing numbers is another way to get clarity on your financial situation. I got into the habit about a year ago of writing down everything I spent: rent, green tea lattés, library fines for Think and Grow Rich, Top Ramen noodles, half-ply toilet paper, waterproof mascara, therapist, 12-Step groups, flat of chocolate cupcakes…. Then at the end of each I month I total it all up and call the suicide hotline. But only when my expenses exceed my income.

by Larry Vazeos

Someone once said, “I have enough money to last me the rest of my life – unless I buy something.” Okay, I just looked it up. It was the comedian Jackie Mason. It’s a funny quote, but the thing is, I don’t want to live in a joke, I want to live an abundant life. And one simple, daily thing I can do to achieve this is to keep my numbers, as they say. Stay clear on exactly how much comes in each month, and how much goes out. At the very least I can be specific about what I’m crying about on my (state assisted) psychiatrist’s couch.

 

So, no, money can’t buy you love, but if you keep your numbers carefully, you can probably budget in renting it for an hour.

* of course I realize the one percenters aren’t reading this blog (and yes, I realize that most of the 99 percenters aren’t either. Don’t make me cry. I can’t afford the tissues.)