I've Been Downhearted

I've been in a funk lately.  It's expected, since it's December, and I always get down at this time of the year.  It's mostly seasonal, with a little anxiety and grief thrown in for good measure. There's so much pressure to be "merry", and I just can't keep up with it.  I'm an introvert who needs to recharge her social battery much more often these days.  There's also an unspoken feeling that I am suddenly supposed to become this housewife extraordinaire, who can whip up forty dozen cookies while simultaneously filling out Christmas cards.  The people around me seem to have purchased and wrapped all their presents. They've planned their holidays out well in advance. 

We haven't even put up the tree. 

And of course I'm worried about money.  Cancer doesn't just eat up parts of your life and leave.  It also hits you in the bank account.  I have good health insurance, but there are still co-pays and deductibles and I don't even know what else yet, because I'm still getting bills in the mail.  I even got a bill from the robot assistant that did my hysterectomy. And I've still got at least two more surgeries coming up in 2016.  I'm not a person who normally worries about money, so this is a new experience.  All the "what ifs" pile on top of me, and it gets difficult to breathe.

So I've been down, and of course I've wanted to write about being down.  When I've sat down in front of the screen to type, however, no words were there.  I finally gave up and decided to let everything stew for a bit, which is why I haven't been around lately.  I just needed a break to reboot.

And then some of my friends started a Go Fund Me page, which made me cry, because I'm not used to people doing nice things for me.  Everyone has been so wonderful during this whole ordeal, sending me encouragement, hugs, and even chocolate.  Living in the moment sometimes means pulling yourself out of the darkness.  Sometimes I get so focused on being sad that I miss some good things, but my friends gave me a boost this time.  I know I'll be my usual happy self very soon. 

And I am grateful. 

Money

Write on Edge Prompt:  Money. We count it and trade it for the things we need, the things we want, and sometimes even the things we can’t really afford.
This week you have 450 words; the first and last lines will be provided, but the middle is up to you!
Beginning line: “Not everyone can be bought,” she said.
Ending line: He let the money fall onto the table and walked out.



“Not everyone can be bought,” she said, as she rolled a black stocking past her knee and secured it mid-thigh to her garter.  Rufus watched from the bed, his eyes admiring the curve of her hip as she leaned over to pick up her dress.   After pulling it over her head, she approached him again, turning her back and pointing to the zipper.  He obliged, his fingers slowly running along her spine with the zipper, until they reached the top.  Cat turned and grabbed his hand, kissing his fingers before stepping away to sit at her vanity.  She grabbed a lip pencil and began reapplying what Rufus had kissed away moments ago. He sat up, grabbed his clothes, and began dressing. She didn't get it, did not understand the implications of her choice.

She'd sold her "vintage" soul before today; fourteen different owners.  He had the provenance to prove it. That was a crime.  It was also a violation of the original contract, however, and as the original purchaser, he was ready to collect.   His demon horde was waiting just outside the door, for his command.  They were ready to rip, tear, rend.

He hadn't counted on wanting her for his own personal amusement, and had given in to his desire to bed her. He would be punished, but she belonged to him now.  She would find that he was not as easily manipulated as Lucifer, the last angel to think he had purchased her soul.  Still, the last hour had been pleasant.

"Nonsense, Cat," he responded.  "It may not be money that they want as payment, but everyone has a price. We've just established yours." 

He let the money fall onto the table and walked out.

Now I See The Problem

My husband got a refund check in the mail yesterday.  It happens. I am the person who pays the bills in the house, and occasionally my brain transposes numbers.   I never claimed to be a math wizard.

Businesses are very anal about knowing how much money they have. They have entire squadrons of accountants who do nothing but make sure that all accounts balance to the hundredth penny.  When someone overpays, a check must be printed on very special paper, with very special printer ink, and mailed to the person receiving the refund.

Very special check paper costs money.

Very special printer ink costs money. Probably way more money than the very special paper, even with a bulk discount.

Mailing envelopes, to mail the check, cost money.

Stamps, to mail the check, cost money.

All that effort on the part of a business, just to balance their accounts.  My estimate as to the total cost to send us our refund is about a dollar. It might be more. Have I mentioned that I am not a math wiz?

Know how much our refund check was for?  Fourteen cents. 

Does that sound kind of silly? It does to me. Surely there was a more cost effective way to do this?

When companies come running to the federal government, hat in hand, and whine about not being able to stay solvent in these horrible economic times, I want everyone to think about this.  If a private corporation, the pinnacle of capitalism, can't manage their costs better than spending a dollar on a fourteen cent refund, why do we expect the federal government to do so?

The A-List: Why I Go To The Movies

I used to watch a lot of movies.  We would hit the theater near our house at least once a week when we lived in Germany, and when Beta-Max hit, my entire family was spending their weekends in front of the television, watching movies.  As I've grown older, however, my theater going days have been significantly reduced by the dollar signs.  At ten or eleven bucks a ticket and throwing in eight dollar popcorn and and four dollar drinks, it isn't worth the cost.  Even if we don't get the popcorn or drink, if the movie sucks, I feel like I've been cheated. 

Source: en.wikipedia.org via Tina on Pinterest

We cheerfully paid the money, however, to see The Avengers this weekend. We did not have to stand in line for tickets(thank you, Fandango!). We did have to arrive at the theater earlier than normal, keep a restless 4 year old busy during that time, and wait forEVER in line for popcorn and a small drink.  While I was standing in line and reconsidering my footwear, I thought about why I was there on a beautiful Saturday morning.  I was there with my family, paying to see a movie about comic book superheroes.  Wow. That thought, of course, led me to consider what sorts of movies I am willing to pay to see in a theater these days. 

1. Pure escapist fare.   I don't go to the movies to see Oscar-worthy films anymore, unless there's something else about the film that catches my attention, such as The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.  Nor do I enjoy sitting in a theater bawling my head off watching chick flicks.  I prefer to view those movies at home, sometimes with a giant box of tissues.  Maybe I am an oddball, but when I plop down the exorbitant prices they charge at the theater these days, I want fun. I want to escape reality for a small window of time.  I want stuff exploding.  I want car chases, the more ridiculous the better.  I want my hero/heroine decisive and clever.  And I want to look at the pretty actors who work out forty times a day to have the rock hard abs and nice biceps and a butt that you can bounce a quarter off of.  None of those things have anything to do with real life.

2. Bring me the funny.  When Old Yeller died, I cried.  When ET died, I cried.  When Spock died, I cried.  I hate crying in public; my face gets all blotchy, and there are never enough tissues.   And why would I pay money to cry and be depressed?  Real life does that to me on occasion for free.  I want to giggle.  I want to guffaw.  I want to belly-laugh so hard that I am crying, because those types of tears are wonderful.  Laughter is cathartic and it is healthy, and I don't have nearly enough of it in my life, so I will pay to see a movie that will make me laugh.

3. Samuel L. Jackson.  I will pay to see just about any movie that has Samuel L. Jackson appearing in it.  I will also pay to see Daniel Craig, Robert Downey, Jr., Tim Roth, and Christian Bale.  These people have credibility with me, because what I have seen of their work has been consistently good.  I don't limit myself to actors.  If Joss Whedon is involved in a movie, I am there, as I am with Quentin Tarantino, Robert Rodriguez, Guillermo Del Toro.   Sometimes I am disappointed, of course (*cough* Snakes on a Plane).  Mostly, I am just transfixed.

4. Good stories.  I read books for the stories they tell me.  I watch television shows for the very same reason.  Movies are no different.  I don't have to be told a great story, but I want to be told a good story.  If a movie tells me a good story, I can ignore bad acting and poor CGI.  A good story makes even a poor director look decent, which is why so many movies panned by critics become cult classics. 

5. Connections.  If I read a good book, I talk about it.  If I see a good movie, I talk about it.  Movies give us a cultural point of reference, a form of language that isn't necessarily verbal.   If I am on the streets in a foreign country, and I say "Hulk smash", at least one person in the crowd will lift his eyebrows and nod to show that he gets it.  There are very few places out there where people don't know what "Yippy-kai-ay, Mother-F*****" is from.  Even if we are complete strangers and have no other way to communicate, the movies give us a common language to use to communicate with others. That is pretty awesome. 

That's my list.  What do you think?  What gets you to pay to see a movie in the theater these days?