I’ve been feeling more “Type A” lately then I normally do. I think it has a lot to do with my new job. Just having a certain amount of responsibility and being treated like an actual adult every day has awakened a desire in me to BE an actual adult.
I don’t mean that I’m going to throw out my snow globes and register republican or anything like that. I just want to start being a little more responsible, especially financially. I’ve never been very good at budgeting. The big obstacles standing between me and a balanced checkbook have historically been disorganization, laziness, fear and a deep-seated* belief that a new outfit can solve everything, including poverty. As a result I often have to take out short term loans from the Bank of Mom when rent time comes along. I don’t like doing that. It makes me feel like a brat. My mom is not rich. She should not have to bail me out like that on a regular basis.
So I decided to put an end to it. This past month I forced myself to face my money issues and put a stop to all this silliness. I created a rather strict budget for myself. I would have made it not so strict, but after abruptly quitting my last job and being unemployed for two weeks I was in a pretty dire situation. Well, guess what? I kicked ass! I actually had less money this month than I normally do, but thanks to my diligence I will not be begging my mom for a loan this month. I will be paying my rent on time and I’ll even have money left over for… you know, eating and stuff!
It’s a little embarrassing to admit just how bad I am with money, but I’m telling you all this because I’m really proud of myself. Month 2 of my budget will allow for a little bit of shopping and also introduce a whole new concept: saving money!
That’s Ms. Cameron to you!
* I think this is the first time I’ve written out the phrase “deep-seated”. Originally I had it as “deep-seeded” but I realized that I really didn’t know which it was so I did a little internet research. According to several sources (here, here and here) it is in fact “deep-seated”. “The expression has nothing to do with a feeling being planted deep within one, but instead refers to its being seated firmly within one’s breast…”
Gardetto’s rating
Disagree! Sometime we should eat Gardetto’s together, Andrea. You can have all the other pieces and I’ll have the brown chip things. What ARE those things, anyway?
Today is the first Timbers game of the season! Hurray! Also, it’s Timber Jim’s last game. Boo!
Oh well.
It’s going to be way fun, as usual. Games at 7. We’ll be at the Bullpen for pregame drinks at 5:30! This is an open invitation!
Go Timbers!
“Bowling alleys are supposed to be seedy. The rental shoes are supposed to smell weird. You’re supposed to drink rotgut well drinks and eat Tater Tots that went straight from freezer to deep fat fryer. The owners are supposed to be lumpy, middle-aged men named Lenny with hacking coughs. But at Southeast’s new, swankified Grand Central Bowl, meatheads man velvet ropes, sushi shows up on the menu, bartenders muddle, and the crowd has that same desperately cool leather-jacket-and-$100-jeans look native to the Doug Fir. It’s uglier than Lenny ever could be.”- Willamette Week’s Kvetch-Fest
Seriously. I got cut off at Grand Central a while back for heckling bowlers. Garbage! That place suuuuucks.
About the people there looking “native to the Doug Fir”, I don’t think that’s totally fair. Grand Central has more of a Bridgeport Village crowd.
Petraeus cops a feel!
Thanks, Alex.
Mary Allison and I have been friends since we were 14. We met when we were both involved in the Oregon Lutheran Youth organization. Now she’s a pilot! She’s currently working up in Alaska and recently started Tumbling. It seems like it’s pretty intense up there!
Miss you, Mallis!
I head back out to the bush tomorrow. I’m excited to go back, I miss it. I should be back in Anchorage on the 21st, but I don’t think my cell phone will be working when I get back into Anchorage. Turns out they want money, wierd. My email is above, keep in touch.
Mom, Aunt Ginger: don’t read the rest of this.
We had an incident this last week. I use incident loosely because by FAA definition, this was not an incident. However, I refuse to use the other word because of the connotation. It was a CFIT incident, which I won’t define because I know my mom and Aunt Ginger will read this and it will scare them more than necessary.
Stop reading mom.
This pilot was new, he was from my class, but he had enough hours under his belt to go directly to a PIC spot. He was in his first 2 week rotation-as I just was. In fact, he spent about a week out at the KS apartment with us. Brand spanking new and doesn’t know the area very well, like the rest of us. However, I’m SIC so I never fly solo. I fly with someone who knows this entire area like no one else. They know every bump in the terrain, every little lake, every little bend in the creek that comes out of ‘that’ lake, half way to ‘that’ airport. They’re amazing. This guy didn’t have the advantage of flying 100 hours with these guys to get to know the area like I’m getting to do.
Having this happen right as I’m getting here and prior to getting PIC really puts things into perspective. Really makes me think of what I can do to prevent getting into that position. Know my limits, know when I should turn around, know my terrain. I won’t lie, it scares me a little bit— but it’s a good ‘put me in my place’ kind of scare. This man has lots more experience than I do and he got bit. He made the decision to turn around, however it was a 1/2 of a second too late. It’s amazing to me that he lived through it and with relatively minor injuries. Truly amazing in my mind for a CFIT incident. Those planes go fast and when they unexpectedly hit ground, it has got to be abrupt.
I understand what I’m getting myself into up here, I’m not stupid, I came for the challenge. I won’t begin to analyze and tell you what the pilot did wrong in this situation, it’s not my place. I have my ideas and thoughts about the incident, but I’ll use those to improve my own decisions in the future, not point the finger. We’ve all made that decision to continue on when we weren’t really sure if we should. We all make mistakes, but we learn from them.
