Hi, I'm Rose . . . in real life. I am a professional writer and editor, a mom of four, a wife of one, a dog and cat mom, and I currently live in California (before that, New York). I like long walks on the beach, sunsets -- scratch that. This is real life. Who has the time? I hope you stick around and read on.
I started a new part-time job on Monday. Compared to the last library I worked at, this one will be much, much slower paced. The location is terrific–just thirteen minutes from home on surface streets (or I could take a freeway south one exit)–the pay is decent (as in 1.5 times better per hour than the last place), there are fewer hours to commit to each week and one fewer day to show up, I have all Sundays and most Saturdays off, and the director is quite nice.
So why am I missing and yearning to be at the old place?
It’s the people. I had friends there, people whom I was really close to and people who were casual friends to chat up on occasion. Some people I avoided, but most people I enjoyed being around. I like being busy too, as in busy the entire time I am at work. Sitting behind a desk most of the time in the new job will be quite a change.
I just learned that a position has opened up in the old place. And I’m contemplating applying. I know which hours will be available, and some wouldn’t work with my current schedule, but I’m wondering if some of my buddies would switch shifts to accommodate my return. Then I think, Am I being crazy? Is going back there really such a good idea? Will they even have me? I was a really good worker, but I am a bit opinionated and am one to speak up for myself. Would I be willing to work weekends and nights again? Is being around my work friends really that desirable? Some of the physical work was a bit much for me with my autoimmune disease. Am I ready to go back to the aches and pains?
My freelance work has diminished a lot lately. If I had been this slow last year, I never would have quit. Taking the new job will help to keep me occupied and provide income, but it won’t bring me back to what I was earning. Should I make the move to return to the old place?
For someone who finds it difficult to part with things (and I’ve the overstuffed closets and refrigerator to prove it), I have learned to pare down when traveling. I laugh when I see people taking weekend trips with rolling suitcases that could fit an average-size child in them. With a little planning, anyone can leave the steamer trunk at home and make do with a carry-on.
Having four kids and always having to take road trips because of the cost of flying, I just couldn’t bring an extra suitcase for just my shoes or fourteen changes of clothes for three days on the road. It would be impossible to pack the entire family and all that luggage into a minivan. So I’ve learned to pare down.
Suggestions for traveling light:
When flying, bring only enough for just one carry-on and one personal item. Checking luggage may seem convenient–you don’t have to lift the forty-pound bag into the overhead compartment, for one–but locating the baggage area in the airport and then waiting for the bags to unload onto the carousel after a flight is time consuming when you’re likely exhausted. Skip the luggage merry-go-round and carry your own bag. (A bonus: You’ll never have to file a claim for lost luggage.)
Pack clothes and shoes that are comfortable and versatile. Pick colors and patterns that match and you’ll get more use out of them and spend less time staring into an open suitcase. A single lightweight, waterproof jacket with a hood will be great for most any weather in the summer. Flats, not heels, can be worn both day and night, and T-shirts and blouses can go with shorts and jeans or a nice skirt. One pair of athletic shoes for heavy walks or hikes should be enough along with those flats and maybe a pair of light sandals in the summer. Stick to neutral bottoms, but pack enough underwear to last the entire trip unless you have access to a laundry.
Download books or videos onto a tablet or phone and eliminate lugging stacks of books. Books and magazines are staples for me when traveling. There have been times that our one-week summer vacation was the only time in the year when I could get a good book read. I would bring four or five magazines and at least two books. I still like the feel of an actual book and will pack at least one, but I also download books onto my Nook or Kindle and read them that way. Most libraries circulate ebooks (and electronic audio books) in addition to hardcovers and paperbacks too, so you don’t even have to purchase from Barnes & Noble or Amazon if money’s an issue or if you’re not sure you’ll like the book after purchasing.
Take pictures with your cell phone. I bought a digital SLR camera a few years back after having wanted one my entire life, so I will pack that camera on special trips. Weekends away or places I’ve been before, however, I make due with the camera on my cell phone, which makes sharing and downloading the pictures easier during and after the trip, too.
Look up maps ahead of time and have them sent to your phone. Even before I have every stop planned out, I know generally the places and towns I want to see. Before a trip, I’ll go on Google Maps and plug in cities. There I can see the distance, the roads to travel, and the time it takes to make the journey. The itinerary can be sent to my phone or email address for when I’m on the road.
Bring flat shampoos, conditioners, and lotions or silicone containers. Instead of using bottles, I save up the flat individual cellophane packs of shampoo and conditioner samples that sometimes come attached to full-size bottles. I also pack baby wipes or Wet Ones instead of liquid hand sanitizer. There are new silicone pouches, which are flexible and guaranteed not to leak, that a lot of people swear by. These items take up much less space than those in individual, rigid bottles and are lightweight too.
Keep like items together. Don’t be that guy, the one who unzips his luggage and everything goes flying every which way. Keep all your underwear, T-shirts, and pants together in individual compartments (like mesh bags for socks) and they’ll stay neater and save time when unpacking. I’ve read rave reviews for the new packing cubes that look like small versions of luggage. They are used to keep similar items in one section of the suitcase. Plastic bags with zip closures can also work and cost less. They’re great for keeping small kids’ complete outfits together, too.
Leave a little space for souvenirs, including new clothing. It’s nice to pack light and then purchase items on your destination to serve as souvenirs and to wear on the trip. You’ll be happier having a little more room for these items than having to check an extra bag at the airport before heading home.
Rent sports equipment, like snorkels and fins and tennis rackets, or buy cheap versions you don’t mind checking (or chucking).
It’s tempting to bring extra clothes for every occasion conceivable on a trip, but most of us can get along with less. After all, our adventures–and not the straps from our overstuffed bags–should leave an imprint on us.
We’re taking a trip to the East Coast next month. I’ve already booked our flights and lodging, but now I’m going back and making doubly sure I want to stay in the places I’ve chosen. So I’m reading up on recent travel reviews.
One of the most magnificent things about the Internet is how easily information is disseminated. I love that people’s opinions are out there, ready for the rest of us to peruse and help make decisions. I double-booked one night of our trip and having tapped into May reviews on TripAdvisor, I know just which booking I want to cancel.
There are plenty of places to find reviews online, including booking sites like Expedia as well as hotel websites. Of the two biggest review sites, I prefer TripAdvisor over Yelp. I find the demographic to be closer to my own, whereas Yelp seems to sway toward younger folks, and the reviews on TripAdvisor typically are more substantive. I don’t care how late the hotel bar is open and that there is a hot waiter serving table 12 who’ll slip you an extra crudites if you flirt hard enough. I want to know if the rooms are clean, if the desk staff is helpful, if you get a good night’s sleep on a comfortable bed, if the immediate neighborhood is safe, if there are rooms with views and free WiFi, and if the parking is free and breakfast is served.
I’ve no time for reading about someone’s personal lamentation of how they arrived at the hotel at 1 a.m. after their flight got delayed twice (is that the hotel’s doing?) and they couldn’t get staff to carry their bags up to their room. In other words, I find little value in reviews that are so specific to one person’s narrative that they are not helpful to the majority of readers. If I were to arrive past midnight, I’d expect the hotel to be short staffed and I’d also expect to carry my own bags to my room.
However, if you are in a room in which blaring music from the restaurant next door keeps you up at night, please let the rest of us know so we can ask for a spot on the opposite side of the hotel–or pack earplugs. Also let us know if the music is a nightly occurrence or due to a special occasion, like a wedding. Fill us in on whether you asked for a room change but were ignored (was the hotel fully booked, precluding a move?) and whether anything was done to rectify your disappointing experience.
Once, when staying at a high-rise in downtown Portland, Oregon, I came back to my room with my dinner to find a screaming baby in the room next door. The conjoining rooms were separated by a closed door, so quite a bit of noise traveled between the two. The crying continued throughout my meal, with the parents doing nothing, it appeared, to soothe the child. I had a feeling this would be a pattern and called down to the desk to request another room.
By the time I got off the elevator with my suitcase, I was presented with a key to an even nicer room. It happened to be movie night at Pioneer Courthouse Square, but I expected and even enjoyed the sounds coming from the venue below. Now, that’s a hotel review worth reading. I got an immediate positive response from the hotel desk and the noise I experienced in my second room was warranted–and completely muffled, I might add, by closing my window.
On this upcoming trip, after leaving Boston and tooling around Connecticut, I’m conflicted between staying in Newport, Rhode Island, overnight or driving up to Providence. I’ve booked hotels in both cities for the same day. The one in Newport is more expensive (by about $150 a night!), but it is in a lovely seaside resort. The Providence hotel, on the other hand, is in a historic building with many restaurants and sights within walking distance. Two different experiences that are equally nice.
After reading people’s opinions, I’ve settled on the Providence hotel, whose reviews average 4.5 out of 5, while there are plenty of examples of disappointed travelers who stayed at the inn in Newport. I’m getting a smoke-and-mirrors vibe from that place. It looks much nicer than it sounds, and the pluses seem to be for things we won’t be taking advantage of on our one night there, like the spa and the rooftop restaurant.
So thanks once again, TripAdvisor, for providing me with some feedback and sending my confused mind in the right direction.
I was in a charity thrift store today picking up a small table lamp, when I had, shall we say, a light bulb moment: Being that there were none at the thrift store, I realized I would have to buy a shade for the lamp elsewhere that would probably cost me three times as much as the lamp itself.
Why is that? Why are lampshades so expensive? They are made of paper or cloth and are attached by aluminum spokes. What’s the big deal there?
The cheapest shade I can find at Target for my small iron lamp is $9.99–or $4 more than I paid for the lamp. And the least expensive at Pottery Barn runs $28–more than four times the cost of the lamp!
I am at times befuddled by the price of certain items. It defies logic, for instance, that a hand towel would cost just a little less than a bath towel that is many times larger. And sometimes (see my example from Kohl’s below) hand towels cost even more than bath towels:
Even with the buy-one-get-one-half-off deal, two 16- by 28-inch hand towels would be $12, while two 30- by 54-inch bath towels of the same brand would be $10. Say what?
Printer ink is another example. The cost of a Canon all-in-one printer on Amazon currently runs at $69.99.
The ink to put in that very printer, however, costs $56.99 for a pack of color ink and one black cartridge.
If you want to add in another black–because don’t we always run out of black ink before color?—that’ll set you back another $22.
Any dummy could see it would be less expensive to throw out the printer when the ink runs dry and buy a new one. For the sake of the environment, I don’t advocate such a move, but manufacturers have consumers over a barrel by charging exorbitant prices for the materials that make the technology useful.
There are other items as well that are uber cheap to make and dispense but cost a small fortune for the sake of convenience. Movie theater popcorn and soda and wine at restaurants are some examples. Since most people don’t (shouldn’t?) bring in their own popcorn or Coke to see the latest blockbuster, it kind of makes sense that theaters would sell a bucket of popcorn costing $0.20 to make for $8.50. It’s simply good economic sense when considering the overhead.
But these other items, like printer ink, make very little sense at all. I mean, do people buy that many more bath towels than hand towels and, therefore, making the smaller items is not as cost effective for companies? I doubt it. Or do people really go without lampshades, making them a luxury item? I think not.
If anyone can tell me why some things cost so much–and if you can provide more examples–please comment below. In the meantime, I’ll be busy cutting my 1,620-square-inch bath towels into 448-square-inch hand towels.
I veer away from fretting and complaining today to bring you a special feature I’ll call “Rose in Reel Life,” an occasional post on current movies.
Today’s spotlight is on Booksmart.
What would you do if you found out the high school classmates you thought were screw-ups ended up achieving as much as you did by working yourself nearly to death? You’d probably join them, right? That’s the premise, anyhow, of the Olivia Wilde-directed film Booksmart, starring Beanie Feldstein (Lady Bird) and Kaitlyn Dever (Last Man Standing).
Throughout high school, Molly (Feldstein) and Amy (Dever) felt justified in working hard and getting top grades and accolades. Molly, class president, finds herself headed to Yale, while Amy prepares for a humanitarian trip to Africa before starting school at Columbia in the fall. They didn’t party one bit, and it shows. But after an unfortunate incident in the co-ed school restroom (is that a thing?), When Molly confronts her classmates, lording it over them what her stellar achievements gained her and what their foolhardy ways got them, she’s shocked to learn that they too are enrolled in prestigious schools or heading straight into interesting careers.
Humiliated and frustrated, Molly and Amy swear to not be outdone by their classmates this time either, and they decide to make up for all the good-girl behavior of the past four years by whooping it up at a blow-out party. Several mishaps along the way (some running too long, distracting from the story, I think) finally lead the pair to the mother of all parties. Mayhem ensues, of course, which leads to a falling out between Molly and Amy. At the fear of sounding like a Scholastic Book Club summary: Could this be the end of their friendship?
Overall, I enjoyed the film’s wit and cynicism, but I like a movie with real-life scenarios to be like real life and not a fantasy, where all the adults are either invisible (we only meet one set of parents) or are daffy and only featured to aid and abet the teens.
There are several inconceivable outcomes to some of the scenarios too, especially when the police show up at the party, leading to one teen’s arrest and its aftermath. There are of course some funny lines, but the dialogue is too sharp and clever for even Columbia- or Yale-bound kids to speak. The language is over the top and pretty raunchy overall, too, as are a few of the scenes, including one involving two teens in a bathroom becoming intimate. (However, it’s somewhat refreshing to realize four-letter words and overt sexuality have become so commonplace as to be almost meaningless.)
I’d give Booksmart a 7.5 out of 10. My score would have been higher had the teens acted more like vulnerable seventeen-year-olds and less like crude adults. After all, some of the self-realization they experience would more likely not have hit them until their thirtieth high school reunion.
Other movies on DVD or streaming to consider:
Lady Bird (R, 2018)—10/10: smart, funny, wise, believable, and just edgy enough.
Me and Earl and the Dying Girl (PG-13, 2015)—10/10: One of the most raw and creative films starring teens I’ve ever seen.
The Way, Way Back (PG-13, 2013)—9/10: Awkward moments of a young man during a summer of growing up.
My son in his mid-twenties is moving home today. He had been living with three other guys in a house within walking distance to the beach. The lease is up on the house, and the landlord can make more money with other tenants. So, on his way home my son comes.
And the move will affect us all.
It’s not the first time we’ve had an adult child return to the nest. Our second born and her roommate had to move out of their home when it was invaded by pests. Since they couldn’t scrape up the dough just yet to move into another apartment, they each went back to their respective parents’ homes.
Our daughter wasn’t any trouble. She worked full-time and hung out with friends while she saved up for her next place, so she wasn’t around that much. She was home for nine months or so, which although a relatively short period of time, still entailed giving up the freedom she had had in her own place. She’d become accustomed to sharing a two-bedroom, one-bath cottage with just one friend before moving back into a house where four other people, three of whom were adults, already resided. And she was stuck in a small bedroom again.
I had been using her room as my office, the first time in forever that I had a room of my own. So, I had to move my desk, computer, files, and office mess to my bedroom. She slept on the folded-up IKEA pull-out bed already in the room instead of setting up her own bed, which we stored in the garage.
Today, I moved that same pull-out bed back into my office to make room for my son’s full-size bed. Since my daughter had come back home, my mother-in-law had passed away and in the garage are now stored some of her possessions, including furniture. There’s not enough space for my son’s full-size bed.
So by myself, I played musical furniture. I removed two mattresses from the base of the pull-out bed, plus a 2.5-inch memory foam topper. I folded the bed frame back into a seat and inched it into the room next door. I squeezed the foam topper into a vacuum-sealed bag (not as easy as it looks on TV, folks) and did the same for two of the pillows and the down comforter. I also had to move the wicker settee from my office back into our bedroom, which had gone into my office so my husband could put his desk into our bedroom. He had been using my son’s old room as an office.
Needless to say, I’m very achy. One of the mattresses belongs on the IKEA piece, but the other does not. I had to do the best I could to roll it up and keep it in a semi-rolled state with Dollar Tree bungee cords. The closet in that bedroom is now packed with all these extra items. And my husband and I had made it so nice when our son left.
These are the easy things to do when an adult kid moves back in, though. What will be hard with the move will be a bruised ego to our son, who is still looking for fulfilling work after graduating college. It’s also an adjustment for his younger brother, who became used to being a fourth-born “only child,” and to my husband and me, who will have to accommodate one more person’s mess, noise, and presence.
Moving is never fun, but it’s especially not so when it involves emotions.
When I left my last part-time job in December, I believed the part-time life was behind me. I thought I’d go back to just freelancing, not thinking about what I’d be leaving behind. But it became apparent soon after the revelry from my birthday, anniversary, and the winter holidays came and went why I’d taken a part-time job in the first place: to get out of the house and to supplement my oftentimes meager freelance income.
Now I want my job back.
I have applied to several positions in the past twelve weeks, some freelance and some not. I’ve had two interviews, one just yesterday, of which I already found out I did not get the job, and one of three weeks ago that’s still pending. It’s with a city agency and the wheels of city hall do indeed turn slowly. I’m beginning to believe, though, that I didn’t get that job either. It’s a position I’ve applied to for years and years, nearly every time the city accepts applications, which occurs every six months. I did pretty well in the interview, but I’m not a kid anymore. I’ve always looked younger than my age, but there’s no denying I’m a mom of thirty-year-olds, not a thirty-year-old myself. I now have to be aware of age discrimination. It’s a fact of life.
There were 120 people being interviewed that week for who knows how many open positions (no one was saying), though I’m thinking it’s no more than a dozen. Now I’m second-guessing myself that I probably didn’t check off enough boxes on locations I’d desire to work at or I didn’t pick hours that included all seven days of the week. I used a friend and a superior as a reference and he’s supposed to let me know if he gets contacted, but so far crickets.
I get the blues, mostly because I’m longing for a feeling of belonging again, which I had when I was recently working and something that you lose once your kids age out of the house and you no longer fill your days with soccer games and swim meets and cross-country races. There are always other parents to chat up at those events.
There are times I feel guilty for getting so down, though. My son has been looking for a permanent full-time job since graduating college three years ago, and a week ago one of my daughters got word she either needs to relocate with her company or find a job here. She’s looking for work here first. If nothing comes her way in the short span of two months (!) the company gave her to decide, she’ll pack up her belongings and head more than 3/4 of the way across the country.
I don’t have it so bad. I do have some work, though my freelance career has begun to tank royally, and I am married to the main earner in the family. Plus, there’s plenty to do around the house in repairs to make, walls to paint, and more, so I don’t want to feel sorry for myself when the kids are in much more dire straits than I am. Still, it doesn’t diminish how I feel.
My son will be moving back home at the end of the month. (Will my daughter soon follow?) The lease is up on the place he shares with three other guys and the rent is going up. He can’t swing it on his part-time job.
The media have been putting out plenty of stories about how the economy is picking up and there’s a galore of jobs. I just did a Google search and nearly 200,000 new jobs surfaced in March alone. 200,000 jobs? Really? That means one for each able-bodied worker in the country. Sorry, that’s a fabrication. It has to be. I’ve been searching the jobs boards for nearly six months now. I see the same jobs pop up or never leave the boards. So, I doubt these “200,000” are new jobs, but more rehashed old jobs or jobs that employers stick out there to check out the current field of candidates, without the intent of actually hiring anyone.
Yep, it’s hard to believe there are hundreds of thousands of jobs available each month when three out of six of members of my family can’t find a singe one.