This Week's Finance Lesson: Vanguard is NOT a Vacuum Cleaner Company

I made some type of investment this week. Not really the real grown up kind, but like a savings account that does more for you than a savings account. I did it through the grown-up company Vanguard which I thought was a vacuum cleaner company until I learned they are not as I was transferring one thousand dollars to them. One thousand dollars is their minimum investment amount which is what I chose and now I have a very real fear that I’ll never again see 4 digits in my bank account balance. I was really proud of that thousand dollars. “But what about your savings?” you ask? I don’t have any. THAT’S RIGHT. I DON’T HAVE ANY SAVINGS, OK!? OK!?? Well, I have my tax refund. Which I have vowed will be the beginning of my glorious savings. People (my age) are now saying things like “well, I’m considering going on that trip but I’d hate to dip into my savings” to which I respond by nodding with a neutral face. Did someone give out a packet about this in high school that I didn’t get? Or maybe I got it and ignored it and threw it away because sometimes I do that. But I would have followed directions if I had known. I wonder when those people found out they were supposed to do that…


So anyway, I decided to open some type of investment account. Through a long series of complicated events, my roommates and I got 2 months free rent on our apartment and I was worried I wouldn’t have the discipline to save that money which lead me to try and figure out how to do this investment account thing because I heard it’s harder to get your money out quickly. I would tell you if it’s a money market or a bond or stock or ETF or a Mutual Fund or an Annuity but I can’t because I have no idea which one it is. I just learned all those word when I saw them on the website. I picked Vanguard because my Mom told me to. I thought she was silly because she meant to tell me the name of a bank but instead told me the name of that Vacuum cleaner company, but it turns out she had the right name. There were only 4 options of things with a minimum of $1,000. The rest had a minimum of $3,000 and I don’t have $3,000 so that made the process a lot easier right there. 3 of the options were “Target Retirement” options and one was a “STAR Fund”. Now it seemed like I had only 2 choices. Retirement or STAR. Retirement feels like a long way away and Star was one of the few words I recognized on the Vanguard site and I like Stars so I picked it. And gave the stars $1,000 of my dollars. And put a gold star on my mirror in my bedroom to remind myself not to forget I have $1,000 somewhere. Out of sight, out of mind, you know. So there you have it. I have an investment (fund? Account)… something. I figure worst case, it will be a really great $1,000 financial lesson.

So if you’re in the same position, wishing you had savings to “try and not dip into” … let me know. I can’t give you advice, but I have 28 gold stars left on this sticker pad if you need one as a reminder. And then I will go out for drinks with you.



Keeping you posted-

-d

Back to Reality

#latergram blog post style.  Apologies for the delay.

It's our last day at Myrtle Beach and I'm sad to be leaving. I woke up with this unexpected feeling of melancholy that I haven't been able to shake.

When I get nervous or anxious or sad, I tend to get very quiet. It happens before a performance, any time I have to sing in front of people or give a speech, if I'm going to an event where I don't know a lot of people.  Some people get overly chatty or irritable; I deal with it by getting very quiet.

It happened this morning. All the girls were chipper and drinking mimosas together and I couldn't think of anything to say. I thought maybe I was just tired, but then I realized I knew this feeling.  So I came down to the beach- I felt like I might start I bring everyone else down.  I think it was a good decision – there’s so much breathing room here. We have to leave for the airport soon, but I have a couple minutes.

There's hardly anyone out here and it's cool, quiet, and beautiful.

I've been walking, trying to "change my mood" and thinking about how displaced I feel. I don't really feel like I'm leaving to go home. I've lived in this same apartment in New York for 2 years now, but it still doesn't feel like home, not really.  I'm comfortable there, it's familiar, I have friends and my own room (and a guinea pig, which like…how much more dedicated can you get?), but somehow it doesn't feel like home and I'm not sure why. I don't know what makes something feel like that. I imagine it’s the people - family.  Which makes me think- maybe the only home that really feels like home is the one you grew up in, until you have your own family?  Is that when you feel truly connected to a place again?  I'm sure it's different for different people. I've heard people say that their group of friends is more of a family to them than anything they've ever had. So maybe for them this does feel like home - or maybe nothing ever has.  I assumed that deep feeling of connection and establishment would evolve on its own out of something, just like it did growing up. You don't even know you're growing dangerously connected until you leave. But maybe now, it's something we have to make happen since we don't have parents to create it for us.  Maybe it comes from making a decision to commit to something, someone.  A place, a city, a person, a job and therefor a “hometown”.  A friend said to me the other day that grownups always talk about how wonderful it is to be committed – to a marriage or home or city – and I imagine (hope) that’s true, but I doubt they remember how difficult committing actually was at the time.  Maybe finding that “home” connection comes from biting the bullet and committing to something.

Our generations are very different in this regard.  There was more of a specific path expected of our parents, but we “have the world at our fingertips”.  It’s no longer: go to school, find a husband, get married and have children.  It’s: go to school, get a job, then do whatever the hell you want! Get married or don’t get married! Start a business! Become a lesbian! Anything goes! For my family at least, college was expected.  It was up to me where I would go, but that was the last stepping stone that was laid out for me.  And while it’s wonderful to have complete control over your life, there’s some fundamental need that is met with the feeling of simply fulfilling a task that is expected of you.  It’s clear, finite, and it feels good to live up to it.  You can check it off a list.  But now there is no list.  Not even the subconscious or “suggested” list that past generations had – and it’s wonderful.  And terrifying.  We have full ownership of every. single. life. decision.   It’s what we wanted.  And I’m grateful, but God it’s easier to caveat every decision with an “out”. “Yeah, you know, I’m doing this for now… we’ll see!”  Right now I feel about as committed to my East Harlem apartment as I do to this beach chair I'm sitting in.  It's both exhilarating and isolating, not being "tied down" to anything of real consequence.  Staying in this land of “I could get out at any time” is way less scary (less fulfilling?) than committing.  But I have this sinking feeling that this middle ground doesn’t create a life that feels like home.

So. I'm feeling melancholy and missing my family and home. Wishing I could stay on this beach forever.  In other news, I think I’m watching a little girl play on the beach for the first time in her life.  She was nervous about all the sand at first, but now looks comfortable enough to have been born on the beach.  She spent 2 whole minutes telling her friend about her brand new “bading” suit with watermelons on it.  I know you probably shouldn’t take photos of other people’s children…. But you can’t tell who they are, and I thought it was such a special moment that I wanted to share with you.

Must go to the airport to head “home” J

I’ll keep you posted,

- d

Grace In Your Heart and Flowers In Your Hair

This is for a special friend of mine who just made a big decision and is going through a really scary (= brave) change.  I was waiting on the subway platform last night thinking about you and how scary this is ( = brave you are) and how much I look up to you.  If I could sit and drink a beer with you tonight, this is what I would say.

I'm not going to pretend to know enough about the world to tell you what's "ok" and what's not, but I will tell you what is ok with me. If you decide this is what's best for you but that it's really hard, I will talk about the hard stuff as much as you want and that would be ok. If you decide you want to go back and try something else, I think that would be totally ok.  It’s ok with me that you’re scared.  Scared isn’t weak, scared is so strong.  If you didn’t do anything that made you scared, that might be weakness.  You’re putting yourself in a scary situation where you have to be brave to move forward and that’s big strength.  If this ends up being the best decision of your life and you fall in love and then become the first female president, I’d be ok with that too.  But not any more ok than any of the other options.

I know you’re struggling.  For now, do what makes you feel a little better.  I've found that in hard times, inspiration comes in tiny powerful bursts.  Things that inspire you feel really inspiring because you're feeling a lot, but they also burn out quickly. Don't be discouraged. It doesn't mean you can't be inspired, it just means you have to seek out more of those little firecrackers. It's a good thing because it'll give you a mission in the meantime and I for one always feel better when I have a mission. Seek them out. Those tiny things that inspire you. Don't worry about making it a great day or having the time of your life because that's a lot, and you'll miss the little firecrackers. You'll get to that, because I know that's what you want for yourself. I think that's your default. I know you and you wouldn't settle for anything less than that so don't worry about that now. You'll take yourself there naturally whether you know it or not.  Just one little firecracker at a time for now.

You're so brave. Unless you've been Jedi mind-tricking me all along, you're one of the bravest people I know. The thing I know that I know is that you care more about the reasons behind your decisions than most half-grown-ups our age, so I'm not worried about the decisions you make.  I don't think you'rev worried about that either.  Just get up, maybe sing a song in the shower, then do the thing you're supposed to do that day. If you want to watch reruns of The West Wing and eat Cheetos after work, then do that. That's it. Don't worry about making it a great day, making them proud or having enviable status updates on Facebook. Just do what makes you feel good. You can lean on people, they won't mind. The thing about time is that it takes a lot of time.

So many people love you including me and you're going to be great. But for now, just shoot for being good.  And when you’re not, ask someone to help you get there. It’s ok.

Another friend sent me this song when I was struggling and I think it’s beautiful.  Maybe you will too.

All all all my love.

Night has always pushed up day
You must know life to see decay
But I won't rot, I won't rot
Not this mind and not this heart,
I won't rot.

And I took you by the hand
And we stood tall,
And remembered our own land,
What we lived for.

And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.And now I cling to what I knew
I saw exactly what was true
But oh no more.
That's why I hold,
That's why I hold with all I have.
That's why I hold.

And I won't die alone and be left there.
Well I guess I'll just go home,
Or God knows where.
Because death is just so full and man so small.
Well I'm scared of what's behind and what's before.

And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.

The Best Years of Your Life, DAMNIT!

“I hope life isn’t a big joke, because I don’t get it.”

- Jack Handey

One of the eternal struggles (ok, 10-year struggles at most) of a twenty-something is knowing how to “take advantage” of this time.  We get so much advice from wistful grown-up-folk about what they “would have done differently” if they were starting out all over again.  That they would have traveled, taken more time for themselves before settling down, taken more risks…etc.

I can remember my senior year of high school hearing over and over again things like “oh my gosh, college will be the best four years of your life” or “If I could go back and do it all over again, I would!  It doesn’t get better than this”.  I couldn’t figure out why, but I HATED when people said that to me.  It didn’t make me excited, it was terrifying.  Graduation parties were the worst.  Every grown-up would ask you about your plans, where you’re going, what you’re majoring in and then follow with “Oh, Drew… enjoy it… they’ll be” I KNOW! THE BEST MOTHER-EFFING FOUR YEARS OF MY LIFE! 

Now, for some people, I think they truly are wonderful years.  Maybe the best of their lives.  But I was trying so hard to make them the best years, I honestly can’t tell you how I felt feel about them.  They were good.  I met great people, made decisions good and bad, and got two degrees.  The best four years of my life?  God, I don’t know.  That’s a lot of pressure.

A psychoanalyst named Karen Horney (yeah, her last name’s Horney.  It’s funny) called this the “tyranny of the should”.  I feel confused and lonely…but these should be the best years of my life.  I just went through _____.  I should feel wonderful but I don’t.  No amount of thinking about what should be is going to make it true.  We won’t ever be at peace with what is if we constantly focus on what should be.  Here’s an excerpt from The Defining Decade that touches on just this:

“Aren’t I supposed to be traveling in France or something right now, like for three years?” [Talia] asked

. . . With her tailored shirt and tiny handbag, Talia didn’t look like she would enjoy traveling for three years.
“Is going to France for three years what you want to be doing?” I asked.
“No,” she sniffled, “but shouldn’t I be having my own Eat, Pray, Love?”
. . . “Why are you asking about this now? Would you like to take a vacation in France?”
Talia broke into deeper sobs. “No, the truth is… I just want to go home.”
“Oh. Then let’s talk about that.”
When I asked about the “just” in “just go home,” Talia said she felt like going home would be “giving up” or “taking the easy way out.” The friends she’d made could not understand why she would want to leave the Bay Area and go back to Tennessee. Her father, someone whose own travels had defined who he was, said this was her chance for adventure. Whenever she hinted she wanted to move home, he would say, “Why would you want to do that?”

. . . This time we talked about what was real, not in terms of unemployment rates and starter jobs, but in terms of what was authentic for Talia.

. . . I told her that an adult life is built not out of eating, praying, and loving but out of person, place, and thing: who we are with, where we live, and what we do for a living. We start our lives with whichever of these we know something about.
Talia was enjoying her rising career in marketing, and now she had a clear vision about her place. This was encouraging.

. . . Talia started to wonder if going back to Nashville was taking the easy way out or if, at this point, she was doing it the hard way. “Why am I going broke living here? Why am I trying to meet someone so far away from where I want to be?” she asked.
“Good questions.”

Excerpt From: Jay, Meg. “The Defining Decade.” Grand Central Publishing, 2012-04-17.
This material may be protected by copyright

For me, that pressure didn’t go away after college.  It did morph into something a little different… it’s real sneaky-like that way.  But every time I come to a crossroads, I find myself desperately reaching out for approval and I realize that pressure hasn’t gone anywhere –it probably just shops at Ann Taylor Loft now instead of Forever 21 (but only because their low-rise jeans don’t cover its butt crack anymore or it would still shop there.  Wait, are we still talking about pressure?)  It’s been on my mind a lot as I try to navigate my current situation and here’s what I’ve found:

When in doubt, I choose “hard” because people like people who do hard things.  I like them too.  I want to be one of them.  So when I was facing what college to transfer to (Oklahoma City or Penn State) ... I went with my “gut” (read: what I felt I should do - since I didn’t know what I wanted to do): Penn State.  I knew I would get a degree from either, but people would be proud if I was able to move across the country, join a program in a school that none of us had ever been to, and thrive.  When it came time to decide where to move after college, my options were limitless.  I didn’t have a job yet, so I could go anywhere. Move home? Meh…. No one will be excited about that. How about NEW YORK CITY? Yes!  That’ll make ‘em proud!  There were of course other factors that went into these decisions, and I’m so happy for both of them, but approval was a big motivator.  The harder it is, the more they’ll say to their grown-up friends that I’m “making the best” of my time.  I wanted them to say “Wow!  I wish I had had the nerve to do that in my twenties.”  I wanted them to believe I was smart and independent.  That I was “wise beyond my years”. 

I’m not sure if it’s the fact that I’m a bit older now, that my current decisions affect more than just me, or if it’s just a phase (I hope not), but I’ve been working hard to eliminate external pressures. To not factor outside “approval” into my decision-making process.  I’ve been trying to make decisions all by my big-girl self.  What have I found?  No concrete answers.  Not one (yet).  BUT - I feel smarter and and more independent than I ever have before.  I don’t know if my decisions are right or wrong but I MADE THEM!  I made them, ya’ll! All by myself.   And I’m still alive, and they still give me a paycheck at work, and my family and friends still like me.  In fact, I don’t even think they care that much about what I decided.  It’s big.

I’m hoping this gets easier and easier as we get older.  I still value the opinions of those who are close to me, and I think there is a lot of value in the fact that they are older, more objective, have more experience, etc.  But ultimately, it feels really good to have ownership over your decisions (since you are the one who has to live with them after all). I don’t know where the line is yet, but at least I figured out that there IS a line!  Trying to put my finger on it…

I’ll keep ya posted –

-d

“The best years of your life are the ones in which you decide your problems are your own. You do not blame them on your mother, the ecology, or the president. You realize that you control your own destiny.”

-Albert Ellis