I recently submitted a video to Mike Michalowicz, who runs The Toilet Paper Entrepreneurs. In the short video I ask Mike how, as an entrepreneur with no budget, do I convince my spouse to invest in PR? Watch the 2:47 video and his answer here (episode 14).
A Facebook friend of mine named Michele Miles Gardiner unintentionally started a fun game yesterday. She writes: “Due to the new financial climate where the Fed is printing money like toilet paper, my husband and I are thinking of new numbers. Here’s mine: Gadzook-illions. Here’s my husbands: incomprehensi-billions.”
Other friends suggested:
nonsensicallions
screwthepeopllions
notworthshitillions
laughatrillions
Hmmm…I’m still trying to come up with one. What do you suggest?
I’ve been tagged by Free From Broke in some kind of personal finance blog game called a meme. I don’t know what a meme is but it sounds like fun. Here are the Meme rules:
- Link to your original tagger(s) and list these rules in your post.
- Share seven facts about yourself in the post.
- Tag seven people at the end of your post by leaving their names and the links to their blogs.
- Let them know they’ve been tagged.
7 Things You Didn’t Know About Bargain Babe
1) I have two older sisters, two younger sisters and two younger brothers. I am one of seven!
2) I have a master’s in Jazz History and Research. The research part has come in handy, the jazz stuff not so much.
3) I hate olives, raw tomatoes, and mustard. Yick!
4) I am a triathlete. I like running the best but am faster at biking and swimming.
5) For my college graduation present my Mom bought me a plane ticket to Africa, where I lived with my peace corps sister for four weeks in rural Guinea. I ate a lot of rice, boiled all my water, and my latrine and shower were one and the same!
6) My favorite candy is Twix, followed closely by Smarties, Snickers, Sweet Tarts, Skor, and Charleston Chew. Also, ice cream is very high on my list of things I would die for.
7) I really like to drive my MINI fast.
There you have it, 7 things you didn’t know about Bargain babe!
To continue the fun I’m tagging:
- Frugal Dad
- Tightwad Tod
- The Simple Dollar
- Frugal Freebies
- The Frugalista Files
- Girls Just Wanna Have Funds
I took advantage of JetBlue’s $69 one-way flights from Long Beach to New York City – what I call a smart splurge – and am having a ball visiting my sister in the Big Apple. Living in Los Angeles has softened me up, while she has become the consummate New Yorker.
She stays out all hours of the night, can calculate taxi fare between any two points, and has maximized the potential of her tiny apartment by stashing her microwave and toaster under the sink. They still work!
I am no longer a New Yorker, but being in the city I lived in for ten years has reminded me of all the things I miss:
- Fearless subway musicians who provide free entertainment while you wait, including a tap dancer at 42nd Street who set up a mini-stage and then danced to the beat of three drummers across the platform
- People so interesting looking that I can make up whole stories about their lives, like the philosopher with orange-brown hair who would eventually break the heart of the woman cuddling him on the subway even though he did not know it
- The rumbling of the trains passing below, a comforting reminder that you can go anywhere, do anything, at anytime
But I stayed long enough to remember why I left:
- Where did all these people come from? Get out of my way!
- Waiting so long for the NR that its nickname, the Never Rarely, comes true
- Smells that are not appropriate to write about, even on a blog
When I get back to Los Angeles I’m going to grab my yoga mat and let go all of New York – the good and the bad – with a few down dogs. I’m ready to be a softie again.
A friend recently turned me onto a new blog that is quite fun. It’s called GraphJam and its motto is “music and culture for people who love charts.” Here is one recent example this I think it funny.
Thanks, Dan!
I went shopping with a friend who spotted this super soft polyester hat at Old Navy. It was so cheap I had to buy it!
[poll id="11"]
Answer in tomorrow’s blog.
The Sunday NY Times Week in Review section published reader poems about the economic downturn. Here is a sampling. Contribute one by leaving a comment.
Those of us who’ve lost it all,
Thought not about the cost at all.
Those of us who are content,
Gave thought to every single cent.
- John Duvall, Hastings-on-Hudson, N.Y.
And:
The new recession
when rich folks must shop Costco
to save on Chanel.
- Maya Leland, Kaneohe, Hawaii
And:
I worked 50 years since I was 16
Saw visions ahead of the American dream
Saved and I saved, no splurges in sight
Bought an apt at the market’s height
Maxed my IRA and 401 too
Put it in blue chips, not CDOs like you
I dreamed of Paris and Venice and Rome
But I’ll be staying a lot closer to home
While all the bankers enjoyed their spree
Financed by naive ones like you and like me
- Barbara Roston, New York, N.Y.
And:
OK
401K
40.1K
4.01K
.401K
.0401K
NOT OK
-Gerald Duffy, Portsmouth, N.H.
And finally:
Last weekend
i wanted to buy something
spend a grand or two.
But then I remembered what the TV said
about the future
about tomorrow
about how I may not have a job.
So I sat by the window
and watched
the snow fall instead.
- Thomas Bernard Marblo, Charlotte, N.C.
I learned how to ride a bike at 3 to keep up with my older sisters. But I really learned how to ride from my Dad, a lifelong cyclist who has covered 300 miles in a day.
My Dad’s motto on the bike is “never stop pedaling.” I started riding with him because my public high school offered six classes a day. To squeeze in symphonic band, I skipped P.E. and made up the credits by cycling with him.
It wasn’t easy to keep up with him and on most rides I did not. Oh, who am I kidding? I never once kept up with him.
But yesterday, I was pretty sure, he would not be able to keep up with me. I was in near-peak shape and he was recovering from a sore back. Rain had prevented him from riding in weeks.
Mid-morning we set out for a hilly 38-mile ride and right away he started complaining that his legs were tired. On the first set of hills he begged off our original route and suggested an easier, shorter ride.
“I’m afraid I won’t make it,” he said.
“If it’s just fear, we should try it,” I replied.
“I don’t want to walk up the hills.”
So we agreed on the shorter ride, and I took off. A few miles down the road I stopped to wait for him because I did not know all the turns. He rolled by and sized me up.
“I may be up for the longer ride,” he said. “It’s such a nice day.”
Red flag No. 1.
On the next set of hills I leave him behind. At one meeting point he tells me to wait at the next peak in case he doesn’t makes it and needs to turn around. He makes it.
On the flats and rolling terrain he tucks in behind me and stays out of the wind, saving enough energy to keep up. On the hills, however, I pull away. Then we come to a T.
Turn right for the easy way home. Turn left for one last monster 2-mile hill.
“I could go either way,” I said.
“Well I suppose I could try the hill,” he said.
Red flag No. 2.
At the bottom of the hill he tells me to start without him.
“My quads are dead,” he said. “But wait for me at Inspiration Point.”
Ten minutes after I summit Inspiration Point he rolls up. We stretch for a minute before beginning the final leg of our ride, a twisty 3.5-mile stretch with a few bumps and a fast finish.
The whole ride I have been thinking about the finish. It is where my Dad always – always – sprints past me. But today, I think, he won’t even be close enough to make a move.
I am dead wrong. He stays about 30 feet behind me until we approach the final half mile. Then he latches onto my back wheel.
Red flag No. 3.
On the down slope where he usually makes his move, I glance back three times. He doesn’t budge.
So I sprint. My bike computer reads 29.6 miles an hour. My legs are killing me but I take a deep breath and tell myself I only have a quarter mile to go.
Just then, a flash of red zips by. My Dad.
Drat! I forget my legs and peddle harder until I begin to gain on him. But by the time I catch him he is already coasting. I finish ahead but the real race is already over. My Dad, who turns 64 later this month, is still faster than me.
Going into the ride I thought it would be an emotional milestone to finally surpass him on the bike. But as I choked back a sob, I realized it was crushing to still be No. 2.
I recover as we zip downhill together through the twisty Berkeley neighborhoods that rise above the San Francisco Bay.
“I thought your legs were dead,” I said.
“I guess I had a little more left.”
My Dad is still a faster sprinter, but I am the better climber. Next time I’ll chose a ride that ends on a hill.
A blogger is a different breed. We are driven, obsessive, and constant self-promoters.
I learned how to blog from a guy who sat across from me at the LA Daily News. His name was Greg Hernandez and he blogged constantly. This garnered a lot of attention, which led to blog envy (on my part). When I launched a blog at the paper we became instant rivals but also best blogger friends.
We shared tips, compared stats (5,430,499 wins for him, 19 for me) and learned from each other. He showed me how to embed videos and overcome my fear of telling everyone I know about my blog. I showed him how to align photos.
Now, he is blogging independently just like me. Greg in Hollywood is all things pop culture through a gay man’s eyes.
And so our mostly good-natured rivalry continues. I have one month on him, but no doubt he will catch up to me quickly. Good luck, Greg!
I went for a run on Saturday past homes I love to imagine are mine to a soft dirt path that circles a golf course. Just before the course there is a street that ends in a roadblock, except for a sidewalk that allows foot traffic through to a cul-de-sac on the other side.
As I approached I could hear children playing a game of kick ball in the cul-de-sac. I was running around it when six more children burst onto the street. The girls wore dresses, stockings and black Mary Janes. The boys wore suits, dress shoes, and had yarmulkes pinned to their dark hair. They were overdressed for kick ball and completely unaware of it.
The thrill of playing in the street consumed them. Oh, to have one last hour of fun before daylight disappears and parents call you inside! A girl skipped high into the air, throwing an arm up with each leap. A tiny fellow who looked to be about 5 flung his arms straight out, tipped his head to the sky and ran blindly forward, screaming with delight. They were showing the world exactly what they felt, without any self-awareness.
I wanted to take a picture, but I had only my eyes to capture the moment. Playing in the street, I decided, is as universal a childhood experience as any. And tonight, I was a kid again.
Newsflash: the Web site I can has cheez burger is still hilarious. If you haven’t met the LOL Cats, it is time. They are a perfect addition to the deliciousness of Fridays.
The site takes pictures of cats and puts headlines on them that will tickle you unless you are a grumpy old man. Here’s a preview.
Meet the LOL Cats yourself.
