An Affair to Remember

My stepfather, let’s call him Ron, who I hope never ever finds out about this blog, reminds me of the governor in Tim Burton’s Nightmare Before Christmas.  You know the one.  He is charming and friendly, but one small provocation and he turns into an angry destructive force.  The trait pops doesn’t share with the governor is his remorse for his own personal life and his propensity to cheat on my mother.  My father’s latest and greatest affair happened right before – you guessed it – I started law school.

halloween

The govna.

This time, he chose his ex-wife, a particularly unsavory (and extremely unattractive) hag named Renee.  Renee is one of those sorry older women who never quite grew up.  Though she is well into her 50’s, she owns several tanning salons and believes that her female teenage employees actually like her.  She drives a convertible that makes her double chin and shoulder fat flap in the wind ever so carelessly.  She lives in a large, 2-story home by herself and drinks and parties daily to mask her bitterness for being old and alone.  The affair started quickly and unexpectedly, and it lasted nearly 2 years.  During that time, my stepfather depleted his savings and retirement funds (which actually belonged to my mother as well since she has been a housewife for 20 years), he was hospitalized for having a stroke, and he shattered our family and my faith in him permanently.

The first time I learned of the affair, I was about 24.  My mom told me that Ron came home at 4 am one evening. When she asked where he was, he told her that he was out with his friends and she had to just deal with it.  My mom is not the best at just “deal[ing] with it.”  She started asking him his whereabouts all the time and finally knew he was having an affair.  “I just know it, he’s done this before,” she used to say.

I don’t quite know how my mom found out it was Renee. Nonetheless, it was shocking news to all of us.  Renee and my father used to party together when they were young.  They broke up and went their separate ways, and she showed up a year later with a baby, swearing it was Ron’s.  Classy broad.  Now, Ron is about 5’8” with hazel eyes, dark brown hair, and fair skin.  The child, now 38, is 6’6” with bright green eyes, olive skin, blond hair, and no features similar to Ron.  He refuses to get a DNA test (they are old now, I guess it makes sense), but everyone has their suspicions.  Renee was a loose woman to say the least, and she still is for that matter.  Who knows whose baby she ended up with.    We found out that Renee initiated the conversation.  She asked Ron if they could meet to “catch up” and discuss what is going on in each other’s lives.  In case you missed it before, this child is completely grown.   There is absolutely no reason to “catch up” with an ex if you are in a new relationship.  You discuss your children until they are 18, then you get out of their lives and focus on your new spouse.

babydaddy

Oh yeah no, this looks legit.

Obviously, Ron took the bait.  That opened some Pandora’s box of feelings, I suppose, as it spun into a disgusting 2 year affair.  I don’t remember the order of everything, so the events below are not exactly chronological, but they are all absolutely true.  Before I get to that, I want to talk a little bit about why it happened.  I spent a lot of time thinking about what brought them to that point.  An indiscretion is one thing, but he just took a two year dump on my mother and all of us.  I want to believe there is a good reason, something I don’t know.  I didn’t find any of that.  I did reason, however, that he was bored out of his mind.

housewife

Mom, circa 1950.

My mom is a housewife, and she has been since they got married.  She is definitely not a sexually adventurous person (I know that because during this affair she shared a whole lot of things she shouldn’t have).  She is predictable – she doesn’t go out, she doesn’t drive at night, she doesn’t travel…and she doesn’t cook often (nor does she seem to really care about her cooking), and she was not a very good housekeep until very recently.  Those all seem like negative things, but I don’t mean them in that way.  She is not concerned about anything besides her family and she doesn’t do anything that would shock any of us.  That’s a good quality, I think.  In a marriage, however, men have to have a little fun.  Not with other women, but they need to do spontaneous things with their spouse; take trips; go out on dates; make a sheet fort in the living room – it doesn’t matter!  Just something out of the ordinary (and that includes intimate activities) from time to time.  I think this is what was missing from their marriage.  Sweet words and consistency are nice – but no variety will kill a relationship.

I would like to clarify, however, that I am NOT justifying the affair.  There is no excuse.  If you’re bored, say something.  Don’t f**k over the people who depend on you.

Now, back to what happened.  Renee set out not only to destroy the marriage, but she also intended to destroy my mother.  She went about this in several different ways:

  1. She separated the extended family. Since my father was previously married to Renee and she had a child with him (who was close with our extended family), she did not hide the affair.  She told everyone that he was back with her.  She gossiped to anyone who would listen about how all my mother does is spend Ron’s money and make him take care of her kids (read: my brother and I).  She labeled my mother an uneducated golddigger, white trash, not worthy of what Ron gave her.  Because Ron’s family is filled with unsavory characters and sociopaths, most of them listened.  His wife of 17 years, who nursed him through his first stroke, paid all of his bills, did all of his laundry, prepared all of his meals, slept with him, waited patiently through his extramarital affairs, took care of all his personal errands, and did everything she knew to do to keep him happy, was suddenly “just using him” for his money. Interesting.
obama-teenage-girl-meme-generator-oh-no-she-didn-t-820218

She did, Papa BO, she did.

  1. She had our utilities cancelled.   Since Renee was married to Ron in the past, she knew his social security number, birthday, likely passwords to accounts, old addresses, mother’s maiden name, etc.  She also knew his current address (i.e. where my mother lived).  So, once every 2-3 weeks, she would call and have one utility or another shut off.   The ones I remember were electricity, the alarm system, and our cable.  Eventually, we password protected the accounts so that she could no longer affect our lives at home.  Can you imagine how desperate someone has to be to go to these lengths?

 

  1. She drained my father’s savings. She convinced him to go to lavish restaurants, take vacations, buy jewelry, and anything else she could claw with her fat fingers.  She depleted the chance of early retirement for him.  And I am willing to bet that she did it not just because she is a pathetic whore, but also to make my mom suffer.  My father worked at a great non-profit for 17 years.  He had retirement set.  He traveled often, he was a well-respected director, and he truly enjoyed his employment.  He was, however, planning on getting out of the workforce at 65, and he was all set to do so until she came along.
  1. She sent malicious messages to me and my brother. Renee sent me one message before I sent her a scathing response and blocked her. It had personal details about me that she could not have known unless Ron told her.  She mocked me about them.  I was shocked to see that she had the audacity to feel superior to ANYONE, especially the step-daughter of the man she was sleeping with.  My brother played her game a little and messaged back and forth.  He never cared for Ron and he made that clear, but he is a mama’s boy if I ever saw one and he was furious about what she was doing to our mother.
  1. She had my brother robbed and beat up. There is no way to prove that she did this, but it is just too great of a coincidence.  In addition to tanning salons, Renee also managed a couple of apartment properties.  My brother lived in one of them before the affair started (for such a big place, DFW is a small world).  My step brother magically found out what apartment my brother lived in and GOT A KEY to access it.  My brother got pretty beat up, his apartment trashed, and several of his possessions broken and/or stolen. Trash just runs through their blood.
  1. She pressured my father into abusing substances. As I have stated before, I am aware that no one can make you abuse but YOU.  However, there are many environmental factors which may influence how much, what, or when the abuse takes place.  Ron was always a drinker, but he stuck to light beer (Michelob Ultra and the like).  Renee, however, would have Margarita Wednesdays, Champagne Thursdays, and all the other made-up drinking days which are pathetic to celebrate after college.  My father became a heavy drinker, and he also mixed in some marijuana, ecstasy, and perhaps other substances – who knows.  He is a diabetic, overweight, and already had one stroke.  Using this hard and this frequently put him right back in the hospital for stroke number 2.  She could have literally killed him.

Though my mother told my father about all of these things, he didn’t really believe her.  He thought my mom was hurting and doing what she could to break them up. The thing is, my mom didn’t have to make up any stories about that woman.  The truth was a much better story than my mother could have ever imagineered.  When my father’s eyes were finally opened was when Renee took it one step too far.  She went after the grandbaby. Renee’s fatal blow:

  1. She filed a complaint with Child Protective Services (CPS). CPS is the organization in Texas which investigates reports of child abuse and neglect and has authority given by the state to remove children living in dangerous situations.  As I mentioned in my previous post, my mother raises my brother’s first-born son.  At the time of the affair, my nephew was around 11 or 12.  Renee called CPS and claimed that my mother was alcoholic, suicidal, and had guns in the home.  These allegations were seasoned with the truth, but must be qualified.
  • My mother developed a temporary binge drinking habit when she believed her marriage was over. I don’t think she was the first or the last person to go through that.
  • Suicidal – meh? I think many people flirt with the thought of “what if it all just ended?”  I don’t think that makes one suicidal, but therapists tend to think if the message is in your brain for just a fleeting moment then the alarm must be sounded.  I don’t know that my mother was going through that, but I would not be surprised if she considered it considering the circumstances. I don’t think she would ever, EVER follow through. She loves all of us too much.
  • Finally, we had a ton of guns in the house. Probably 50.  But, my mother and I hate guns.  They were inherited by my stepfather when his dad passed away.  His dad was a gun collector and a veteran, and since he was near 90 when he died, he managed to collect quite a few. The guns were kept in a safe with an 8 number combination lock which only my stepfather knew the password to.
  • To summarize, it was not likely that my mom was going to commit a drunken murder-suicide anytime soon.

Nonetheless, CPS can’t simply ignore complaints, even when they come from a filthy mistress.  They pulled my nephew out of school (quite unexpectedly to us) and talked to him about his home life.  They also paid us a visit, where we stated what was going on in very clear terms to the CPS worker. Though we suffered a bit of frustration, her attempt to pull our nuclear family apart failed in that regard.

As horrible as the CPS experience was for my nephew and my mother, it is absolutely wonderful that Renee went through with it.  It caused Ron to see what was really going on (and this time, he knew it was real, since CPS called him too).  He left Renee, ran back home, and never looked back.

drake

My boyfriend Drake always knows the perfect thing to say.

His homecoming didn’t come without consequences, however.  He did all the usual things that cheating asshats do; he bought my mother a car, took her on a mini vacation to a Colorado resort, got her a HUGE rock…but Renee wasn’t just going to brush off her defeat (why start acting ladylike now, AMIRITE?).  She hit him where it hurts – his job.  See, we found out later that Ron had been taking Renee on his business trips and using his corporate card to pay.  His company allowed spouses to travel free (and even children at a significant discount), but unfortunately for him, there was no company allowance for mistresses.  Since she was his ex wife, she still had a few contacts at the company, and she let them know all about the affair, the trips, and even told them that he didn’t have the degree that was on his resume.  He did lie about a degree (he was about 6 credit hours short of the degree when he dropped out to help the family business) but in his defense, he had been working there for nearly 20 years and proven himself capable (hence quickly becoming an international director).  Anyway, lies always tend to catch up to us, and Ron and his boss had been experiencing a little friction and this was just the fuel the boss man needed to let him go.  Ron was fired within a week of coming home.

At this point, I had a ton of emotions, but the thought which rang the loudest was – MY POOR MOTHER.  Mom was divorced when I was 6 because by biological father was in the weeds with a heroin addiction.  She quickly met Ron, and he they were married within a year.  She stayed by him during his alcoholism, during his first couple of affairs, and completely integrated herself into his family.  Hell, even while he was having the affair, she was taking care of his dying mother at our own home.  She has her flaws, but I am still amazed she stayed with him.

So…why did she?  I mean, anyone reading this would likely see that not only was this a bad affair, but it hurt more than just my mother’s heart.  There are so many reasons, how about another list?!

  1. Texas does not have alimony. There is a “spousal allowance” allowed in some cases (e.g. if you have children, if there was domestic abuse involved in the relationship, etc.), but there are no general provisions which help housewives after a divorce.  My mom had been out of the workforce for nearly 20 years and she was in her 50’s.  Getting a job would mean starting out at minimum wage.  She could have done it, but what kind of life would she be looking at?  We have a large 3 bedroom house with 2 living rooms, 2 dining rooms, a pool, and plenty of land.  Moving from that to a shitty apartment with a job at a grocery store would be rough to say the least.
  1. She was raising a child. Let’s not forget about my nephew, who was in junior high at the time.  His parents didn’t want him, and my mom was all he had. She didn’t want to disrupt what little security he felt.  Staying in the same house and the same school was something she believed he needed.
  1. She didn’t want to be twice divorced. This is something that I understand.  I think after the first fiasco, people just get tired.  They become a little more willing to deal with other people’s shit in order to avoid a messy legal battle and a huge transition in life.  Plus, she thought she was doing the Christian thing to stand by her man (I’m not even going to get started on that right now).
  1. She tried dating and it was terrible. My mom joined an online dating site and went out a couple of times. The guys she met were exactly what I expected – 20 years aged since their photo, body odor, visible wedding ring tan line, etc.  Not anything that was marriage material.  Plus, as she put it, she didn’t want to date.  She felt old, and she wasn’t interested in getting to know anyone new.  I hope I don’t just give up like that one day and decline a new chapter in life, but I respect what she felt was right for her.

online dating

  1. She didn’t want to have to depend on us. This one is the hardest for me to swallow.  My mom knew that if she got a divorce and went out on her own, she would have to call on us for help.  Her extended family can’t even take care of themselves, and my brother and I don’t completely have it together, but we are in a position to keep her head above water and we will do it without question.  She didn’t want that for us.  She wanted us to keep finding ourselves and living our lives without having to support her.

My mother will sacrifice anything for us, and I suppose that is the definition of being a mother.  I know many women who give birth and forget this obligation and that’s so unfortunate.  I have lots of issues with my mom, but I know that if it were between me and anything else on the planet, she would choose me a thousand times over.

Now that the mushy stuff is done…let’s get this over with.  My parents are doing ok now.  There has not been a new affair to our knowledge.  My mom has access to all his accounts and regularly checks his phone and email because she doesn’t trust him (and probably won’t until he can no longer go to the bathroom on his own).  He found another job after 18 months of unemployment and my mom is slowly patching their finances back together.  I moved to Oklahoma with my fiancé, and my brother is still a hardcore mama’s boy.  Ron has tried really, really hard to make a comeback.  He started taking my nephew to Boy Scouts and camping trips.  He started to call and text my mom regularly and take her out once in a while.  He works hard and comes straight home after.  He took a great interest in my law school studies. He’s done that for about three years now and they seem to be doing fine.  But as for me…I just can’t forgive him.  I want to be a bigger person and be able to set aside the fact that he (temporarily) threw our family in the garbage.  I want to believe that it must have been my mom’s fault too.  I want to believe that he was suffering from some demon that made him act out of character.  But every time I think about it, I come to the same conclusion.

He’s an asshole.  And she is a whore (…did I mention that she was married at the time of the affair to someone else as well?).  They will always be that in their core.  I can be pleasant to him since, after all, he does support my mother and he supported me through my adolescence, but I don’t have to like him.  And for now, I choose not to.

P.S. I apologize for the language and general negativity of this post.  The subject matter is difficult for me and though I am generally forgiving, I am still in the anger phase of healing with regard to this one.  Thanks for reading.

 

 

Real Talk: Life as an Alcoholic, Part II

This is a continuation of a previous post.  Read Part I here!

If you thought my last entry was sobering (yak yak yak), buckle your seatbelt.  The next chapter is where it all started to catch up.

Ever since I was a little girl, I dreamed of going to law school.  I have no idea why.  Perhaps I saw a television show which made it look interesting, or maybe I was convinced it would bring me fame and riches.  Regardless of the source, I stuck to this goal without actually considering that I wasn’t too interested in the law and maybe my talents would be better suited in another field.  Sitting here now, I feel like the young men and women who complain that they didn’t chase their dreams after high school because their parents were forcing them to follow a particular career path.  I was my own dictator, and I really wish I had the courage and foresight to stand up to myself.

baby lawyer

When I got accepted into law school, I was naturally excited, but also panicked. I had a job that I loved at a huge resort, a lifestyle that I had become accustomed to, and a social life that was rich and full of new experiences. I really had it all.  Giving all of that up was something I saw as necessary – I wanted to move on to bigger and better things and have some impressive degree.  Now, more than anything, I wish I would have stayed there and enjoyed that life.  I could have easily moved up the ranks, shipped out (the hotel was purchased by Marriott, and employees can transfer all around the world), or stayed in my position making a livable salary and loving my life.

 

gaylord

The Gaylord Texan Resort in Grapevine, Texas (the hotel that still has my heart)

The acceptance letter, to me, was sort of the announcement of a prison sentence.  I knew I couldn’t do any of the things I loved during law school and my life would be constantly controlled by the need to turn in assignments, read cases, research, etc.  So I started to make dumb choices.  A lot of them.

My first bad move was hanging out with a group of promoters.  These are folks who get paid to throw parties at clubs – they get a commission per head, they get free drinks, and they get VIP and after-party passes.  Now, I am not exaggerating when I tell you that I don’t like partying. I really don’t.  I feel anxious and out of place at bars and clubs, even though I have had years of experience working in such establishments.  I was never one of the “cool kids” – always a lone ranger of sorts.  As you recall, I drink more than normal when I am anxious.  Boozing it up, once again, became an activity that I did nearly every night of the week.  My parents told me to stop, my friends said I was “a little much,” my bank account was drained and I looked and felt like shit regularly.  But you better believe I convinced myself I was having a great time.

rebecca

I wasn’t kidding.  Total train wreck.

Law school was not the only external stressor in my life at that time.  My family was also a huge contributor to my drinking.

(Let me say something here. I agree with what you are thinking – no one can make you drink but YOU.  However, the people you love and spend most of your time with can absolutely contribute to your level of stress.  I don’t care how much you meditate – if your home life is a wreck, it’s a wreck.  They way I dealt with stress was drinking.  Bad choice?  Yes. My fault?  Yes.  Did I cause my own stress? Not completely.)

 

I intend to writing a separate post on this, so I will spare you the details – but at the time I was filling out my law school applications through when I started classes, my stepfather was having an affair with his first wife.  Not just a casual once-a-week after work sort of thing…but he moved out of the house and only communicated with my mother to discuss bills and other necessities.  At that time, my mother was drinking heavily, she dropped 50 pounds, and she was actually not a mother at all, but more like a sister who fell off the deep end.  Concurrently, my stepfather’s mother was literally dying of lung cancer and refused to stay in a nursing home, so my parent’s house (where I lived) doubled to serve a as a hospice unit.  Our formal dining room was converted into a hospital room of sorts, complete with a toilet, bedpan, and medical supplies so that my mother could administer morphine drips and the like.  To recap, the house smelled like death, my mom was practically manic, my brother and I were both drinking tons, the “man” of the house was off playing house elsewhere, and my brother’s firstborn, who my mother raised, was only 11 at the time and needed tons of attention and supervision. Good times.

So, one of those nights I headed out with one of my promoter friends.  He was a Venezuelan guy who went by “Toto.”  He got me into a Latin concert at the House of Blues with free admission, valet, and drinks. The night was so-so; I didn’t know the band and I didn’t know anyone there, but I was convinced it was a cool thing to do.  As the night went on, I got completely hammered by mixing drinks on an empty stomach.  I agreed to go to an after party, then another after party, at which point I was near a blackout.  Toto was driving my car because I definitely couldn’t, and he agreed to take me to his home and let me sleep it off at his place.  We got there and all was well.  I was in safe, I had a roof over my head, and I wasn’t driving.  Unsurprisingly, it didn’t stay that way.

I went to the restroom to get sick for a while, and my brilliant drunk brain thought it would be a good idea to just sleep there.  Toto lived with family and couldn’t have a girl in high heels and a miniskirt passed out in his bathroom, so he pulled me out and placed me in his bed, where I immediately passed out.  I awoke several minutes later at the sensation of movement.  Surprise surprise…Toto thought the drunk girl in his bed was an easy catch.  I was completely uninterested in that man, and I wasn’t about to let anything happen despite his feigned generosity chauffeuring me around.  I got up, demanded my keys and started being simply cantankerous.  Though he warned multiple times that I couldn’t drive, he eventually gave in so that my screaming wouldn’t interrupt his family or neighbors.  I got in my car and started driving.  I had no idea how to get home, I knew I just wanted to get our of there.    As if he knew, Toto called to warn me that there were many cops in the area. As soon as the words left his lips, I saw the lights behind me.  I had been pulled over when I was drinking previously, and I thought I could get out of this one.  I was wrong.

I pulled over into a gas station parking lot.  The reason?  I didn’t have the front license plate on my vehicle.  The real reason?  It was 2AM on a Saturday in a small town and these cops needed to feed their families. I performed the field tests (more on this later – you will NEVER get out of a DWI for your performance on these tests) and talked to the officers. I was so polite with them because I had never been pulled over.  They were polite right back, but they still had to arrest and charge me.  I wasn’t handcuffed, they talked to me all about getting into law school, and they apologized that they had to make the arrest.  It actually did make me feel better, even though that was the beginning of a long terrible journey.

That night, I slept in a freezing jail cell in Rowlett (Dallas County) and called Toto for bail the next day.  I was too embarrassed to call my parents.  I went to eat with him and his father and they assured me that everything was going to be fine.  I believed it, since I personally know so many people with DWIs.  I went home that evening, took a shower, and slept.   On Monday, I went to work as usual.  I got a phone call on my way home from my mother.  She found out about the DWI because of the 50+ advertisements we received from DWI lawyers around the metroplex (when you get arrested, your charge is available on the county database – lawyers can target you based on why you were arrested).  She was furious and I tried to explain to her that it was already in the past and that I would deal with it.  All of the sudden, she said she needed to go because my grandmother just died.  If that’s not a scene made for a Lifetime movie, I don’t know what is.

For those of you who don’t know, Dallas county is huge; and there is a TON of crime there.  There were over 99,000 arrests last year in Texas for DWIs alone.  My plea would not occur until 18 months later – after I had completed my first year of law school, had a birthday, became a student teacher, and all but forgot about the charge. The drinking continued, but I was a lot more careful with driving.  I only drove when I was REALLY not intoxicated. Several times I offered to be the DD and had no issue with it.  For a while, I calmed down.  I didn’t get drunk, I focused on school, and I tried to get my life back on track.  I definitely wasn’t prepared, however, for the amount of binge drinking involved in law school.

First year law students are able to drink at every turn.  Mixers held at the school have wine and beer.  The administrators and professors encourage students to get involved with local bar associations and the like – and all of the events have drink tickets.  Law school socials are held around town at bars.  There are no classes held on Fridays, so Thursday nights are the…well…I don’t remember most Thursday nights of my 1L year.  I made some mistakes that gave me a couple of enemies, I developed crushes that would never amount to anything, and by the time I made it to my third year, I realized I hated everyone and just wanted to graduate.

Interestingly, during law school orientation, a few hours are dedicated to substance abuse issues.  After dentists, it is believed that lawyers have the next highest rate of substance abuse issues as an industry.  How those statistics are gathered or their accuracy is questionable (as with any statistics) but going to law school and working in a law firm made me a firm believer that if you don’t drink heavily, you must be a yoga instructor or a heroin addict.  Though I had already been arrested for a DWI, and I had all of the negative experiences I mentioned in my previous post and then some…I still didn’t think I was at risk for that. Not me!  I just had a temporary, one-time slip up.

If only that were true.

To be continued…

Real Talk: Life as an Alcoholic

One of the things that shaped my personality the most as a young woman was my dangerous relationship with alcohol.  Using it has prevented me from getting a law license, led to two arrests, ended relationships, caused weight gain and depression, ruined what should have been good memories, put me in dangerous situations, and depleted my finances.  I am finally over the addiction, and I feel so strong and accomplished.  I would like to share the highlights of my story.

The first time I got drunk, I was 12 years old.  My family is full of heavy drinkers, and I was left unsupervised at my aunt’s party in a trailer park near Cedar Springs Lake.  I had 3 to 4 mudslides (which, to a young person, taste like milkshakes).   That night, I was sexually abused by my cousin – a foreshadowing of the blurred lines of consent while intoxicated.  I stayed up half the night vomiting, and the other half I spent dry heaving.  My grandfather and other family members learned of the incident and stayed with me that night to make sure I didn’t suffocate on my own vomit.  They were upset, but not upset enough to tell my mother.

3_frozen-mudslide

Exhibit A: Mudslide.

     The next few years were my happiest.  I had great friends. I did well in high school, and I met my first love.  Not much happened with regard to alcohol abuse until I was 18 and started working at a local bar.  At that time, my boyfriend had moved overseas (he was not an America citizen, just here to study), and I tried to be strong through that experience but the truth was that I was devastated and heartbroken, and it would take me several years to recover.  I got a job at the bar because I wanted money and I had been waiting tables for 4 years at a breakfast joint.  I felt it was time to move somewhere that I could make “real” money.  The bar was fun, and I did make money.  The downside of that was that I got involved in a lifestyle that was dirty and too advanced for my age.  I tried to see myself as an equal to the patrons of the bar. But I was in high school, and these people had careers and spouses.  I didn’t fit in.  I also didn’t understand that seasoned drinkers have the ability to know which alcohol they can handle and how much of it is safe.  I, as a new drinker, lacked that ability.  I frequently left my tables to go behind the building and puke.  I would sometimes wake up in my bed and not remember how I got there.  I gave out my phone number, kissed people, went to after parties with strangers, drove through residential neighborhoods with enough alcohol to be poisoned. I was a disaster.   How could this happen?  Well, my parents didn’t know. I worked frequently and I was still in school danced on a team in my free time.  I wasn’t home and we didn’t talk unless it was about serious things like graduation and the like.  And, I saw the whole thing as an experience.  I laughed it off.  I didn’t take it seriously.  When we are young, we feel invincible.  When that is mixed with alcohol, life is more like a tango with the grim reaper.

On the left: High School Junior at a football game; On the Right: The Manhattan’s Cocktail Waitresses   

 When I started college, binge drinking ceased to be something I had to be embarrassed about.  It was what everyone did on the weekends.  I was especially popular since, throughout the four years in college, I worked as a bartender at a Middle Eastern restaurant, a cocktail waitress at an American bar, and a server with a “hook up” on drinks at a club.  I had an older boyfriend who always kept alcohol on hand.  Though I was so young and should have been focusing my energy on landing my dream career or getting impressive internships, I was so content with drinking nonstop and making money that I failed to realize all the opportunities I had been missing.

sorority

Just a casual Sunday in college. 

  I should not give the impression that I was a loser, however, because that is far from the truth.  While I did go out too much and drank over what would be considered healthy or normal, I also held several leadership positions and was a great influence on campus.  I was President of Student Government, Membership Vice President of my sorority, and President of Phi Alpha Delta Pre-Law Society.  In addition, I competed in Model Arab League and organized the competition on campus my senior year (that’s something like Model U.N., but with Arab States).  I also worked in a retail shop, a title office, and a NGO throughout my college years.  I went through two “serious” relationships (one ended because he asked me to marry him and I didn’t want that, and the other guy cheated on me, stole money from me, and was verbally abusive about my weight – I weighed 160). All the while, I was keeping it together on the surface, but I was absolutely drowning.  I was legally able to buy alcohol, so I didn’t have to sneak around anymore in bars and clubs. I began to pack on weight, my skin became dry and lost its youthfulness, and my self esteem was just plummeting.  Again, no one knew.  I lived alone, my friends were all binge drinkers and when I would get sick or be hungover, they would laugh about it.

model arab league

I’m on the right, looking very official.  Model Arab League Exec Meeting, 2007

     My best friend at the time, a gorgeous woman named Amanda, built my confidence a little bit by just being a companion.  But, she also unintentionally added to the problem.  She was beautiful with long blond hair and legs for days.  She was friends with all the beautiful men in our social group – she even lived with one of them.  She was thin, carefree, and smart – all the things I (thought I) wanted to be.  Anytime she wanted to go out, I was there.  I usually even offered to pay.  Something about being around people I felt were “better” or “cooler” than me made me drink twice as much as I normally would.  I wanted to fit in, but I didn’t have the confidence. Drinking gave that to me.  It made me happy and feel like I could be a part of this group.  The truth was, I was never really in it.  People knew me, but I didn’t have any friends there.  I was a laughing stock.  And I continued to be promiscuous, make horrible choices, go out to dumb places and spend money I didn’t have – all to make myself feel like I belonged.  This was a dark time, but not the worst.  That was yet to come.

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My idol, Amanda.

     Some of my biggest mistakes up to that point were cheating on my boyfriend, getting kicked out of a bar for underage drinking, being intimate with a professor, attempting solicitation, wrecking a car on an icy bridge, contracting a (curable) disease, screaming at friends or romantic interests in public, lying about my ethnicity and my history, and driving drunk repeatedly.  All of those things were tied to alcohol.  All of my dirtiest deeds and misfortunes occurred when I was under the influence of alcohol.  So, why didn’t I snap out of it?

The reason I continued is not that simple.  There are the obvious explanations:

  • I lack self-discipline;
  • I was addicted to alcohol;
  • I didn’t feel the consequences of my actions; and
  • It made me feel better.

And the not-so-obvious reasons:

  • My father was a heroin addict (as some research shows propensity for addiction may be genetic);
  • I had untreated depression and anxiety;
  • I felt a lot of pressure as the first person in my family to go to college;
  • We were always poor and rejected from many places when I was young and I never let go of that feeling;
  • My friends and my family (except my mom) always seemed to be drunk, so I didn’t understand the big deal; and
  • Despite continuing to drink, I was relatively successful.

The funny thing was, I didn’t consider myself to be an alcoholic during this period of my life.  I knew that I was a “binge drinker”, and I knew that alcohol had led me to some poor decisions, but alcoholics in my mind were people who could not go one day without drinking.  I wasn’t at that stage.  I had 2 or 3 days during the week when I didn’t have any alcohol.  I also didn’t normally keep alcohol at home, just drank when I went out.  All of that stuff to me meant that I was still in the clear.

Reflecting on it now, I have the same impression that I am sure you all do, “How the fuck do you look at that and not see alcoholism?”  I have shed many tears once I allowed that Pandora’s box to open, and I remembered all of the embarrassing moments I had as a drunk idiot.  But, for whatever reason, I never heeded advice when people told me to slow down.  I never considered it to be a problem since I had no real health risks, I had graduated from college, and I had never been arrested.  All of that was about to change, however, when I decided to go to law school.

 

To be continued. 

 

Well, at least I’m not broke.

Ah, finances. I truly view money as a necessary evil.  I’m not a materialistic person.  I want to be a millionaire not so I can ring a bell every time I want orange juice, but rather, so I can invest in other people’s businesses, start charity organizations, and be able to be an influential person (I know you can do this as a poor person, and probably more effectively…but I’m not a saint and hunger strikes don’t suit me).

All of those lofty goals are in the future.  Right now, in front of my face, is reality.  Thanks to law school and overall ignorance about money, I am somewhere near $200K in debt. You would think I am incredibly depressed and that it consumes me – but you would be wrong!  I am excited about the debt because paying it off is a project, and it has encouraged me to form a scholarship fund later in life. It also makes me want to publish a story or become a public speaker at local schools to warn kids about what can happen in college and encourage them to save.  I was unbelievably dumb, and I learned a lot about finances in the last couple of years – just in time to start paying for my mistakes.

I would rather not talk about my income, but here is where my money goes currently:

image001

I would encourage anyone who is currently not dead to make a chart like this.  I keep good track of my finances; however, seeing them in a chart like this really causes me to consider whether I am doing the right thing. Let’s talk specifics.

  1. Debt. The largest percentage of my income is going toward my debt.  I think this is a positive thing, because the longer I allow the debt to sit around, the more interest it collects.  Also, the quicker I pay off my debt, the more money I have available to pay on other things.  What I don’t know: Every month, my student loan debt interest exceeds the amount I am paying.  Each month, I am paying down interest, but not any principal. I desperately need to find out whether the Income Based Repayment Plan I am on includes Loan Forgiveness.  If it does – I am definitely going to pay the minimums!  If it doesn’t…I am going to continue to live very humbly and even downgrade a few things to get that bad boy paid off in 5 years.  My other debts include a couple credit cards (I had a brush in with the law a few years back, and it was expensive + I was broke).  I utilize the “snowball method,” which means that I throw all the extra money I can at the smallest debt I have while paying the minimum on all other debts.  Eventually, I pay off those small debts one by one, and use what I would be paying on the small debt monthly contributions to chisel away at the larger debts on my list.  The snowball method has gotten one card completely paid off, one is at 35% utilization, and my big daddy card is at 60% utilization. I also have some things that are not collecting interest, so I continue to make the minimum payments there; but will throw extra cash at them once my cards are paid.snowball
  2. Savings.  Because this chart illustrates my take-home pay, the contributions I make to my IRA (6% of my salary, plus 50% employer contribution) are not included here.  Realistically, I am saving closer to 20% of my salary with that factored in.  I think that is a pretty decent percentage.  Currently, I have $4,700 in savings, and my goal is to increase that to $15,000 before making any serious moves (like buying a franchise, quitting my full time job, etc.).  My savings balance isn’t the worst – but considering I started saving in 2016, I am off to a good start.
  3. Groceries. I don’t eat out much, but my groceries are still out of control.  I LOVE to cook. I live for it.  In my house, a week’s menu may include 4-5 exotic dishes, 2 full gourmet breakfasts, homemade “junk” food, and various other snacks and (occasionally) convenience food.  I don’t know how to save money here.  Help me.  😦
  4. Bad Habits. I promise I’m not buying heroin, but I do occasionally enjoy wine and we have hookah.  I know like I know like I know I need to stop smoking, especially since it is becoming a bit of a problem (e.g. I don’t like to admit how much I smoke it,  sometimes I smoke when I don’t even really want it, etc.).  I have been smoking it socially for over 10 years.  I got my own during law school and used it as a release; and it started becoming a full on addiction about 3 years ago.  I don’t have much else to say.  I know I need to stop, but I know that in the abstract.  So far, I don’t have a compelling reason to besides my (future) health.  Isn’t it crazy that it isn’t enough?  Maybe I should go to therapy or get an accountabili-buddy.shisha
  5. Other. The only other things that are a little ridiculous are mindless spending (Groupon, gourmet food for my animals, subscriptions, etc.).  Cutting these out would save me about $200 a month ($2,400 a year).  Is it bad that I don’t care that much?  I am making a great amount of money, and my partner is as well. We enjoy ourselves, but we also aggressively save.  Besides my debt, what would I spend this on? Oh yeah…
  6. Charity.  Missing from the chart above is CHARITY.  For someone who thinks about animals and those less fortunate more than I think about myself, why am I not donating? Next on the agenda is to decide where I can cut out $100 a month to make a difference.

My long term financial goals are, of course, to get out of debt, start a business, and be able to start my own non-profit.  I don’t have kids yet.  If that happens, naturally my goals will shift to accommodate children’s clothing, college funds, etc.  We’ll worry about that when we get there.

How does this budget look?  Are there things I should change/do differently?  What do you do to cut corners?

 

 

“The List” (dun dun DUNNNN)

This blog was created for the purpose of achieving goals.  I have several.  They range from small to colossal, and the effort, finance, and self-gratification that will follow achieving any of these goals will also range form minuscule to mammoth.  But, before I start to work on the goals floating around in my head, I need to get them in print (that is, somewhere besides one of the countless pages of the hundreds of journals and stationary I keep around the house).  I hope to periodically update this list and include an “achieved” section as well as time goes on.  But here you have it folks, the very first version.

Lifetime Goals

(work on these will be broken down into smaller goals over time):

  1. Write a book
  2. Work for the U.N. (or another equally impressive international organization)
  3. Travel the World
  4. Open a no-kill cat sanctuary
  5. Own a cafe
  6. Be a professor
  7. Be extremely fit
  8. Be on television (like, once is ok. I don’t need a sitcom)
  9. Become a millionaire
  10. NOT have a desk job
  11. Be extremely happy
  12. Coach other people to success
  13. Have a second chance program for homeless and addicts in my community
  14. Have a shelter for trafficking victims
  15. Speak fluent Arabic
  16. Be a lawyer (for a period of time, not as a career)

Baby Goals:

(Total list should be completed by April 15, 2016)

  1. Find a place to volunteer related to animals or international affairs (and follow through)
  2. Have an awesome patio
  3. Get my apartment super organized
  4. Research the U.N. and get in contact with someone to introduce myself and express my intentions
  5. Lose 10 pounds
  6. Become a cat sitter 🙂
  7. Pick ONE side hustle (no action needed, just pick one)
  8. Learn to fold a fitted sheet
  9. Prepare a schedule and follow it for one full week

Medium Goals: 

(Total list should be completed by August 1, 2016)

  1. Pay off my credit cards
  2. Pay my other expenses (more on that later)
  3. Have an independent investment account
  4. Have $15,000 in savings
  5. Lose 25 pounds
  6. Learn to read and write Arabic
  7. Get part 1 of my book completed
  8. Make $3,000 in income from side jobs/miscellaneous (anything not coming from my primary full time job counts)

Big Goals:

(List should be completed by year-end 2016):

  1. Lose 50 pounds
  2. Finish my book and self-publish it
  3. Make a comprehensive life goal list/plan (with details and deadlines)
  4. Have a little business, no matter how small it is – something that is registered and real

Current Progress/Achievement List (as of 3/9/2016)

Baby Goals:

Number 6 – I posted an ad on Craigslist to advertise my services as a cat sitter.  I’m not counting this goal as complete until I have an actual client. In addition, I requested franchise information from Fetch.com, a national, established company that offers a more standardized approach to pet care.  It is $15,000, so I’m not ready to open the franchise yet; but I’m keeping it very close in mind.

Medium Goals:

Number 1 – I have one credit card completely paid off.  The second one is going to be paid off by the beginning of next month.  The last one (which is the largest debt and currently only getting minimum payments) is going to be tackled beginning next month and paid off by August.

Number 4 – I have $4,600 in savings.  That isn’t a lot, but considering the fact that I started saving this year, it’s not half bad. There is a slight chance I will have to deplete my savings next month; but I am hoping that doesn’t occur.

Number 7 – I have an outline complete and I have completed a few chapters.  Part one includes all the time that my character is still in the United States.  Once I finish that, I will consider this goal complete.

Big Goals:

Not much going on here yet.  For my business, I am considering some options…but really thinking about starting a publishing company.

Well, that’s all folks.  I have gotten pretty excited writing this, and I hope you are excited for me too.  I really love planning, let’s see how I do following through. Ciao!