What if No One's Watching?

As I mentioned, we're looking for a place to live in Virginia, with the intent of moving there at the end of the summer (likely in late August). Before we actually started looking, Mark and I both had a romantic notion of living outside the cities and suburbs, in horse country, maybe on a few acres. I imagined having space for lots of rescue dogs. I imagined quiet and solitude. I imagined a stream, and maybe a barn. I neglected to consider the impact of all that solitude on my work-at-home self. Or ony having one car. Or the million or so things that totally blow about living out in the country, like lousy Internet service and long commutes. But when I actually went and visited the area, these things all sprang back to mind.

And so, it seems quite likely that we're headed for the suburbs. I grew up in the country and have lived in a city since then. I've never lived in a suburb. In fact, I've spent a good part of the last decade or so making merciless fun of suburbs. Places where you can't walk or bus anywhere. Places with houses all built the same, with lots of rules, with no real trees and cardboard neighbors. Edward Scissorhands land. Why would anyone want to live there?

Turns out there are reasons. Long drives every day to work suck. Space is nice to have. My dogs need a yard, and I'd like a bathtub. It's a difficult thing for my trying-to-be-hip self to say, but there are benefits to living somewhere with sidewalks and "safe streets." I'm still not thrilled about the idea of moving into one of a hundred houses that look just the same, or having someone come down on me if I put something they don't like in my lawn, or having to get in the car to get coffee/go to the library/whatever. But I do understand the reasons a bit better now, having compared what is available in the 'burbs to the city and country options.

This is yet another one of those weird growing up things. Just like I never expected to work at a desk from 9-5, or wear makeup every day, or pay someone to paint my house, I never expected to live in a much too-big house in a suburb. Just like I pictured exciting, important jobs and cutting edge clothes and a do-it-myself life, I pictured either rural simplicity or the excitement of a city. I was never going to be halfway anywhere, I was never going to let people tell me what to do. And suburbs are the epitome of halfway.

It never ceases to amaze me just how much things change. It seems like almost every day right now it's something else. What's next? Once we are installed in our multi-bedroom sububan home, a couple of proper DINKS, then what? A baby? A SUV? A subscription to Rachael Ray's magazine? Where will it end?

Back when I had that contest to ask for blogging ideas, Jill wrote:

I'm with Julia: more about your dogs. I'd like to know how you introduce rescues to your permanent pets, do you walk all of them?, do you do anything (obedience, etc.) to make the fosters more adoptable...that type of thing.

Those are good questions. I'm afraid my answers aren't going to be that enlightening, though. I'm not really a great dog advice person. I've been around a lot of dogs now, and done quite a bit of work, but I don't have a real philosophy or guidelines or anything. For a real dog expert, I highly recommend checking out Joanna's blog. That woman knows her shit.

Me, I just sorta do what works.

The whole dog rescue journey started quite by mistake. Mark and I adopted our first dog, Chance, from a rescue in 2003. In retrospect, adopting Chance was a big mistake. I wouldn't change a thing, of course, but we went in pretty blind. You should NOT choose a totally untrained 120 lb Rott-Anatolian cross to be your first dog. But we did, and we loved him from the beginning. Which is good, because if we'd loved him any less, he'd have ended up being put down. Chance was aggresisve. Aggressive enough that he was dangerous. We spent a whole lot of time and money fixing that issue, which the help of a really high quality trainer. Those training sessions (and there were a lot of them) are pretty much the sum total of my dog training expertise. And much of what was suggested for Chance, particularly regarding establishing dominance, I don't bother with when relating to my current dogs. Chance needed it. They don't.

About a year after we adopted Chance, we found ourselves fostering seven five-week old Lab mix puppies. The how and why of that is a long story, which you can read here if you are interested. By that time, Chance was pretty mellow (well, all things considered). But seven five-week old puppies is a lot by anybody's standards, and we were completely unprepared. It was, as well as being one of the most rewarding experiences of my life, hell on Earth. Weeks of cleaning up after them, running after them, not getting any sleep, worrying about them...but they all lived to be happy, healthy dogs, and we found homes for all of them. It was expensive, it was frustrating, and it was amazing.

After that, we just knew we could do it. We didn't actually do any more rescue for a while, as we weren't quite sure how Chance would react to having another adult dog in the house (he loved the puppies), plus we were in a rental, but the seed had been planted.

Then we bought our house, and Chance died. We adopted Leo, and when we went to pick him up from the rural rescue where he was living, I fell in love with the idea of having land and being able to rescue large scale. We didn't take any more fosters for a bit, though, as we wanted to give, Leo, who turned out to be elderly and have some health issues, time to adjust. Then we met and unexpectedly fell in love with Ata, and so we had two dogs. They got on so well together, we figured it was time to take the plunge.

Our first intentional foster was Bridget, the Anatolian Shepherd. We had Bridget for about six months. She was not an easy dog. Unlike Ata, Bridget was a very typical Anatolian--very standoffish and difficult to get attached to. Plus, we learned about the difficulty of walking three dogs who are all 90 lbs+. But we kept at it, and she came out of her shell. She never really fit in as part of our pack, but she was safe and healthy with us, and we eventually were able to find her a great home.

The bug had bitten us by then. We started looking more seriously for a rescue with whom we would like to work. And, a bit later, we hooked up with Hound Rescue. Neither of us had any particular hound-love, but I heard or saw a call for fosters from them somewhere, and called on a lark. I liked the person who got back to me so much that we decided to give hounds a try, with the specification that we wanted bigger hounds, not the beagles the rescue specializes in, since they'd surely be yappy and annoying.

Our first HR foster was Friday, who was an absolute nightmare. He was a basset hound/fox hound mix. When we first got him, he was sick with kennel cough and seemed very mellow. The healthier he got, the worse he was. He was destructive, he howled non-stop, and he refused to be housetrained. It was such a headache! He clearly knew he was supposed to go outside to go to the bathroom, but he would get mad at you and look straight at you and pee on the floor. We made him wear a doggie diaper. He peed in it, then peed through it. We checked for a health issue. The issue was determined to be behavioral. We pulled our hair out.

And then Friday got adopted, and we learned from his new owner that he never peed in the house. We realized it was us, or our other dogs, or our house. Sometimes dogs are good matches for your family and sometimes they aren't. You do the best you can. The thing we learned from Friday was that the key to being succesful in rescue is support. We had lots of people to talk about our issues with, they made suggestions, they offered supplies, and when it became clear Friday just wasn't going to work out at our house, they offered to house him elsewhere (which ended up not being necessary). Even though our experience with Friday hadn't been great, our experience with the rescue was, so we went on to foster through them again as soon as Friday was adopted out.

And since then, we've fostered, by my count, 10 dogs through Hound Rescue. Four beagles; three beagle mixes; two larger hound mixes; and a bloodhound. One of the mixes was a puppy. The bloodhound was a disaster and did have to go to another home (suddenly, it became clear just what it means for a house to be too small for a dog). Three of them I would have kept in a heartbeat. Two of them had fairly major medical issues. Nearly all of them had ear infections, mange, fleas, or all three. All of them taught me something. And, most importantly, all of them had a home with us, and now have homes with other loving families (well, aside from Huey, but he will).

I've never done anything else that has filled me with such a sense of wonder as dog rescue. These animals NEED us, and they give us so much for what amounts to so little. But it's not always easy. I've had to learn to be more patient, for sure, and deal with more extreme nastiness than I ever could have guessed (there is seriously nothing grosser than seven puppies being dewormed). It's been hard on my permanent animals, particularly the cats. It's been hard to let them go. It's been hard to keep them.

My major piece of advice for anyone considering doing rescue is to focus not on the type of dog you want to foster, but on the organization with whom you are going to work. The support you are offered by the organization makes ALL the difference. It turns out that we love beagles, and I can't imagine not having more of them in my lifetime, but I doubt we'll foster beagles in Virginia, unless we happen to find another fantastic hound rescue. It's generally harder to find fosters for larger breed dogs, and we're comfortable with the big guys, so we'll likely look in that direction. Also, since I am going to work from home, we're open to puppies again, which we haven't been. Mostly, though, what we're going to look for is an organization that supports its fosters, provides resources, and never makes you feel like you should do more than you can. We've found that here, and we never would have gotten this far into rescue without it. I very much hope we can find it there, too.

Remember when Huey got his head stuck in the cat box lid?

Well, apparently, it's not just the cat boxes he gets in too far with. He's into their toys, too.

Home is where the heart is
Ain't that what they always say
My heart lies in broken pieces
Scattered along the way
-Steve Earle

When I left Oregon, I was too stupid to know I was going to miss it. Not just miss it, but hurt for it. I was so excited about my plans and being somewhere else and getting out and seeing things that I neglected to realize that there was nothing I could see that was ever going to compare with growing up in the Umpqua Valley or coming of age in Mt. Hood's backyard. I knew I loved my family, but I had no idea what the real difference was between being a three hour drive away and being a five hour flight away.

It didn't take too long away for me to figure it out. I've spent the majority of my twenties--the time I've been away from home--trying to see a way back.

And now I'm almost thirty, and I'm moving in the wrong direction. Only this time, there is no happy ignorance. I know both that I am moving farther away from home and that I'm leaving the surrogate so carefully constructed in Austin. I spent today driving a rental car all over Northern Virginia, checking out houses and neighborhoods and noting the locations of grocery stores and the traffic patterns. Researching. Making plans. Plans to uproot myself again.

The truth is that it breaks my heart to realize I am going to miss Austin. I miss Oregon so much I didn't think I could miss anywhere else, but just like the number of people for whom I am homesick keeps on increasing, apparently the places for which I am homesick will as well.

I guess this is just how it is. Your whole life is, in some way, about leaving. And I am supposed to be getting better at it as I get older. Instead, the older I get, the more people and places I miss, and the more I resent the whole situation. The more I don't want to meet new people, or integrate into a new place, because they'll eventually leave my life as well. Whatever excitement I can muster for the new stuff, it doesn't hold a candle to the nostalgia towards the old.

And, more than anything else, I still just want to go home. It doesn't help in the least that it continually becomes a more complicated question just where that is.

Back in college and just after, in my hippier and less materalistic days, I used to like this song by T.R. Kelley called "Downwardly Mobile" (aka Government Cheez)." I can't remember all the lyrics now, but one refrain was, "you gotta pay somebody money to do things you ain't got time to do because you are too busy earning money." It repeated several times over to reinforce the circular logic. The song was all about living a low budget life that focused on valuing time over money. Another lyric said that "time is the one thing you can't buy back." At the time, I found that to be wise advise--do something you love, take off as much time as possible, live low on the food chain, reduce, reuse, etc. I never romanticized poverty the way some of my peers did--I grew up in it, so I had a better idea of the realities than most people--but I never intended to be wealthy, either, and I certainly didn't intend to be a big consumer.

The me of ten years ago would definitely scoff at the today's me--her makeup, her fancy bath products, her mortgage and car loan, and especially her very straight desk job. This was not what my younger self had in mind for us, for sure. So what happened?

A lot of things, I'm sure, but the biggest single one? I started making money. Unexpectedly, mid-grad school, I got a job that paid twice as much as the highest paying job I'd ever had before. So we bought a house. And a new car. And my lifestyle, without me much noticing, changed to accomodate my income. I'd been on my way to a class change since college, based on my educatio, but when I actually started having the income to match, it was complete. I took my place, unwittingly, maybe, but fully, in the American middle class.

The extent to which this has happened has been driven home this week, as Mark and I have been deciding who to hire to work on our house. We aren't just hiring someone to do the work we aren't qualified to do, like some electrical repair and intalling carpet, but to do the work we are, like cleaning up the landscape and painting. We're not hiring expertise; we're hiring labor. We're paying someone else to do something we could do ourselves, and it is a better economic argument for us to do so, as our labor (mine, in particular) is worth far more per hour than the labor of our painters and landscapers.

Just typing that makes my heart hurt. Ladies and gentlemen, I have become The Man.

It is information I'm not quite sure what to do with. On one hand, I am glad I'm not painting and landscaping in 100+ heat. And I recognize that I have put quite a bit of time and money into developing the skill set that allows my labor to be worth enough that hiring someone to do those things for me is feasible. But I also recognize that my time and money aren't the only reasons I'm here and not painting or weeding--it also has to do with luck. The luck of being born white and an American citizen. The luck of being born into a supportive family. The luck of being born without physical or cognitive obstacles to overcome. None of those things have anything to do with my effort. None of those are things I "deserve," they are just things I got. Given that, how can it possibly be right for me to make more sitting at a desk than the men who are sweating at my house are making from me?

I just got into an interesting discussion with someone who said, among other things, that she had no idea what percentage of her taxes paid for what services or programs. I was sort of shocked by this at first, but then got to thinking about it, and a lot of people probably don't know that (or they have major misconceptions about it). Due to the nature of my graduate degree and some of the jobs I've had, I actually have a pretty fair idea, and, more importantly, I know where/how to find that information, but I haven't really thought too much about it in recent years (being away from school and those jobs). So, I thought maybe it would make interesting blog fodder?

So, a tutorial. If you want to know how much you personally are paying to fund what, here is what you need to do.

Step 1: Determine your tax burden.
First, you need to know how much of your earnings you are paying to the federal government (for the sake of simplicity, we're going to keep this example all federal). You can find this on your tax return. I'll be the example:

As per my 2008 tax return, I paid $4,153 in federal income tax in 2008.

However, the federal government does have other sources of revenue. Personal income taxes only account for about half of total government income. The rest is made up of Social Security payments, payroll taxes, corporate income tax, excise tax, customs duties, estate taxes, etc. If you are like me, the only one of those that applies to you personally is Social Security, and you can get your paid in amount for that off your W-2.

As per my 2008 W-2, I paid $3,373.22 in Social Security withholding in 2008.

Finally, I also paid Medicare tax, which is separate from both income tax and Social Security. This is on the W-2 as well.

As per my 2008 W-2, I paid $788.90 in Medicare tax in 2008.

So, my total personal contribution to the 2008 federal government spending was $8,315.12. For the sake of whole numbers, we'll skip the $.12 and round to $8,315.

Step 2: Determine federal budget.
This is where things get trickier. Federal budgeting and federal spending are not the same thing, any more than your budget and you're spending are (or mine, anyway). A budget is what is planned to spend, not what is spent. That being said, if you are, like I am, looking at the last full year, you are likely to find more solid numbers for budgeting than for spending--it's easier to get your arms around. And, for the purposes a getting a general idea of where your money is going, it will work. So, we need to find the 2008 Federal Budget. The best place to do that, for my money, is the source itself--the GPO Access website. But, as you'd imagine, the federal budget is not exactly a simple document to navigate, and what we want is a simple breakdown. Luckily, someone has already provided that over at the lazy Internet sleuth's friend, Wikipedia.

(Pie chart courtesy of Skiddum, used with permission.)

Step 3: Do the math.
From here, it's simple math. Multiply the percentage of federal budget dollars spent in each category by the total you paid in. For me, it works out like this:

Social Security (21%): $1,746.15
Department of Defense (16.6%): $1,380.29
Medicare (13.3%): $1,105.90
Unemployment/welfare/other mandatory spending (11.2%): $931.28
Interest on the national debt (9%): $748.35
Medicaid and SCHIP (7.2%): $598.68
Global War on Terror (5%): $415.75
Health and Human Services (2.4%): $199.56
Department of Education (1.9%): $157.99
Other on-budget discretionary spending (1.8%): $149.67
Department of Veteran's Affairs (1.4%): $116.41
Other off-budget discretionary spending (1.3%): $108.10
Department of Housing and Urban Development (1.2%): $99.78
Department of Homeland Security (1.2%): $99.78
Energy (0.8%): $66.52
Department of Justice (0.7%): $58.21
Department of Agriculture (0.7%): $58.21
NASA (0.6%): $49.89
Department of Transportation (0.4%): $33.26
Department of Treasury (0.4%) $33.26
Department of the Interior (0.4%): $33.26
Department of Labor (0.4%): $33.26

Obviously, these numbers are only as helpful as you understand what each category represents. And there are some pretty big things left out. For example, the Iraq and Afghanistan Wars aren't funded through the budget, they are funded through special appropriations. So the $1,380.29 I gave the DoD last year? That's without my contribution to those wars.

Government budgeting is an extraordinarily (and maybe unnecessarily) complicated process. These estimates are very, very rough. Given time and resources, I could come up with better ones, but those would be rough too. However, even given its flaws, I this is a worthwhile exercise to get an idea of how much of your personal money goes where. For example, I'm not surprised by the amounts going to DoD and Social Security and the "War on Terror," but I had no idea I was paying $750 a year towards national debt interest, or only $160 on education. However rough they may be, those are enlightening (and horrifying) numbers.

It is midweek, right? Well, close enough.

I really will blog about some of the other issues you wonderful readers suggested, but not until I have time and thought to spare. Which could, at this point, be months. In the meantime, it is easy to blog about makeup. Makeup is very, very simple.

So let me tell you about a product I love. The eye crayon. It's like a pencil eyeliner, only bigger and softer. It goes on like a thick eyeliner, but looks sort of somewhere in between liner and shadow. And it's my favorite eye product. If I am in a hurry, I can just color over my top lash line and be done, no need for shadow or anything. If I have a bit more time, I pair it with shadow and love the look even more. It's very natural, not a harsh line like a lot of eyeliner can be.

My love for the eye crayon started with picking up a couple of Jane Colorsticks Eye Crayons on super-sale at Walgreen's (I think they were $.99 or something). Even when not on sale, these are cheap--only about $4 each. I've tried the Mercury Rising, which is a grayish purple, and the Oh Yes, which is a silvery green, and liked both. The only downside I found with these was that they didn't last all day.

In hopes of finding something more long-lasting, I then tried a high end version: Lorac's Sparkle Pencil Shadow/Liner. At $16, this is a much more expensive option than the Jane crayons, and it only comes in Midnight Sparkle (black with silver sparkle) and Blue Topaz (blue with silver sparkle). I bought the Midnight Sparkle. It goes on the same way as the Jane product, and it does last longer, but I'm not a fan of the glitter or the black for everyday use. I'm holding on to the Lorac crayon, but it's a dress-up event type of product, and at $16, I wouldn't buy another one.

Knowing that what I really wanted was a longer-lasting version of the Jane product that comes in a range of colors, without glitter, I saw Sephora's version on a trip to Sephora for something else, and hit the jackpot. The Sephora Brand Jumbo Pencil is the perfect eye crayon. At $6 each, they only cost a bit more than the Jane version, they are long lasting (especially over eye primer), and they come in great colors. I started with the violet, which I love, but I'm expecting the gray and the beige in the mail soon. Don't be turned off by the boring names--the violet is almost exactly the same color as Jane's Mercury Rising, beige is really champagne, etc.

There are some more eye crayons I'd like to try. If I could learn to love the glittery look a bit more, I think Pop Beauty's Glitter Stix would be fun. Nars Glitter Pencil is expensive ($24), but comes in great colors. On the bargain front, Rimmel's Exaggerate Eye Crayon looks promising--it's less than $4 and has fun, glitter-less colors. There is also Maybelline's version,the Cool Effects Cooling Shadow Liner, which has fantastic colors (I love the Cold Front and the Cool as Cucumber) and retails for about the same price as the Sephora version. Finally, I'm interested in the version by Pixi Beauty (which sells at Target). I'm not sure how much they are, but they have awesome bright colors I haven't seen elsewhere.

I recommend these, especially for those who have trouble applying regular eyeliner or don't like the harsh look. But go with a cheaper one--the Jane or the Sephora--this is one area where so far I see no need to spend a lot of extra cash.

What's going on at my house?

Let Atticus give you a hint:

Yep. We're packing. It's part of a a multi-step pack-renovate-pack-show-pack-sell-pack-move process.

Why yes, I AM in hell!

I don't think of myself as being overly attached to my stuff, but I realized today, when faced with not seeing my craft supplies until September, that I am. And I am putting off packing up all of the non-necessities in my bathroom. Two months plus with no changes in soap??

Seriously. I'm going to try to keep blogging regularly (my laptop, needless to say, will not be packed until the very last moment), but things are getting extremely hectic around here, so if there is some radio silence, it's probably because I'm up to my ears in boxes and tape.

Pity me.

First, a question: how far back to you have to trace something for the sake of blog etiquette? For example, the thing I am about to post was made known to me when it was Google Reader shared by my friend Jenny, who shared this post from ennui will rock you (best blog name ever!), who in turn picked it up from this post on Humble Cuisine. I can't tell where they got it, because their site isn't working correctly on my browser. Now, did I need to tell you all that? If not, should I have stopped with Jenny? With ennui will rock you?

Getting on to the subject at hand:

You in? I'm going to give this a try this weekend. I'm shooting for stores that aren't just in my city, but in my neighborhood. I'll report back.

Sorry about the delay--I just remembered I needed to pick my winner for this.

Only ended up with 15 comments, so your odds aren't bad. And the winner, as per Random Integer Generator, is...

TWO!!

That would be this comment:

I'd love for you to get back to blogging your vintage something Thursdays if possible. Would also love to hear more about the loved animals.

Posted by El | June 10, 2009 2:40 PM

El, you are a winner! I'll be getting a super deluxe Little Black Box in the mail to you soon!

Everyone else, thanks for playing!