UPDATE: I just did Number 15 and bought the coffee of the person in line behind me.  It was weird, but more so when that person followed me down the road for a few miles staring in my window.  I just waved.

Number 9, take time to  learn about something I know nothing about, was hard for me.  Right now, I’m learning so much as it is, that taking the time to learn about something random doesn’t seem to make sense.  Not when I could be doing homework, or studying, or researching. But that’s not really the way I should think, or at least not the way I want to think.  I want to look for opportunities to learn. I want to be open to learning, and not pass up any chance.  Even if something seems odd or pointless or like there is no means to an end, I want to take the time to learn.

And then I picked up the nearest National Geographic and read all about Stonehenge.  I kid you not.

This will either prove the very big nerd or the very boring person I am, but this was really interesting. I’ve forgotten how fun it can be to read something for the sake of reading it. Knowing something you didn’t know before is a great feeling. I was close to forgetting that.

Article: If the Stone Could Speak, National Geographic, June 2008

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Number 5 on my 29 in 29 for 29 list was something I had to think about for a while.  Like most people, when I donate my money, I do it for my own reasons. Donating to a cause in someone else’s name is something I really wanted to take some time doing. Then, a few days ago, I listened to a message from my nephew. Hearing his little two-year-old voice ramble on for several minutes did to me what it always does, and I pretty much melt for how adorable it is. Every time I see him or talk to him, I’m reminded how lucky I am to have such a sweet, happy, healthy kid in my life.

Which is why Number 5 turned out to be a donation to the Children’s Hospital in my nephew’s name.  For all the fortune of a happy, healthy child, there are also so very many children who don’t have that. That’s what I think of when I think of the healthy kids in my life and how, though they didn’t choose it, there are sick kids who need someone thinking of them.  Rooting for them. Trying for them.

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Last month I was walking my dog on a local trail when we crossed paths with a few other dogs and their owner.  I wish I had a photo, but you’ll just have to trust me when I say these were three very cute puppies. They were Labradoodles, and though I am doing my best right now to not go off on a tangent regarding my feelings about designer dog breeding, it’s important for me to say what these dogs were.  These three dogs came from a puppy mill rescue organization. And if you’ve never heard of a puppy mill, please leave here now and take the time to google.  You will be shocked with what you find, even if you’ve heard of it before.

Up until that day, I didn’t know we had a local organization that rescued these dogs. It took about five minutes for me to decide that I wanted to know more about them, and to help them in some way.  It turns out that they work really, really hard, have a lot of trouble keeping funding for their operation, and are genuinely dedicated people. None of this is a surprise, but just like Stonehenge above, I now knew about something.  Once you know, you cannot not know. Similar to helping children, I also believe the same principle applies in that there are beings in this world that cannot help themselves. And I strongly believe that when it’s all said and done, the compassion with which we treat the helpless among us is directly corralated to our own worth.

All of that may seem very “deep” but it is honestly how I feel and I could not hide that if I tried.  So, after a few calls (it pays to have worked with veterinarians and pet care professionals earlier in my life) I had the means to donate over 100 pounds of puppy food to the puppy mill rescue organization. Number 24, donate food to a shelter.

If anyone is interested in helping this or a rescue organization in your area, please email me or leave a comment. I can easily get you in touch with someone.

(Note: Just to avoid the emails insulting me for thinking of animals before people, I also participated in a food drive through my employer this month in which my department alone contributed nearly 4,000 pounds of food to our local food bank. It’s possible to do both. Relax.)

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This has all put me in such a good mood, I am now ready for Number 4, leave anonymous happy notes.  Let’s hope I don’t set off any alarms. Or worse, get caught being so cheerful and therefore lose my hard-core reputation.

As I type this I am full and nearly falling asleep after a weekend complete with sunshine, food, friendship and more laughter than should ever be allowed. It is no secret that it’s wise to spend time with people that understand you most when things are getting a little heavy. The reality, for me, is that I’ve got more of these people in my life than I deserve.

One of my very best running friends came all the way from Iowa this weekend to not run a race.  Injured a few weeks ago, she had no obligation to come and, yet, she did. She wasn’t embarrassed when I wore my pirate scarf around town.  She wasn’t embarrassed when I had to stop to take photos of everything. She stood right by my side when I impersonated Stewart, unknowingly in front of a group of strangers.  (”Stewart, how was your race today? I don’t wanna saaayyy.”  You can imagine.) She didn’t walk away or even so much as shake her head when I explained to a complete stranger at Starbucks on Monday morning why it was ok that the Red Sox lost the way they did because I was, of course, disappointed but did not have to be embarassed (there is a huge difference there, obviously). And she was right there as I attempted to complete more of my 29 in 29 for 29 list, no questions asked.

Like Number 14- Try to stand on my head:

Well, hands anyway.

This was after I got free advice from two passers-by.  One was, of all things, a yoga instructor and, therefore, demonstrated how “easy” it was. (Ha, not quite, Mr. Skinny, bendy man.)  The other, though very buff and sporting awesome dreads, only spoke French.  He was very kind and careful to give me instructions, but I could not understand a word of them.  After they stepped back, the resourceful part of my brain kicked in and I was able to come up with the best I could do.  They did applaud me, which was more liberating than in probably should have been.  And the yoga instructor then leaned over to me and whispered in my ear—I kid you not— “see, you are capable of more than you think you are.” I couldn’t have made that scene up if I’d tried.

And Number 28- Test drive a car I cannot afford:

Well, I was actually just allowed to sit in it and start it.  And, in theory, there is a chance I could afford it (not in my opinion, though).  But this is as close as I’m probably going to get at this point. Works for me.

And, I learned how to shake a cocktail (Number 11):

And here’s how that went down:  We were at a restaurant between lunch and dinner, and it was a slow time.  So asked the bartender if he could teach me how to make a drink.  He asked what drink, we were at a Mexican restaurant, so I said a margarita. I’m terribly original, I know.  So my friend picked up her camera to take pictures, which have not yet made it to me.  So the above is the final product.  I salted the rim myself.  No need to applaud, just send tequila.

It’s safe to say that after a few of those, we giggled like a bunch of kids well into the evening, piling into a king-sized bed with ice cream and baseball.  I think that qualifies as Number 16: Have a sleepover with my girlfriends. And it certainly felt every bit the sleepover it was.  Especially when we awoke the next morning in the hotel bed, stomachs still sore from laughter, to look up to the sun streaming in the window only to see this:

Let me tell you, the kind of panic that ensued in those brief moments between realizing there were men outside our window and that we were in pajamas?  Not my finest moments, nor my finest use of the English language.  But you tell me you would have been different.

All weekend we trekked up and down the front range, making a scene whenever and where ever possible (sometimes not even intentionally), and I’ll never forget any part of it.  Sure, I ate too much, I laughed too hard, and I’m going to have no chance to recover from the weekend before throwing myself into this week. (Which is all likely to make me feel older than any birthday could.) But if this what looking forward looks like, then bring it on.

There’s this gas station I always stop by— mostly on weekends.  Usually it’s for a caffeine fix in the form of Diet Pepsi, but now that I’ve stopped drinking it, I’m not sure I’ll be in there a lot. I love going into this gas station, though, because everyone working there is always in such a good mood.  They are just so nice, plesant, kind, and good to be around in general.

I realize this sounds odd, talking about gas station clerks this way, because I really don’t know them. All I really have to go on is the three minutes I’ve spent walking in or out and the small conversations I have with them or over hear.  But they’re always smiling, they’re always talking with each other.  The ladies call one another “honey.” They are laid-back people, and most of the time they seem to be having fun. I don’t have to tell anyone that many work places aren’t like this.

So the last time I was in the gas station (maybe when I bought that lottery ticket?) I told them how nice it was to come in there.  I told them that they always seemed very content and that it must be nice to be in that environment. “You should be proud of that,” I said, “it doesn’t happen often.”  They agreed, they liked their job and their coworkers.

I don’t know what made me do that. I happen to really like most of my coworkers, and more so than I have in almost any job I’ve had in fifteen years. There was just something about walking into that gas station that reminded me of how rare that is.  I couldn’t help but compliment them on that, which happens to be Number 19 in the 29 in 29 for 29 list.

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My best friend from childhood had her first baby about six months ago.  They are far away, in another country, and it’s about killing me that I haven’t seen her or met her baby yet. We talk, not as often as I’d like, and I keep up with their personal blog watching videos of all kinds of firsts.  I tear up every time, because I remember when this girl and I were teased on the play ground, and the trouble we’d get ourselves into defending each other.

Now her baby is six months old and since I can’t be there, I’ve been sending unexpected gifts every month or more to let her know I’m thinking of her. (Sidebar: If you  have a pregnant and/or about-to-deliver-and-nurse-her-baby friend or relative, an Aimee gown is likely to go over very well.)

I want a way to be there, even if I can’t.

This month, I’m pretty sure the baby that’s not staying a baby for long is going to start getting teeth.  While I’d like to just send my friend a bottle of whiskey (as a joke!), I don’t think that would make it through customs.  So hopefully this little collection will help the little one during teething:

And maybe I’ll still try to figure out a way to get her some booze.  Because from what I know, she is likely to need it just as much during teething time.

(Number 10)

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I’ll be taking off for the weekend to spend some time with some girlfriends.  We were all originally going to race this weekend—marathons and half marathons— but the universe had other plans for all of us. One stricken with a stress fracture, another with knee surgery, and, well, we all  know my story.  So instead we’re just going to hang out, go out, and see if I can’t get more things crossed off this list.

Thanks to all who’ve emailed or commented on these posts.  The kind words and enthusiasm mean so much more than I could explain. I’m having a great time sharing it.

When I come home in the afternoon, most days I can count on waving to my neighbors.  There’s Pauline, who’s outlived two husbands.  There’s Laura, who has a dog that just may be older than all of us.  There’s Rick, who lets me know if the mail has come if we pass in the road. And there’s Leta, who, if you ask, will let you know about everything else.

I live in a neighborhood of old folks. Folks who keep a look out. Folks who could teach us a thing or two. It’s really nice.  They’re just nosy enough, and aside from the time Pauline tried to set me up with the Jeep-driving (good) pot-smoking (maybe not-so-good) renter four doors down, I have never had a disagreement with any of them.  They’ve become the family that’s watching over me without my even knowing.

When I think about that, having all these substitute grandparents, it does warm my heart. It does make me feel lucky.  Mostly, it makes me think of my grandma. So when I thought about who I’d spend the afternoon with for Number 18, I really didn’t have to think at all. I don’t know if that’s what those who suggested this had in mind, but it sure worked out better than I could have dreamed.

For several years, my grandma and I have talked about taking a day to sit down and go through some of her photos.  She has hundreds of them, most not labeled.

Little did I know, that by going through these, asking where they were taken, and who was in them, I’d learn more about myself.

Exhibit A, my grandmother and her friends at the beach:

And, my grandma and her friends at the beach, and on the ranch:

I always knew we were alike, but seeing these photos made it that much more obvious.  And hearing the stories?  Well, that was just awesome. People say, when you look back in time, we only tend to see the good.  That we’re just ignoring the past and seeing what we want to see. I disagree.

Sure, we all have our truths … things that stay with us.  But I think that if we choose to look back, then we also have the opportunity to decide what we get from that. And what I see, from my family, from the people that lead to me, is joy.  I see these moments in photos and it reminds me to enjoy my own moments. My own history.

Like my grandmother holding my mother:

Or my mother with her first little sister:

And cowboys.  Or at least, wannabe cowboys:

Or my grandfather getting “branded”:

And, of course, the opportunity to embarrass my mother:

And the town I grew up in, long before the roads were paved:

My grandmother is special. I’ve always known that.  I know she values every relationship she has in this world— 82 years of them. When I think about how I want to be, the woman I want to be known as, I think a lot about my grandmother.  We’ve spent countless afternoons together, and I know there are other people in this world that can teach me things, but what it comes down to is this: there’s no one else I’d rather learn from.

If you’d have asked me in the beginning of this 29 in 29 for 29 thing, I would have told you that Number 26 would be the item I’d be least likely to complete. I mean, “Get someone to let me drive a Zamboni” is just so out there to begin with, and then to actually find a way to do it in 29 days? It didn’t seem likely.

But, like almost every other item on the list, there was a lot more to it than a task.  Ohhh, deep, right?

Luckily, having grown up in what was a budding hockey-loving town and is now booming if not on the verge, I did have the advantage of being part of a little piece of the community that has access to, among many things, Zambonis.  Nothing like calling in favors to people who don’t even owe you in the first place.

So, without further rambling, my Zamboni experience:

[Disclaimer-- It is important to note that though I was in the driver's seat, and though I moved while on the Zamboni, I did not operate said machine. Insurance covers a lot of things, but apparently not 29-year-olds on ridiculous missions.]

The view from the top

Trying not to feel like the biggest doofus ever

It was almost like my own little rink parade

So there’s Number 26. Who knew I could be even more embarassed than usual?  Who knew I could feel more akward than usual?  Who knew the boy giving me instructions would be young enough to be my son?  Who knew lighting in the rink was so awful?

Sigh.

I really hope this 29  in 29 for 29 list thing isn’t getting old.  Honestly, I lost a little interest toward the end of last week that carried over into Saturday.  Actually, I lost a little motivation for a lot of things come Saturday.  If there’s one thing this list has kept me from, it’s sitting down and typing out endless paragraphs about my feelings on my blog. And trust me, right about now that’s a good thing.  Aside from a few of you blogging angels who’ve put up with me and my emails about everything from politics to the economy to dating, no one else has had to suffer that rambling. I thank you, blogging angels, and probably so does everyone else.

All told—or not— Saturday became the perfect day to unplug myself from the world. I didn’t do it on purpose, but I accomplished Number 6, and turned off my cell phone for an entire day.  And my television. And my computer.  And my lights for part of the day, truth be told.

I did run on the treadmill, which I cannot apologize for because it was a 30-degree windy, foggy, rain-mixed-with-ice-balls (not kidding) day and I am just so not ready for that yet.  Or ever. I made white chili, I vacuumed, and I dreamed of someone coming to clean the bathroom.  That, of course, made no difference, but I promise one of these days IT WILL.

A couple weeks ago when I dove into my closet (one of them, anyway) to give away sweaters I had to fight to ignore the fact that, well, there was a whole lot more than sweaters to go through. Like five shopping bags full of clothes I no longer like and/or wear.  And we thought the eighteen sweaters was bad.

This turned from going through clothes to cleaning out one closet after another, and then a few drawers. I know no one sees inside closets and drawers, but I couldn’t help but feel so much better about almost everything after that.  So there it is: Number 27, reduce clutter in at least one area of my life. Which happened to carry over to a few other areas, too. That’s fine with me.

Once I heard a financial advisor say that you can almost always tell how someone thinks about money by looking at their house. No matter how much or little they own, it will be organized, neat, and clean.  I’ve always aspired to that if not accomplished it. I don’t mean to talk about money again (Lord knows I could do without the emails) but I can’t help but be reminded that the Everything in It’s Place principle is either adapted or not, and therefore applies to almost every part of your life.  Things are either in place, or they’re not.

I was very thankful at the end of the day on Saturday. I took a break from the norm, I was completely disconnected, and found a way to reconnect, too. Things are a little more in place, and hopefully that means I can stop abusing my internet friends. However, I do not plan to stop complaining about cold weather. That would be too much to ask.

I don’t know anyone who isn’t thinking about money right now.  I don’t know anyone who isn’t trying to cut back, cut down, or cut out something they don’t need.  I know more people that have lost their jobs in the last month than ever before in my life.

I’m not sure I know what Doom and Gloom is, but a lot of what’s happening around me right now seems to fit the description.

When I put Number 20, learn and adapt ways to be more frugal, on the 29 in 29 for 29 list, I have to say, I wasn’t really thinking that far ahead.  I’ve always been a pretty money-concious person. If my mother taught me anything that has always stuck with me, it’s always floss your teeth, and always live within your means.  But now, even within my means, even without going to Debtor’s Prison, I’m worried.  I don’t see how we can’t be, and if you do, please enlighten me, because 24 hours can’t really go by where I don’t freak out about this.

Luckily, I also know that you can’t just freak out and not do anything about it.  So yeah, the fact that Number 20 happens to come at the most significant time in history is not lost on me.  In a lot of ways I’ve acted like a lot of other Americans and spent based on want instead of need.  That is ok.  Of course that is ok. Sometimes. The line, though, between some wants and every want can get really blurry when you’re not watching.

But I don’t want to ramble on, because I’m not qualified to give money lessons.  What I will share is what I’ve done in the last couple weeks to cut back.

1) I quit the gym.  (And as an aside, it should just be assumed that if you quit the gym, you’re going to have to fight with someone. Those gym people are ruthless. Period.)  I have a treadmill at home that I use. I have weights at home that I use. I have a dog at home that I walk every day.  And I have a new spin bike at home THAT I USE. Normally, I’m the last person to encourage cutting back on health and fitness, but I’ve made those investments in other places, and the gym wasn’t necessary any longer.  I am going to miss the public  grunting, though.

2) I stopped Netflix. Gah. I know. I could hardly believe it myself.  But there were two realities I needed to face: I haven’t had time to just watch a movie in about six months (multi-tasking while watching movies is wrong), and I have satellite television.  Which is completely enough. More than enough.  And so far, surprisingly, I am living.

3) I stopped buying books.  I go to the library now.  And while I’m completely behind buying books and establishing your own library, today, right now, that is not something I need to do.  (Not-so-secretly though, I really, really hope this doesn’t last long. I like supporting book-buying and good authors.)

4) I called the phone company and changed the service.  It took thirty minutes, and hey, guess what? I don’t call South America.  I realize some people do.  I don’t.

5) I discontinued two memberships to professional organizations that while they’re nice to have, aren’t exactly a necessity to my career or future. And sometimes, with these things, now is as good a time as any to find something new and move on.

6) I make coffee at home now.  I like iced coffee, so I figured out how to make it at home (notice, I did not buy anything special with which to make the coffee. Heh!) and I did.

I was hesitant to admit it, but it’s actually really good.  And because I can choose from all kinds of coffee, sometimes it’s actually better than what I could buy. And speaking of buying, though it hadn’t gotten this out of hand, I could potentially have been spending close to $80 -$90 a month on coffee. I want to throw up just thinking about that, because it’s ridiculous.

My mother is very proud right now.  I just know it.

So with those six things, and assuming the coffee was maybe around a $50 total, I’m saving about $145 per month.  No, it is not tens of thousands, but in a year, it’s over $1700.  That is real money, people.

I do want to say, that I chose these things because they’re what first came to mind.  They are what I could EASILY cut back on and the choices I made are what works FOR ME.  The bottom line is we all can probably justify what we want to— we’re probably really good at that. But what I’ve learned from this is that by justifying just about anything, I’m doing myself absolutely no favors.

So here’s to Number 20, and to all of us not having to freak out for very much longer.