Tuesday, April 7, 2009

The Tax Return as Memoir.

I don’t keep a journal. I haven’t in years, and when I read the old ones, I am acutely embarrassed for/by myself. Odd, perhaps, for someone who likes to write, but I don’t know that I need to keep a running, self-indulgent tally of my many neuroses. I mean, I have to live in my own brain and skin every day, I’m pretty aware of the situation; no further documentation is necessary.


I am also a purger (which is apparently not a word, per Microsoft Word) by nature, at least when it comes to all things concrete. If I haven’t worn something in a year, out it goes. I don’t have my any of my high school year books, and I am absolutely terrible about taking photos. I take them on vacation, because I feel like I should. I take them of other people’s kids, because if I don’t, I feel like the asshole who doesn’t care about other people’s kids. I take them of my pets, sometimes. But really, the photos that I have are mostly donated by people kind enough to share their photos with me. It’s a weird thing for me; if I’m in the moment, I feel like I’m stepping out of it to document it, and somehow that takes away from the moment’s meaning. I’ve kept some old cards and love letters and the like, but honestly it’s more out of a sense of obligation. All this being said, I am terribly, terribly sentimental; but what I carry around in my head ultimately means more to me than any photo ever could, unless the photo makes me look exceptionally thin.


However, there comes a time, every year, when I lovingly, and sometimes painfully, recall all the places I have been, and the people I have been there with during the prior year, and that time, my friends, is tax time.


I am an independent contractor, which means I would be a fool if I didn’t go through my credit card bills and bank statements, and lovingly highlight write-offs, which are then transcribed to an Excel spreadsheet, and forwarded on to my accountant. I am pretty conservative when it comes to this sort of thing, as an IRS audit is not my idea of a good time. However, in truth, some of my “client entertainment” write offs would only be legitimate were I a hooker, and I am not a hooker, I am a real estate agent, which is several clicks lower than a hooker in our current caste system.


However, it’s the non-highlighted stuff that truly tells the story. It’s all in the financial records, and each year I get to relive the prior year. I went to Italy this year, and while there were a few shoe purchases, the bulk of my money was spent on lodging and food. My cat got sick and died this year, but not without a prolonged and expensive fight. There were a lot of lunch, dinner and drink charges within a four block radius not near my home, which are living testaments to someone I clearly loved, and continue to love, spending time with. It’s also a safe bet that said person and I enjoy liquor and are not vegetarians. I spent Christmas in New Hampshire, and got a facial and a bunch of Bloody Marys. I sure do like Marc Jacobs. I got hip to the wide, wide world on illegal downloads, as my iTunes bills went down significantly in 2008. Shopping at Whole Foods is financial suicide. It’s all there, without insight, nuance, or bias, but it’s there.


Should I die, my memoirs could be documented, with painful accuracy, from my financial records. And this stupid blog, of course.

Monday, January 19, 2009

On this Inauguration Eve...

Well kids, it's almost here. It's been a long journey, and an ass-whip of the better part of a decade, but it would appear that change is upon us. I, for one, am thrilled, and am unabashed in my enthusiastic support for our incoming president. It warms the cockles of my cynical little heart to see Americans proud to be Americans again, and to see so much faith and optimism surrounding the incoming administration. When you think about where our national self-esteem was a year ago, it's nothing short of a miracle. The last time we felt this kind of unity was in 2001, and while people rising to the occasion was inspiring, the event which brought us together was beyond devastating.

Obama's pervasive message, as I see it, is one of inclusion and personal responsibility. It's going to be a long road back, and it's going to take a lot of work on the part of every American. Charity begins at home, and if everyone does something to further the well-being of their community, it's all going to add up. I've never been particularly active in this arena, and while I'm not particularly proud of this fact, there it is. I am going to try and change this. All my Obama-mania won't mean anything if I'm unwilling to answer his call to action.

There is an aspect of his message that I can't overlook, and I have to admit, it scares me a little bit. But I can't deny it: I'm going to have to stop making fun of Republicans.

In Democrat addled Chicago, and my bleeding heart liberal addled circle of friends, conservatives are an easy target. They're uneducated, they're racists, they're bible bangers, they don't want poor people to succeed, they're homophobes, they're robots who vote the way Mommy and Daddy tell them to. Yep, I've said it all, and probably so have you. We got to quit this, yo.

Obama has two Republicans in his cabinet, he's hosting a dinner for McCain tonight, he attended a dinner with conservative journalists last week. I'm beginning to realize that he actually meant what he said about this whole reaching across the aisle deal, and, horror of horrors, he fully intends to lead by example. Just who does this guy think he is, anyway?

So, going forward, I am going to try and be nicer to Republicans. I am going to try and give them the benefit of the doubt, and believe that they too are interested in the greater good, they just have different means of getting there. I am going to try and listen to them, and by "listen," I don't mean talk over them and roll my eyes. I mean try and find a common ground. Yes I can?

However, I have until tomorrow to stick to my old ways so here goes: maybe you guys would have been happier with the election results if you hadn't chosen an old curmudgeon and an idiot archetypal mean girl. Maybe you would have won if your current administration hadn't lied to the American people and treated us like idiots. These grave oversights on your part mean that I got the president I wanted in office. Keep up the good work.

OK, I'm done now. Almost.

A caveat: I value the separation of church and state above pretty much all else when it comes to our government, and therefore I don't see my views, or venom, changing when it comes to religious beliefs infringing on civil rights.

Now I'm really done.

Yes I can, yes I can, yes I can...