No…well, some…regrets

I generally live my life with no regrets. I know that all the mistakes I’ve made and paths I’ve chosen helped me become the person I am today; A person that, inside, I’m generally pretty happy with. But, I am lying when I say I have no regrets, because I do.

My first regret is taking my high school figure for granted and not doing all that I could to stay as trim as I was (Ehh, maybe plus a few pounds, I was pretty frail). I was given a second chance when I was 10 pounds away from my goal weight after graduating Manhattanville. Instead of hitting the gym, I hit McDonalds and have been watching my waistband slowly increase since. Sounds pretty vain, but in the end, I’m unhappy with the way I look, I’m self-conscious and instead of having 10 extra pounds to lose I have….much more.

My next regret was only taking my mother’s financial advice half to heart. My mother used her powers of Italian Catholic guilt to make me feel bad about using my credit card without the means to pay the balance in full when the bill came due. Too bad for Capital One, since they didn’t make a dime of interest off me until two years ago.

That’s not to say that I didn’t spend my money. I did. I really couldn’t tell you what it was on either. I didn’t party in college so I didn’t really drink it away and I’m not much of a shopaholic so my closet wasn’t exactly overflowing. I made a few, and paid for, a few trips to and from Virginia when I was in a long distance relationship, but one year of flying SouthWest doesn’t account for the thousands of dollars I can’t account for.

Despite talk of saving money for a new car all through college, I never actually did and when my Escort died I had to borrow money from my parents for the down payment. I never really made that much, but I should have been able to put away a decent amount of my paycheck.

Sorry, I’m getting to my point.

Now I’m here at 27 years old, itching to head out of state, but my modest savings isn’t enough to make the trip without being employed. I ignored my mother all those times she talked about my IRA and how I could use it to buy a house one day and now that times are ripe to purchase a new home, I’m pretty short the required amount to actually use that investment.

Sure, hindsight is 20/20 and had I known I’d be in the this position 10 years ago I would have thought twice about making all those purchases I can’t remember. Maybe I needed to be irresponsible to learn the value of being responsible, but had I just been responsible in the first place, I’d be writing this blog from an apartment in North Carolina.

Cute Hockey Boy

Two years ago at this time I was Brunos, a bar in Lake Ronkonkoma, sitting next to this amazing guy, Cute Hockey Boy, talking about something. I can’t remember what because the conversation glided easily from one topic to another. We had just finished watching the Islanders lose to the Flyers and the bar was starting to fill with its Saturday night regulars. When it finally got too loud to hear each other speak we hopped in the car and drove to Starbucks and finished our conversation over coffee until we were sent away by a weary barista. We returned to the Applebees parking lot where I had left my car and I returned home giddy as a schoolgirl nearly seven hours after my date had started.

My love affair with goalies came true when I met this goalie in 2008.

In the present day that amazing guy is still in my life and the Islanders are still losing (6-4 Penguins…ugh). Chuck and I have been through a lot since that first date: weddings, funerals, hiring, firings, weight loss, weight gain and more trips to the emergency room than I care to count.

I knew early on that Chuck was the person that I wanted to strap a ball and chain to and keep around for the rest of my life. I’m glad he feels the same way about me, because otherwise this would be one awkward blog.

We’ve been ready to take the next step in our relationship for a while now and unfortunately the thing keeping us from doing that isn’t a fear of commitment, but an inability to pay the rent. If I had to choose between the two, I would take the fear of commitment over high cost of living.

We decided to relive our first date today by heading to Applebees for dinner. Everything was great until the end of dinner when Chuck’s stomach began acting up. We had end the night early because he forgot his medicine at home. “I wish we lived together,” he said as he drove me back to my house.

While we have come down with our fair share of misfortune in terms of school and employment, the simple act of starting your life together should not be hindered by an extreme cost of living. Why should my life be delayed because salaries are low and taxes are high? Why is rent for the same exact apartment two hours north $200 more expensive?

Next year we won’t be celebrating the third anniversary of our first date at the Patchogue Applebees. We’ll be in our own place in a city hundreds of miles away.

Learn By Doing

Cooking while living at home is probably one of the hardest thing to do.

Well, I could think of others, but on the off chance that my family actually does read this, I’ll keep those thoughts to myself.

…Don’t judge me, I’m 27 dammit…

Anyway. While Chuck lived in his own apartment we began cooking our own meals, but the lack of cooking space aside from the stove top made real experimentation difficult. Now that we both live at home, cooking space is a plenty. Problem now is too many cooks in the kitchen.

White pizza with bruschetta topping. It was pretty damn awesome.

While Chuck’s parents give us the space we need to make everything from pizza to tacos…okay, just pizza and tacos, my mother is a little more hands on, like it or not.

Enter my traditional Italian mother. The one that always makes sure you have something to eat, even if you aren’t hungry. Give in to her requests to prepare you something and you get a bowl of pasta, chicken cutlets with a side of vegetables. I’ve learned most of what I know about cooking just from watching my mother in the kitchen. She is always appreciative of help while she’s cooking, but try doing it on your own and you’ll end up sitting at the kitchen table while she does everything herself.

Example. I wanted to make some chicken soup with rice for lunch the next day. My mother was in the kitchen also preparing dinner for the following day (something that helped her always put a hot meal on the table after working 9-5). I asked her some questions and she gave me the answers.

“When the broth boils, throw in the rice and turn the stove off.” (Or something like that. I can’t remember exactly, but that leads me to the point of my story)

Our take on Taco Bell's Cheesy Gordita Crunch.

I turn on the stove and while I let the broth get hot I check out what my father is watching in the living room. When I feel that the broth must be boiling I walk over to the kitchen and there is the rice simmering in the pot.

Ugh. OK.

“In 20 minutes it should be ready and you can throw it in the fridge.”

So I leave to head up to my room, checking the time and taking a mental note to come back in 20 minutes. At the 18-minute mark my mother pops her head into my room and tells me she threw the soup in a container and it’s now in the fridge.

Ugh. OK.

Am I appreciative of my mother’s love and care. Damn skippy I am.

Have I learned anything? NO! I couldn’t even tell you how the conversation went. If I wanted to make the same bowl of soup tonight I would have to ask her again.

A similar problem ensued over the summer with the cooking of BBQ chicken. The incident lead me to scream “Learn by doing!!” at my mother while my friend Beka laughed. Needless to say, the chicken soup incident happened after the BBQ incident so obviously she never got the point.

A big part of getting my own place is the bring desire to stock my own fridge and cook my own food. I enjoy working beside Chuck in the kitchen and then feasting on the meal that we have concocted.

Once it finally happens, I’m sure that after a long day of work I’ll be wishing I had my mother to prepare a hot meal for me. But, that’s what take out is for isn’t it?

Job Hunt = Buzzkill

As the minutes ticked down to the New Year, I couldn’t wait to hop online and start searching for new jobs. I fought the urge to start sooner, waiting for January 2 to finally peruse the listings.

Now, I’m not stupid.

I realize the kind of economic climate we’re in. Many people I know are currently looking for jobs with no luck in finding anything suitable or hearing back for the jobs they do apply for. I was in this same position two years ago when I was let go from my previous job and it took me four months to get hired at my current position.

I didn’t expect to find anything right away and I tried to keep my optimism at a realistic level. But wow, does job hunting really take the happy-go-lucky out of you.

The problem isn’t lack of jobs. There are plenty of positions available. None of which I qualify for. In 10 years I could be hired as a manager or director, but right now I’m in that awkward spot between entry level and just above entry level. Apparently all the positions for the low man on the totem pole are filled.

Another obstacle is the inability to move prior to having a job. For some reason this makes me an undesirable for employers. I could see employers wanting me to be familiar with a community, but as I tell most people from Long Beach “I didn’t know Long Beach existed until I started working here.” In the end, I know more about Long Beach than I do about my own hometown.

I won’t ask for relocation and I would start just as soon as anyone else who had to give his or her current employer notice. Would I hop on a plane for a 15-minute interview? Hell yeah.

Sure, we would love to pack our bags but considering our savings, or lack thereof, it’s just not financially possible. We’re trying to do this responsibly in hopes that once we leave we won’t be forced to move back.

On the bright side, the state education department confirmed our information that Chuck could apply for a job and start working without certification. Hopefully someone will scoop up his science skills and pay him enough to support my butt until I find something.

I’m trying to say positive, especially since it’s only January 6 and we’ve only been at it for four days. Maybe I need to cut myself a little slack.

Real Estate Reality TV Junkie

I’ve been an HGTV junkie since October.

When my friend Katie bought her co-op in Mamaroneck, she said she used the network’s design shows as inspiration to transform her fixer upper into the amazing place it is today.  Being that I’ve been thinking about having my own place around the clock for about a year now, I decided to turn the network on as background while getting ready at my hotel in Hershey Park.

And I became hooked.

Now, I watch episode after episode of House Hunters, Property Virgins, My First Place and What You Get For the Money. I also get inspiration from the design shows, but being that I don’t actually have a place to decorate, I find myself more emotionally invested in the shows geared toward real estate.

Between the personal experiences of my friends and watching this network non-stop, I’ve learned more in six months about home ownership than I have my entire life. I think most of this zest for property comes from my burning desire to own – or at least rent – some of my own.

We could buy one of these historic homes that are for sale, but I'm afraid if I buy an old house it'll be haunted.

Through some chatting between myself and a friend and then my friend with her Realtor, I was contacted by a Realtor in North Carolina offering her services when Chuck and I finally make a move. (HOLY CRAP this is getting so serious I’m talking to Realtors [insert freak out here]) Initially, we figured we’d rent for a year or two so we’re not tied down in case we decide we absolutely hate southern living (not likely and worse case scenario we could rent said house to pay for rent here on LI).

I brought up the topic with my parents, who have finally decided to keep their thoughts about moving in before marriage to themselves. I told my mother we planned on saving the money by renting. Fiscally minded before traditionally Catholic, she said we would be stupid not to buy a place immediately, if we could afford it. She pointed out that with home prices being at a low and financial assistance being available, if we wait, prices will rise and assistance might not be there. In the end it becomes a wash and we save nothing.

Maybe something a little smaller for our starter home.

The idea of purchasing our first place within a few months of moving shot to the forefront of my mind and fueled my desire to DVR every episode of My First Place. Before making the decision to head south as soon as possible, even talking about home ownership was a depressing thought.

How much for a three bedroom?

$12,000 a year for taxes?

Electric is going up again?

While my friends have been able to purchase their own homes on Long Island, the option just isn’t there for Chuck and me. We’re both okay with that and now with newly restored hope and optimism we’re thinking about the new place we’re ready to call home.

Leave it all Behind?

I saw this Forbes.com article today on my Yahoo! home page.

Best Bang for Your Buck Cities

I’ll admit that at first I didn’t read the whole article all the way through. I skimmed down to the end where I saw the “Read full list” link and found that three of the places I’ll be visiting this week were pretty high up. (I’ve since read the whole thing) It’s the second time I’ve seen some good news out of North Carolina. The first one was this article about America’s fastest recovering cities. Raleigh was in the top 10.

I’ve been so obsessed with this trip and the possibilities that might come from it that I’ve all but forgotten the little mini-trips that Chuck and I planned on taking. We would still like to go to Maryland and North into New England. Places like Salisbury and Providence are on the physical list, but mentally, I had almost excluded them.

What brought them back to the forefront of my mind was visiting my friend Lex for her birthday this weekend. I’ll be missing her big birthday bash because of my vacation so I took her out to the Cheesecake Factory in White Plains. For the most part many of my friends are within a couple hour’s driving distance. I’ll admit that even though I graduated almost five years ago, I’m still having trouble adjusting to not having my friends around at all hours of the day like I did at Manhattanville.

If I move to North Carolina seeing them will become a once a year thing instead of once a month thing. As someone who is so dependent on her friends for emotional and physical support, I feel that it would make me even more sad to be so far away and know that I chose to be that far.

But, while all of my friends have moved on to the next stage in life I stumble behind. At one of the oldest I’m also the furthest back in life.

Do I struggle here so that I can have the comfort of knowing my friends are nearby?

Or,

Do I move away to a place that can offer me the life I want to live, with the man I want to live it with, but give up the physical closeness Long Island offers me now?

Move out date: 2010

A week from today Chuck and I will be heading south toward Raleigh, N.C. in search of a better life. I’m not sure if we’ll find it there, but I’m looking forward to a real vacation anyway.

With each of us growing increasingly frustrated with our living and financial situation, we’ve decided to make 2010 the year that we pack our bags and move out of the house no matter what it takes. Of course, this is easier said than done, but it’s not going to happen if we just wait for some invisible power to drop a job and a house in our laps.

As with most plans, we go into this venture with a lot of flexibility. We’re setting our sights on North Carolina, but are willing to go wherever we get an offers for a job that allows us to cohabitate. At this point, that includes Long Island.

Since I refuse to put myself into financial prison for an over priced, over taxed home on Long Island, I don’t plan on settling here permanently, but if the right job with the right salary was offered I’d stick around for a while.

There's a lot on Long Island I don't want to give up, including friends, family and the nearby ocean.

It would be nice to be close to friends and family for a little while longer instead of isolating ourselves in a state 10 hours away.

Right now our plan is to move out without any concrete direction on out to achieve that goal. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. It’s good because it offers us flexibility and save us from disappointment with our die-hard plan doesn’t work out. It’s bad because it leaves a lot of questions unanswered.

Where will we go?

What will we do?

How will we pay for it?

I’m not really sure how we’ll do it, but in 2010 I’m packing my bags and moving out.

The Last New Year’s?

My parents are pretty cool.

Since I was a teenager they let me host parties here at my house. Of course there was no boozing going on until we were all of age, but those parties were pretty fun. I had a lot of good laughs and I think my friends did too.

A few years ago, I’m not sure exactly when (I think it was ’03-’04), a group of friends and I tried to figure out what we would be doing for New Year’s Eve. We all still lived with our parents and we were all broke. We were home from school so partying in Dammann  3-7 wasn’t an option. I decided to host a party knowing full well that no one would mind that it wasn’t a raging kegger and it would be a relatively laid-back kinda evening.

Since then I have hosted New Year’s at my house. My parents being just a tad more boring that I am stay home and keep out of sight.

Every year starts with a hard-core game of Taboo that guarantees much laughter.

I don’t have a basement so they gladly keep on the DL while my friends and I have run of the rest of the house, drinking wine and playing a billion rounds of Taboo.

Last year, with the possible plans of moving to Rochester, I proudly exclaimed that it would be the last New Year’s in Holbrook. Now that 2009 is coming to an end and I’m still in Holbrook I thought long and hard about having hosting New Year’s.

For a good month, I decided I wouldn’t. My birthday is a week prior and I am already having enough trouble dealing with turning 27 and still living at home. I didn’t need New Year’s to remind me that Chuck and I failed at moving out this year. I quietly decided just to forget it.

Last month Chuck and I decided to take vacation down in North Carolina and check out our prospects. With a possible move once again upon us, I rethought the party. Sure, I am still depressed about turning 27 and being light years behind my friends, but what if North Carolina actually works out? What if this year is actually the last year in Holbrook?

No painful heels here. New Year's Eve at my house is all about comfort.

What if next year I’ll be living in North Carolina and no one can come visit? I would regret giving up the party that I’ve made my own.

Since quietly deciding I would host another New Year’s I’ve been asked three times by friends if I would be.

Maybe I’m the only one that minds spending New Year’s in Holbrook.

Long Beach housing prices aren’t so ‘cool’ – LIHerald.com – Nassau County’s source for local news, breaking news, sports, entertainment & shopping

Not for Nothing: My latest column on (Un)affordable housing on Long Island printed in this week’s Long Beach Herald.

Long Beach housing prices aren’t so ‘cool’ – LIHerald.com – Nassau County’s source for local news, breaking news, sports, entertainment & shopping.

To Live in Sin

At almost 27, I find myself in a serious relationship looking to make the next step that will eventually lead to the marriage step. It is very hard to take your relationship to the next level when you live with your parents.

Now, of course, I know plenty of couples that dated, got engaged and moved in after the wedding, but the difference is, whether they moved in before or after the wedding, they still had the funds necessary to move in together. No one gets engaged if they can’t afford to move out or in the case of many Long Island couples, have a basement apartment in their parent’s house they can move into.

My mother has offered to separate part of the house into an apartment, which would require the installation of a kitchen and possibly a bathroom. If not a bathroom, then it would require major construction to make the upstairs bedrooms larger to accommodate my parents and siblings. They would spend a butt-load of money and get nearly nothing on their return, because my parents would refuse to take rent from us. After Chuck and I spent a few years in this makeshift mother-daughter home, they would rent it out to a stranger, which would possibly help their investment.

The idea sounded great at first, but in the end I’ve put it on the bottom of the option list because I’d rather my parents not demolish my entire house just so Chuck and I can move in together.

Truth be told, it’s a bad time in general for young couples. While I am one of the lone few attached friends still living at home, those that have been able to settle on the Island acknowledged times are tough. In passing conversation I hear about taxes increasing and how the heat will be left off until the first snow falls.

A home should be your castle not your prison, but right now, my childhood bedroom is starting to feel like a prison.