LouisaFinnell's Open Salon Blog

The Bleak Truth

Fri, 16 Dec 2011 17:12:01 -0500

I was poor when I was young and into my 30s believed I always would be, that life would always be this much of a miserable drag, everything so freaking unbelievably hard. I'd scraped through college and worked at a series of low paying jobs hoping for a breakthrough, but a problem with my old car would upset my tight, sensitive budget for months. When I'd finally manage my way out of that, my car would need a new battery. Or I'd have to move. Or I'd have to see a doctor. It was impossible to improve my situation even working as hard as I did to get small raises every so often.

Then I married a man who, despite being even poorer than I was, knew it would be better for us long-term in time. And it was. We worked out way into the lower edge of the middle class. We bought a house, believing that the long-term goal of a paid off house was the ultimate security. We endured through all manner of physical problems, surgeries, job changes, career changes, and so on.

Then I got laid off. That was more than two years ago. We are frugal people, but the unemployment is long gone and our savings is gone. Nobody will hire me because I'm too old, though not nearly old enough for social security. We can't sell our house. It needs work we can't afford. We're screwed.

My husband’s health is fragile (his open heart surgery last year killed our savings, but saved his life), but he has a job. A large portion of his pay goes to cover my health insurance, and he won’t get the tiny raise he was promised because of budget cuts. Unfortunately, it's a non-profit, low paying job that the Republicans in my state are working hard to destroy, and it isn't enough. He makes a living helping people who are a lot worse off than we are, and everyone in his office knows that one bad decision is all that separates them from their clients.

I'm volunteering part-time and hoping that it will turn into an income eventually. I'm also going back to school part-time, hoping the language skills will help me get work and hoping the financial aid (despite being all in the form of loans) will keep us afloat until I can start making money. And we're hoping for the best. But the possibility of being as grindingly poor as I was in my 20s again is more depressing than I can express. It's more than possible. It's probable. We did everything right, except succeed. We're part of a drowning lower middle class. Our siblings are no better off. It sucks.

Wow, that was bleak. But it’s true. I feel better getting that off my chest. But have I depressed everyone who might read this, or are there a lot of people out there who can identify? I think there are a lot of people who can identify. I think we aren’t alone.

Hunger Pangs

Sun, 30 Oct 2011 03:10:07 -0400

I found out that I'm a stress eater when I was laid off 2 years ago. When I had a job, I was always hungry. For breakfast. For donuts and coffee. For lunch. I had candy at my desk. I was starved when I got home. My husband was never ready to eat right after work, so I snacked on whatever I could find until dinner. I didn't eat big plates of food, but I was always eating something. I got fat. It happened so gradually I hardly noticed, until I saw a photo someone took of me and didn't recognize myself. It was horrible. Shocking. Who was that obese woman? Me? Really? Yes.

I tried to curb my appetite, but it was very difficult. What do you do when you are hungry ALL THE TIME? It was impossible. I tried hard to eat out less and to eat healthier food, but I was only moderately successful even when I put a great deal of effort into it. I gained back anything I lost quickly.

Then I lost my job, and I stopped being hungry. Sure, I still enjoy food. But most of the time, I don't eat anything until my husband gets home and we have dinner together. Or I'll eat a banana if I'm going to be out running around all day. I'm not starved all the time. I'm never starved.

The first 18 months, the weight fell off quickly and steadily. I'm not sure how much, because at my top weight the only time I got on a scale was at the doctor's office. I'm still losing about a pound a month, and I'm at a normal weight. It feels great. It happened so easily and naturally that I can honestly say that it required no effort. I eat what I want when I want it, and I eat very well because now I shop and cook. I'm not idle. I take classes and I'm a housewife. I have a long "to do" list, and I do it. But food is not something I yearn for all the time as I did when I was working. It's amazing to find that out.

I'm grateful that people have stopped commenting on how thin I am and asking me how I did it. I did it because I lost my job. Really. Because losing my job was the best terrible thing that has ever happened to me.

But I have to go back to work. I don't know how to make that happen, but I know it must happen. That means stress and a routine schedule again, the very thing that put the weight on me before. I cringe to think of it, but at least now I know. It isn't hunger. When I had a job, I ate to comfort myself because I was stressed and pressured and unhappy. It isn't hunger. I'll try to remember that.

Music Theory

Mon, 29 Aug 2011 01:08:35 -0400

I’m 55 years old and just started back to school with the 18-year-olds. I am taking two classes at our fine local community college: Spanish, because it’s good for my work, and music theory, because it’s good for my soul.

When I was a college freshman, I was accepted into my school’s music program. With a few years of piano lessons, some semi-professional guitar experience, and 14 years of choral work behind me, music was the only thing I was good at. I had no idea otherwise what to major in or what I wanted to do as a career. I was the first in my family to go to college, so solid advice was hard to come by.

I jumped into serious music study, spent countless hours in the practice rooms, and thrived. After my first year, I reluctantly changed my major to English. I still didn’t have a career plan, but I did understand that I was too late to major in piano, my stage fright was too overwhelming to major in voice, and my school didn’t offer a major in theory and composition. Transferring to a college that offered this major wasn’t an option because I was poor. Any school that required me to spend money on travel was out of the question. I didn’t have a choice. I earned my degree in English.

I loved studying music theory when I was a teenager. Now 37 years later, I’m taking it again with classmates who are teenagers. I enjoy their lively youth, and I feel for them because most of them are scared shitless. The first week of classes, we have to master pitch, scales (all of them), and the circle of 5ths. Practically speaking, it just means that the fear in the classroom is palpable.

It isn’t that my classmates don’t have a background in music. But some of them have played the violin, which means they may have ignored the bass clef, or guitar, which means they may never have played a piano, or they are percussionists, who are really suffering. To succeed in music theory, we must master the fundamentals fast. I’m playing scales like crazy, hoping to pass the keyboard test.

Down the road a little, the violinists will find that they are already good at dynamics, guitarists will realize they are already good at chord progressions, and percussionists will see that they have already mastered meter and rhythm. The piano players enjoy a huge advantage here at the start, but soon they will be in the pit with the rest of us.

I hope my classmates stick it out, master the unfamiliar territory, and learn to love music theory. The truth is, anything one learns about music is a joy forever. I can vouch for that.