Posts Tagged ‘piggy bank’

Put Your Money In the Bunny

December 16, 2013

Bank baby.

Save it for a rainy day.

Or for your birthday.

Which is the case with my bunny bank.

I have a bunny bank, not a piggy bank.

I actually have um, uh, yeah, three bunny banks.

Heh.

Plus an online account that I deposited to today.  I almost have the money to give to Barnaby to pay back the Paris ticket he bought for me to get home with.

Almost.

Another couple of weeks and I will have it.

I vacillated as I was looking at my checkbook, my birthday is Wednesday, I should, could, would like to, spend money on…

But the fact is I already spent my birthday money, today.

So, I put some more money in my savings account and mentally thanked my friend once again for helping me get back to where I need to be.

My “piggy bank” though is a different story.

I save up my money in my bunny bank, or banks, as the case may be, and the money that I save goes into my paw and I spend it on, once a year, whatever the fuck I want to spend it on for my birthday present.

There was not a great whopping load of cash in the bank this year, but I did get a new skirt and I took myself out to dinner.

Which is pretty much what I was hoping for.

I also took myself out to get a little pampering.

Manicure, pedicure, eyebrow wax.

I won’t have time for it the rest of the week.

Despite taking off on Wednesday, I still have a fairly heavy week, with extra work on Friday since I took off Wednesday.

And I start the holiday house sitting gig on Thursday.

I picked up the keys yesterday and met the cat, Stella, a golden little minx of a girl, orange tabby with the biggest eyes I have seen on a cat.  She cuddled right up to me and I thought, aw, this will be nice to have a little kitten to snuggle with over a week.

The house is also really pretty, a two bedroom on Dolores at 18th.

Right in the prime of the prime neighborhoods.

I will be in the Mission for Christmas.

I will miss my little tree with her twinkling blue lights, but I have really enjoyed having it and I will keep it up until New Years.

Then I think I will take it down and burn it at the beach, let go of the old ideas that I have carried with me over the year in a ritualistic Christmas/Burning Man/New Year resolution/surrender to it sort of move.

Burn it down baby.

But not today, today was not about burning the candle at both ends.

Besides I sort of got to do that Friday night anyhow.

No, today was about treating myself nicely.

Sleeping in.

Not that 9 a.m. is a huge sleep in, but when I normally get up at 7 a.m. it feels luxurious.  My brain really doesn’t care to let me linger in bed once I have gotten around 8 hours and I have no patience for listening to its morning rap of doom, gloom, financial insecurity, and fear.

I just get the fuck up.

However, I took a leisurely morning, writing, drinking an extra cup of coffee, hula hooping, sitting out in the back yard in the sunlight, in my flip-flops (super grateful it has warmed up to a normal temperature), meditating.

I took a walk around the neighborhood.

I went to a couple of art galleries.

I made a nice healthy lunch.

I drank some tea and made some phone calls.

Then I took my bunny bank money and went to the nail salon and Cross Roads.

It was perfect.

I have matching lilac nails with glitter bomb top coat over them.

It’s my party and I will sparkle if I want to.

Dinner down at Church and Market and a good book to keep me company.

Meeting with a ladybug, a trip to Our Lady of Safeway, and a train ride home through Christmas light infused neighborhoods.

So grateful for my life and my lively hood, my friends, and my community.

And my bunnies.

Heh.

I don’t know what that is about, but it is my thing.

I mean last year for my birthday I got a jack-a-lope tattooed on my forearm.

In pink.

Oh yeah.

I have been thinking about another tattoo, a little anniversary coming up in January that I may wish to commemorate, although I don’t have any idea what I would be getting, just that there is the thought in my mind.

Imagine.

I could fly back to Paris for a weekend and get one.

Not currently in my price range though.

I did hear a rumour that Barnaby may be relocating to Hawaii, and well, gee, I have always wanted to visit there, especially since I am a quarter Polynesian and still have family in the islands.

I joke with friends that I have never gone because I am afraid I wouldn’t come back, but somehow the time has just never presented itself to me.  I do think about it though, especially when I see friends posting photos of vacations there and well, hmm, looks like a place I would enjoy.

Who knows.

Just for now I am here.

I am staying and I like it.

I like that I am my age.

I like where I am living.

I like that I am willing to do the work to change, tried a few small things today, took some actions, even updated my Okstupid profile.

One action–forgiving myself for being single.

Another action–being available to the man who wants to spend time with me.

It was suggested I try the online dating thing again and ok, sure, I will.

I don’t know who or how or when and I am just taking actions, letting go the results you could say, but taking action nonetheless.

And taking, foremost the action of taking care of myself which does, yes, mean manicures and pedicures, they are a treat and I like to look put together.

“You have such beautiful lips,” my manicurist said, “what color lipstick?”

I love that.

I who used to never wear lipstick, who carried everything in her jeans pockets, clipped her keys on her belt loop on her jeans, and only wore lip balm.

Getting all fancy.

Carrying a purse, once in a while, ok, I admit it, I still mainly use a messenger bag.

Buying a skirt.

Growing my hair back out.

These are ways too in which I say, hey, look, me, available, looking nice, paying my bills, putting money in savings, living the good life down by the beach, I am available for the man who is drawn to me–I will get pretty for me, but I like dressing up for you too.

Yup.

I am even letting go of what that man is supposed to look like or be or have; although I won’t date a heavy drinker or someone actively using drugs, and my preference is going to lean very much toward a non-smoker and someone with a job and his own place to live.

But really letting go my ideas about other traits and qualities.

They, my ideas, don’t serve.

Most the time, they really don’t.

But the actions?

That shit works.

Even just the action of putting a little away in the bank adds up.

Pennies and dimes, nickels and quarters.

The small, aware actions that I take from flossing my teeth, to making my bed, to sitting in quiet contemplation and asking for direction to do the next thing in front of me, sweep the floor anyone?

These are the things I can do.

These are the things that add up to a life worth living.

And my God, my life is worth living.

So just getting started.

The best, my friends, oh yes, is yet to come.


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