Posts Tagged ‘about Aloysa’

I am Turning 40. Now What?

I am turning forty years old this May. Turning forty feels as if I am reaching some kind of threshold, a new door that I am going to open, a milestone if you will.

Now, let’s talk about my birthdays for a second. I hate my birthdays not because I am afraid to turn older, but because I always feel lonely.  And I cry a lot. I sob. I indulge in self-pity and misery. Yes, I love to feel gloomy on my birthdays. My birthday is the saddest day of the year.

Of course, there is a sadistic side to all of(…)

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I’d Rather Have New Shoes Than Kids

It all started with my friend cracking a joke about my shopping addiction. “You’d rather have new shoes than children,” she said. Then she caught my eyes that were reflecting exactly the same thought and added (not laughing) “I can’t believe you’d rather have new shoes than kids.”

You’ve read the title of this post correctly. Your mind is probably racing from shock to horror to disbelief and then to anger. Feel free to throw stones at me because I know some of you will want to do it. But before you pick that stone up and throw it at my(…)

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What I Wish I Knew About Life and Finances In My 20s

I was born in the Soviet Republic of Lithuania. My financial education was nonexistent for about two decades after my birth. Neither my mother, nor my grandmother ever talked to me about financial management. Money was not a taboo, it was just the way everyone was raised in our family: you lived from paycheck to paycheck, sometimes asking for advance, sometimes borrowing from friends.

I graduated from college at age twenty, got married, got my first job, and then money trouble started, followed by marriage problems. My mother was by then living in the United States, and was wrapped up in(…)

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Work. Life. Balance. Hell.

Work.

Work slammed me with its huge hammer. The last three weeks were so overwhelmingly intense that I stopped believing in work-life balance for good. There are people who can stretch a 24-hour day into a 36-hour day, and still manage to get some sleep. I am not one of them. I stress. I feel overwhelmed. I want to scream. In fact, I have to shamefully admit that I did take out my stress on Beaker. A few times.

My past three weeks looked like this:

7:00 am – work

7:30 pm – drag myself home and half-heartedly listen to Beaker who is trying(…)

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My Not Quite Traditional Marriage

Today is our seventh year anniversary. Seven years of marriage. Seven years of shared experiences, dreams and plans. Seven years of getting to know each other.  Seven years of a life together.

When we met over seven years ago, both of us were poor. I was a full-time student, working full-time, my spending problems were in full gear, debt piling up. Beaker was living with his friend, driving a beat up car, and bouncing checks after our third or fourth date. The first time he told me that he bounced a check after one of our dates, I said that we(…)

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Why We Lie About Money

People tend to lie about money. I have yet to meet a person who would never say a lie, even a small lie. Some of us choose to conveniently omit truth. Some of us choose to tell so called “white lies.” Some of us blatantly make up stories to make ourselves look good. Some of us lie to avoid trouble.

Lying “Harmless” Half-Truth

I will start with myself. I lied about money to my ex-husband. My lies were not malicious, at least in the beginning. I preferred to think that those lies were for the better good. Or so I said to(…)

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Education In Pursuit of a Dream or Money

I never studied at college what I wanted. I chose my majors based on my future earning potential. Sadly, my education was not motivated by love for knowledge, natural curiosity and love of intellectual pursuits. My education was always motivated by financial gain.

Even though I had a dream of becoming a writer and joining the literary and intellectual elite, money was my stimulus. I viewed education as a valuable asset that would increase my chances of finding a higher paying job. I viewed it as an investment, and never a fulfilled dream.

I studied what I had to in order to(…)

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A Rebel in Blue Jeans

I got my first pair of jeans when I was 26 years old. I just moved to the United States, and, after some examination of my wardrobe, my stepfather told my mother that I needed to go shopping. Understandably, my Lithuanian clothes did not fit well into an American lifestyle.

My first jeans were from Gap. I still remember that odd feeling of foreignness that those jeans stirred in me. I finally realized that I was indeed in a different country, in an unfamiliar reality.

Jeans were not a very common form of attire back home. In the Soviet Union they represented(…)

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