Posts Tagged ‘life’

Many years ago, in a land far, far away I used to have generalized anxiety disorder. I was pretty much terrified of my reflection. And while years of shock therapy and pep talks from my bestie Oprah Winfrey have cured me of this humiliating and exhausting disorder—some residual phobias have remained.

Three phobias, to be exact.

1. Elevators
2. Airplanes
3. Dentists

These fears are the last surviving men in an otherwise obliterated species of frenetic soldiers who pounce on my nerves and make me want to crawl under my covers. While I’m steadily working to overcome my fear of elevators and airplanes—I’m not exactly being given the opportunity to plan my attack on dentists.

See three – er—six months ago, I went to the dentist and was told I had four cavities.

FOUR OF THEM.

FOUR HOLES OF DECAY IN MY OTHERWISE GORGEOUS ENAMEL.

I had never been so shocked in my life. I’m not a cavity sort of girl. I’ve never been to the principal’s office. I’m my mother’s pride and joy. I’ve never gotten a speeding ticket. A cavity was an unthinkable travesty. How could I get into such a fray?

Sure, at my cleaning before this one my dental assistant was all, “OH GOD, YOU’RE LIKE ‘THIS’ CLOSE TO DYING OF GUM DISEASE!”

And so I studiously attended to my ailing gums, and at the same visit I went for my cavity announcement I was told that my gums were once again perfect specimens of health.

So these cavities were unexpected. And they filled me with terror and rage.

How I should have reacted:

Oh, drat. Well, I guess I’ll have to schedule a—what is it? A filling? Right. Well I’m not sure what the exact process of that kind of procedure is, but I’m sure it will be fine and also painless.

How I ended up reacting:

WHAT DO THEY DO WHEN THEY FILL A TOOTH? WILL IT HURT? AM I GOING TO DIE? DO I HAVE TO BE AWAKE FOR THIS? OH GOD, WHY IS THIS HAPPENING? I DON’T LIKE METAL TOOLS IN MY MOUTH. I DON’T LIKE LOUD NOISES. I DON’T LIKE BRIGHT LIGHTS. THERE MUST BE ANOTHER WAY!

When I had my first cavity filled I may have cried, and wailed, and carried on screaming like a four year old would. I may have demanded that we stop. The dentist may have demanded that we continue. I may have already had a valium at this point. The doctor then may have suggested that I visit a dentist who could properly sedate me. I may have agreed and covered my face with my hoodie while the dental assistants stared at the crying, screaming 20-year-old patient who just got a simple filling.

Then I just may have waited about six months before a striking pain in my gums forced me to call the dentist.

And now I may just feel like the world’s biggest imbecile because I may have to get a root canal.

This also means that a large sum of my savings will now go to IV sedation to get me giggly and or unconscious enough for someone to come within a mile of me with a drill.

So now I sit here with aching gums and much regret; both for eating several sugary cookies at an orthodox bat mitzvah last night and also for allowing my debilitating fear of being awake in a dentist chair overcome me.

THE UGLY FACE OF REGRET

Did you know that coupons are, like, free money?

Yeah. Apparently you can get them online, in newspapers, and when you hand them to the cashier at Publix they’re all “You saved $16 and bought fantastic red hair dye.”

This is almost as exciting as that time I discovered Wal-Mart.

I’ve led a very sheltered life. Don’t judge.

Seriously though, R.J and I have been prepping to take the plunge (No, not that plunge. The lets-sign-a-lease-together plunge) and trying to figure out how to afford rent and food. Coupons happen to be quite an excellent solution that dilemma.

I’ve been using www.familysave.com to get my coupons for right now. They have a big directory and then they mail them to you– Which is a good thing, because I tend to rip the barcode every time I pull them out of the Sunday section.

I’m most excited about the foundation I got the other day. The store was having a 2-for-1 special and I had two $2 off coupons. Which means that I got two bottles of foundation for the price of one, and on that price I got $4 off. INCREDIBLE. I’M WOWED—ARE YOU WOWED? Well, I’m wowed. Maybe coupons aren’t your kink, but they’re certainly my new thing.

I even bought a snazzy organizer. To be snazzy and also organized in a money-saving fashion.

Man. I’m going to be the coupon saving girl.

And when we’re all moved in, our friends will visit us at our new apartment and they’ll be all—WOW! How did you afford that giant flat screen TV and fancy, but useless four option toaster? And I’ll be all like, “Our food bill this month was like negative zero dollars.” And they’ll be all, “Gosh, that’s why you’re so thin! Let us take you out to dinner, you stylish-yet-destitute child!”

Yeah. This is going to be great. I can feel it in my $0.50 off Lactaid milk.

Growing up, the advice I got from most authors was: Don’t do it for the money. There is no money in the publishing industry.

It was that sort of disheartening advice that almost made me want to stop writing, because no matter how passionate I was about the art—I was more passionate about having clothes on my back and food on my plate. I felt concerned that I would do the work I was passionate about, only to fall deeply into debt. Or worse, I would move away from this field and do something I didn’t enjoy, simply to maintain a semblance of my lifestyle.

I chose to keep writing. During the first four years of my career I worked my butt off writing articles, books, and doing interviews and during those four years I made exactly $20. (Which was really only because I sold an ad alongside a review I did in a teen magazine!)

Twenty measly dollars. Was this going to be my yearly stipend as a professional writer?

The problem, I realized all came back to that advice I’d been given to not expect money. If I didn’t expect money, I couldn’t receive it. More importantly, if I placed so little value on my talent—how could I expect to incur any monetary value from it?

The fact that so many young and talented writers suffer from the delusion that their work isn’t worth being paid for—either because they enjoy doing it, or believe  it isn’t equal to a dollar’s value—is the very reason that they won’t get paid.

Not being paid for writing pieces is a cycle in this industry that has to be stopped. Writing is a profession just like any other. We work to produce a product. Just because we enjoy making it, or it is cathartic for us doesn’t mean that it should go financially unvalued.

For me, the obstacle that stopped me from getting paid was not asking for payment. When I sent out introduction letters to editors and publishers I never mentioned a rate. There was no discussion about it.

I was so excited to have the opportunity to be a published author (an excitement that dwindles magnificently in the face of rent, grocery, and gas bills) that I never sought any further payment besides my own delight. Big mistake!

Once I started valuing my work, the more valuable it became, and thus the more indignant I became when I was asked to do work without pay. Writing is one of the hardest professions. We are asked to synthesize information and output it in an organized way. This is not a monotonous, repetitive job by any means. It’s mentally laborious, and driven by focus.

To operate under the mindset of “Well I like to write so I don’t need to ask for money to do it,” Is the same as watching your housekeeper scrub your bathroom floor and when you go to hand her the check she says, “No, it’s alright! I enjoy bloodying my knees to keep your tiles clean!”

Many people derive pleasure from their jobs, but a job is still a job.

Consider this: For every writer who does their work for free, a writer who seeks payment is denied. (Why pay for what you can get for free?)

I urge all young writers to invest in the future of their careers (as possible sources of income) to stop accepting non-paying jobs.

The publishing industry doesn’t have to be a thankless one, and writers don’t have to be penniless and destitute–Which is a relief; because $20 doesn’t even begin cover my Skittles and Chex Mix addiction!

This summer I’ll be releasing my first book. The Girl’s Guide To Getting Pregnant.

Mom, put down the shot gun—you’re not a Grandma just yet.

The Girl’s Guide and the series of books to follow are being written for MD Conceive, a fantastic company which produces women’s health products. These products are specifically geared towards helping women with fertility issues get pregnant. MD Conceive started out as work, but has become something very near and dear to my heart.

I’m one of those girls that knew she wanted kids pretty much from kindergarten. I scare R.J with it all the time. I have several baby names picked out. I’m that kind of chick. What I love about MD Conceive is that it’s for all kinds of chicks. Even chicks that didn’t start picking out their kid’s cradle in the cradle.

Did you know that your chances of being infertile increase at age 35? Many women don’t, and it’s our products which give women the optimum shot at conception.

The Girls Guide To Getting Pregnant is just the first in a line of kits that will help women get pregnant, stay pregnant, deliver with ease and enjoy their first few months of being a mother.

I’m so excited to be involved with the company, their fantastic, innovative products and the wonderful people who produce them.

For more information on the line visit www.MDConceive.com and stay tuned to this page for more information.