Mapgirl’s Fiscal Challenge

Alrighty. I am dragging this post out of my draft archives. I wrote it a really long time ago. But since Plonkee tagged me to write about if I was debt free.

You have to understand though that this is just some homesickness on my part more than it is about debt.

If you asked me what my financial life would be like, this would be easier on me emotionally.

1) I’d max out my 401k Contributions again.
2) I’d save for a Roth IRA.
3) I’d bulk up my emergency/get out of DC fund.
4) I’d get laser surgery on my vision. (Which still might happen! I’m going to refurb this body before I turn 40 dammit.)

But here’s the original post I had written. Reading it serves nothing but to make me sad, which I suppose is why I hadn’t posted it last spring when I wrote it.

Would people take my blog more seriously? Would I have more readers? Would everything I write be a pearl of wisdom that droppeth like the gentle rain from heaven?

Not bloody likely.

I could sock away all my cash and instead of paying down my debt, I could just run away to California as quick as my little feet would carry me. This week I had the first inkling of the nice days to experience this spring. The long thaw of winter seems finally to be over and it makes me so sad for the sunny days in California. I miss eating cherries at the Levi Plaza Tuesday Farmer’s Market. I miss sandwiches at Briazz. (Why won’t Paul Allen bring them to the east coast?)

I miss the funky roller disco dancers in Golden Gate Park. I miss the gym queens of the Castro and brunch at Cafe Flore. I miss the Mighty Wurlitzer at the Castro Theatre. I miss falafel at Truly Mediterrenean. I miss Breton crepes at Ti Couz, and shaken beef at Sunflower. I miss getting asthma attacks at Dr. Bombay’s while drinking ridiculously named fruity cocktails. I miss $4 super tacos at Pancho Villa. I miss raspberry lemon martinis at the Thirsty Bear, and the fish cheek tapas.

I miss my nephew and his funny faces. I miss his laugh and baby powder smells. I miss my family and wandering Golden Gate Park on endless strolls to the windmill and back to Haight Ashbury. I miss my skating coach and his nitpicks on my haircut because he was my hairdresser too. I miss the rocks on the beach in Bolinas. I miss the lighthouse at Point Bonita. I miss the sea lions listing and showing their bellies to us inside the St. Francis Yacht Club. I miss the view at the Carnelian Room. I miss the glass atrium at 101 California. I miss the scavenger hunt during the Chinese New Year Parade. I miss paying the for bus with little brass tokens with ‘SF’ cut in the middle.

I miss crepes in Berkeley. I miss skating at all the rinks around the Bay Area with my friend, T, who is not and will never be my boyfriend, but smells nice anyway when he’s not wearing smelly hockey gear. I miss walking through Berkeley campus, passing Strawberry Fields and going home on BART. I miss the jetty and the wave organ. I miss my old geek friends and all the crazy rack systems they had in their living rooms. I miss crazy cheap sushi at No Name and WeBeSushi. I miss Korean BBQ at Brothers, and the secret of going to the OTHER location to reduce the wait in line. I miss my favorite nightclub, 1015 Folsom. I miss the balminess of the fog on warm nights. I miss swing dancing at Cafe du Nord. I miss smoke free bars.

I know the city’s changed without me. I knew that last year on my visits back. It all looks different when you’re staying South of Market with your goth boyfriend who doesn’t hangout so much to eat violet fudge and buy pens and Japanese stationery at Kinokuniya.

If I had zero credit card debt, I could bank all my cash and go. I could watch my nephews grow up. I could smell their baby smells and giggle and coo with them. I wouldn’t have to wait for pictures to get posted to the internet or phone calls from their mommy and daddy. I could babysit and wipe poop and feed them chererios and sliced bananas. I could bug all my other cousins to have their babies so I can be auntie to all of them.

I really miss California.