I’m guest posting over at A Holistic Journey. The series subject was money and I thought I’d discuss my dysfunctional relationship with cash. I cover Manhattan real estate, career mediocrity, growing up broke and Jean Genet.
Exile on Pain Street
Straddling the Hudson River. One foot in NYC, the other in suburban New Jersey.
Exile on Pain Street 
I am hopping over to your host’s place because, well .. you hooked me here, Mark.
I’ll give you a hook, alright. Right where the sun….awww, never mind.
I’ve decided on a 6 instead of a 6+. Thanks for your input. Very helpful, indeed.
Cool. Glad to throw my opinion around. Obviously.
I should send you a few bucks for services rendered. Come down to the Big Town one day and I’ll buy you a tony cocktail. How’s that?
Sold. See you there,
Read it and returned here, where I feel more at home. Cornelia Africana had a good line for a rich woman who was showing off her jewels. You have the good fortune to be able to use it yourself.
Hey! You weren’t spammed! This is real progress, you ape. If nothing else, I hope our technological relationship has been repaired. I don’t blame you for coming back here to post. It’s a zoo over there! Who ARE all those people?
A zoo. That a formal complaint?
For the record, I wouldn’t mind ONE BIT if my blog were the same type of “zoo” that yours is. Actually, I’d be pretty damn happy and stoked about it. Maybe one day…
Blogging is one area where we will never outgrow the possibility of greatness. =) Not attributing the word to myself so much as I’m spinning off your post.
“I don’t blame you for coming back here to post. It’s a zoo over there! Who ARE all those people?”
A ZOO, huh? WHO ARE THEY???
lol Who do you think they are?
Big 0 birthdays always do that, my 30th was one of the worst days of my life, I felt utterly done in, by my 50th I was much cheerier. There are zillions of people who didn’t begin their rise to greatness until well into their 60s and 70s, you’ve got a few more years yet.
You’re 50?! Get the hell out of town! You sure wear it well. 30 was blissful for me. I miss it. I miss being young. That’s not very Zen of me but we speak the truth on the web, don’t we?
I miss lots of things about being young, especially that all the time in the world feeling, and being able to wear short skirts, and heels. Heels kill me these days, I used to be able to run in them. Until not that long ago if I saw a photo of a beautiful floor, or couch or whatever, I used to say ‘one day’, now I know that day has passed. Unless I win the lottery, which I keep meaning to do.
Tell me about it. Heels kill me, too. Especially if I’m running late. My black pump got caught in a subway grate last week.
Oh…shit! Is this thing on?!
Funny, there’s bit in the next post on the Lounge about the wealthy… saw the post at the other joint, i was quite amused by some of those comments (especially from the wealthy types) Happy U.S. Grant my friend…
Popular subject. Money. Someone over there defended being wealthy and I’m okay with it. She seems to do a lot of good although she’s addicted to shoes, which could be a problem in the long-term.
i’m doing well, and can take those exotic vacations. i give a lot of cash, and even more time, to support things other than my holidays. i still feel guilty about it, though. i got lucky. sure, some early life sacrifices, hard work and all that, but it gets down to luck in many instances.
the true gift? i never worry about money. i will have enough. some of that is because i buy used cars, don’t need the latest gadgets and phones, and am just as comfortable staying in a Motel 6 as i am in a 4 star resort (5 stars makes me uncomfortable). My children are grown, out of my house and my wallet, so that takes away a lot of the worry…
you probably can’t shake it, but it’s good that you think about it and continue to try…
I live comfortably, which isn’t how I grew up. I keep thinking that my kids have no idea what it’s like to live in a house that had money problems. It permeates the air. It’s affects everything. If I keep a low profile and live below my means, they’ll never have to suffer those overheard panic discussions.
My Bride told me (through facebook) that Blogfather’s cats are relocating from London to Barcelona. Those felines are having a better time than I am!