I stopped saving.

There must be a hole in the bottom...all my ideas drained out.

wha happa?

What did I stop saving? – My ideas. I have to admit to all 43 of you that I have been busy wasting my ideas, prose and general quips like some people waste money. Please, allow me to illustrate:

Since November 10th, 2011 I have focused quite a bit on the Bat Mitzvah (yes – we’ll get to the savings schema for that in next week’s post… today’s exclusively for remorse, with a side of “I’m sorry” for flavor).

I have started another blog, with is taking off like gang-busters! It took me 13 months to gather you 43, and right now I am already clicking along at a cool 3 views a day. You have no idea how fast the super information highway can really be. Check it out: http://yourcookingcoach.wordpress.com.

I have felt stymied by schedule. Too much happens the year of the Bat Mitzvah. It’s not just the prep shit that bites you in the butt, or the money that is required to make it “just so and away we go”. It’s the world that is changing around you. And I have been taking time to observe it.. Observations like:

• Maude is her own person and needs to make her own decisions. Feh. (Who needs it?)
• I have scaly skin appearing on the tops of my feet (a sure sign of aging along with the 4 grey hairs on either side of my head)
• China is becoming a big deal. (I am not sure that that is bat mitzvah-year triggered, but I needed to somehow demonstrate for you that I listen to NPR and am therefore smarter than I used to be, which makes me head and shoulders above anyone named Sven.) Subtle… eh?

What I am sharing with you, my royal loyals is that I am having to choose between prose and pose (yes, I went to yoga today before I started composing.)

But today I chose both and I think that though this might be double dipping – I am willing to try to keep up the posting. Why? Because I think that the above three points will enhance my writing and honestly, I miss it. Also, case in point, I have heard from #24 and #36 (double chai) – and they miss my posts as well.

The decision – The cooking blog will post weekly – and so will Clutching Coins!

(Summary: Basically, I spent my ideas, funnies and observations on memories I don’t remember and a few on people who don’t deserve them… But that’s not you 43. It must have been the Swedes….) Down with waste, up with pros who write prose. Onward – Tally Ho!

New episode (#3) – Make it with me and it’s gonna come out ok – Red Curry Chicken!

New Cooking Show Episode – Make it with Me, it’s Gonna Come out OK

Don’t miss episode 2 – Spinach and Pomegranate Salad

Video is on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wpOuMycv5dI 

Ingredients:

10 ounces baby spinach

1 small red onion, thinly sliced

4 ounces feta, crumbled

1/2 cup walnuts, pieces

1/2 pomegranate, seeded

Balsamic vinaigrette  (see episode 1)

If you like it, laugh and enjoy – please post a link and share it. Be watching for a weekly show and new blog to house the fun! Thanks for watching. Nicole (the chef of the future)

Brown Bagging.

So it’s been a while since I wrote here on the old Clutching Coins. It’s not because I don’t have readers (you’re here aren’t you…) it’s mostly because of work. The place that helps me get the coin into my hot little hand. I cannot tell you what working a start-up is like … especially in a new industry. And you might think that I can’t tell you because the Swedish are listening, or because I wouldn’t want to bore you (not) or shock you (yes), but because I don’t think that its apropos to do so.

But I can tell you that I have missed spewing my heart out in the name of journalistic integrity  – gone cheap. I know that there are a number of topics people are looking for and they are:

• How do you save for a Bat Mitzvah?
• How do you start saving?
• How do you plan for a rainy day when it’s pouring right now?

I am prepared to be the guide toward golden greatness. Send your suggestions in and I will draft a personal somethin’-somethin’ for you.

But since I mentioned work and then coyly reminded you I would not discuss it – I thought it a good idea to take pen to paper on a work (but not work) subject.

Brown bagging.

Have you ever noticed that the more money people make, the less they bring their lunch to work? Let’s run a little math here…

These days you can easily spend $10 or so on fairly crappy fare. I recently asked two digital natives how much they spent on their grub and they let me know that today’s menu set them back $17 – EACH. Too pricey. Let’s say you’re conservative and you only “dine al fresco” 3 times a week (cheap-o). If I am not mistaken – that’s over $2600 a year (I am assuming that during your vacation to Sweden, meatballs will be consumed and they will run you a high tab).

Learn to make lunch. In fact, show #3 on my new cooking show will be “Lunches you’ll love to save with.” Don’t miss it! Just grab your lunch from the fridge and pump on the volume on your You Tube video. (Nicole is not only in the HOOWWWWWSE, she’s in the kitchen.)

Clutching Fame.

Since I was a little girl – I wanted a cooking show.

Now I have one. Please tune in and share often, Let’s get me to 1,000,000 subscribers and turning clutching coins and my new show “Make it with me, It’ll Taste Good” a hit online.

I promise to cook for you, and I am sorry I have been away… I’m baaaaaaaack.

Save, and stir on… N

http://youtu.be/zt2Aie9pfAw – Episode 1

http://youtu.be/AlPuFOuHe18 – Episode 2

Locked in a vacancy III

Where I will not be buying overpriced chocolates and sourdough starters.

It appears that I use this blog title a lot – for those just starting to follow along at home – check out Oct 7th and Nov 14th. Oy.

Today I am again stuck in SFO, awaiting departure. So far we are about 2.25 hours behind, but who’s counting? The time seems to be melting slowly, along with my skin, from the sun, coming through the non-polarized windows (can’t they make power from shit like that?)
Anyway, here I sit. Sometimes I buy candy (and collect the receipt as dinner) to pass the time. Tonight, instead, I decided to be ever present in this experience and observe my surroundings. My savings experience this evening is to not shop in “City by the Bay” but instead notice the people around me. I am playing a very fun game – all by myself – called “Name that Face”.

The rules:

Notice all the potential seat mates in the gate area.

Try and figure out what celebrity they look like – only they are warped from their “twin” in some way. So far I have found the following (10 points each):

Dumb Judge Reinhold

Young Robert Duvall

Hindi Henry Winkler

Gay Weird Al Yankovic (it might have actually been him – had it not been for the boat collar knit sweater with the navy blue button – down applets)

Short, ugly, fashion-challenged Aimee Mann

Thinn (er) Kevin dude from “King of Queens”

(3) versions of my boss – a short one, a fat one and a young one (must be a convention)

George C. Scott

Someone who looks like W. Smith (my friend). No.  she is not famous, but dated a few famous people so I get 5 points for her)

A Tina Fey impersonator (when you are professional like that… I am not sure you really get points, but you get my meaning)

An old Captain Kangaroo (Bob – where are you when I need you?)

A military ready looking Seth Green

A thin, tall John Lennon

This is how I spend my time. I am not spending money, I am saving my sanity. This while my family enjoys happy hour burgers at Serratto. Boy, ain’t travel glamorous?

Dude magnet.

About a year about I shared a deep-rooted truth about myself – I crave “the courtesy wave”. I even took up running, which is no good for my knees or ankles because, I, the athlete trapped inside a body of overweight proportions, needs the recognition of those other athletic types around me. (Need to brush up on my idiosyncrasy? See the link below – it’s one of my better posts):

http://clutchingcoins.wordpress.com/2010/08/18/the-courtesy-wave/

But honestly, I am not built for running. I am also not built for over-spending, but at times, I do sprint in both directions. I’ve admitted to myself, over the years, that speed can be traded in for longevity. I do the same with saving of course. I choose to slowly collect the pennies and spend the cash, without rushing into the purchase. But it doesn’t mean, that I don’t crave the rush.

Case in point? I went out today, for my walk. I have been walking a further distance to try to make a dent in the weight loss and today I was able to make it up numerous ascents and it was about 3-4 miles. I am used to be passed up by the trotters that spring by, during these musically scored interludes – just me and my work iPhone. It’s typical for me to see the traditional trek (aka drudge) crew – the other overweight ladies, the numerous Asian seniors who tottle the paths with me and a select few middle-age and older gents who grace my trail through Westlake. But today, things were a little different. Today, I was a dude magnet, noticed by every man on foot, bike or in-car. Wha’zz up with dat?

You might wonder what happened to turn so many heads and to be the noticed unnoticeable… I did as well. I took inventory of every variable to see if there was anything that was “different” and worth a glance (or 10).

Hair in pony tail? Check.

Same sports bra as always? Double check.

Special shorts? Nada.

Music too loud? Headphone silence.

So what gives?

I am sure I found the answer. My new t-shirt. I bought a new tie dyed top at Lane Bryant – which recently sent me a $20 gift check to spend any way I saw fit. So what did I buy? Well at first glance I thought I found three items for my free money, but I quickly learned that each of those would put me over the edge of my cashless currency and I would be out actual money I never wanted to spend. My threshold for unnecessary spending? $5. I will pretty much buy anything for $5 (or less). In the end – after shuffling hanger after hanger back and forth on the sale rack (ladies, I know you are with me) I found a pair of linen pants (who says they are a 16? They fit! ) and my new, priceless (literally) lime green and white tie dye t-shirt. Total spend? $4.95. For both items.

I am so thrilled with my purchase, and what it did for my social status on the trails of Lake Oswego. I got home and told Mitch to make sure he washed my new shirt on his day off, because it’s my dude magnet. No man can resist it. They did not wave, but they glanced. It’s a start, (even if they thought I was pushing Gatorade.) Maybe instead of having an electric personality, in my new shirt, I am simply the color of electrolytes. I’ll take it.

Sometimes you have to pay.

Reunited and it feels so good.

As most of my regular fans will know, I am opposed to paying for services. I am a creature of habit and that habit tends to be a DIY type of lifestyle. Case in point:

I cook my own rice.

I chop my own veggies.

I do my own windows (although we did recently re-engage with the cleaning lady to save our marriage. That is fodder for another post). But I do do the windows.

I shorten my own pants.

But some things are meant to be a means for others to earn. Some of those might be (and this is where tastes differ on the “slave to save” or the “tend to spend” -o-meter):

The guy who comes and cleans out the vent for the dryer. Very skilled and worthwhile. Came on Saturday and found (2) missing napkins and the directions for Mitch on how to wash Maude’s diapers (old laminated sheet of paper that will be carefully swiped down and stashed in the baby book).

The lawn guy. We live on a hill and Mitch has informed me that he would rather pull money out of his pocket than push the mower up and down the slope.

Dog grooming which includes caring for anal glands. (This requires no comment or visual diagram to be impactful and trigger self-conscious giggles).

And the #1 service to pay for in our book?  Paying the nice Vietnamese lady – who is not so secretly discussing your fat calves in her native tongue while her friend is scraping the caked dirt from your 12 year old’s toes. Welcome home from camp, sweetie! (BTW – didn’t we send you with socks?)

The Young Ones.

These are not your father's lentils.

This wonderful television series from 1982-1984 was originally broadcast in the UK and then it swam across the pond and into the homes of adolescents through the magic of MTV. Please note, this version of MTV (otherwise known as stimulating and creative breakthrough content) was before reality programming killed the video star. These 12 simple episodes brought three undeniable truths into my life – and these have shaped who I am to this very day:

I am a britophile. I can not pass up a person with a British accent. I have to gentiley (and that’s tough for me, the Jew) make my way over and ask them where they are from, explain how I lived there “years ago – haa haa” and that I worked in advertising on Tetley … (this puts me in the inexplicable categories of: droll, humorous and worldly.)

I adore clotted cream. Let me tell you that I think it triggered a love of blood. (Work it out.) (It as also triggered a size 16-18 pant size, depending on the cut.)

I associate lentils with cheap, nutritious food. Ah… she finally got the point of the blog posting. (Very round about, but in Brit terms… it’s called a “circle”.)

Tonight I was so pleased with myself over my dinner recipe – I did an interpretive dance (you can ask Mitch, he is still trying to decipher it.). For those who have dined at the Elovitz house in the past (for those of you who read this blog – I must have you over for a pot luck so as to lower my grocery tab…) we eat meat. Not every meal – but usually some beast’s flesh is on the menu. This can be expensive and therefore, for health reasons and budgetary ones, we challenged ourselves to go veg, 1 night a week (it’s supposed to be a whole day, but I forgot and ate a chicken named Kevin for lunch). Anyway, tonight was the night that we were / did go veg. Oh my gosh. Please take this culinary journey with me. Let’s get the data out-of-the-way. Eating veg is less animal fat in the system. That means less fat on me (supposedly.) It’s cheaper (that is why most hippie’s are veg, cheaper. It has nothing to do with animal rights, so don’t believe that shit). It’s fun and different from what you are doing now – so it can be considered “creative”.

On the Young Ones I learned of “the lentil”. No one in my family had ever tried them – so it was a new experience for me when we moved to Portland. I have always made lentil soup. In fact, I don’t think that I have ever done anything else with the lentils (by the way, I am referring to brown lentils, not french lentils. French lentils are delicate and when you burp them it is in “French“. Wi.

Also, I am not referring to red lentils that are used in Indian cuisine (you don’t burp those, you fart them, but I can’t spell “PSFFFFFFT” with an accent.) I am referring in this blog to the plain old lentils that Neil, in the Young Ones used to make every day, almost every meal because they were cheap and he was a veg (do you recognize my path of reason?).  For those of you who are afraid of the “lentil” they are simple little dudes who grow 2 in a pod (I did not know this) can be sprouted, soaked or boiled straight. You will not find them in a can (though many recipes suggest it) and you will have to by them dry in Portlandia and soak them. No biggie.

Tonight’s dinner, cheap cheap cheap was also yumola. I have posted, not only a picture of the finished product, but also the pix it is supposed to look like and the recipe. You can thank Real Simple Magazine for the deliciousness. Page 194 in the August 2011 edition. Blimey! Enjoy blokes! And save your pennies to spend them on something other than meat 1 time a week and reduce you food budget by at least $5-10 in a week! (If you do, you too, will have a special dance to decipher).

Sweet Ride.

Sweetness.

I have begun to think that having the oldest car in the lot has its privileges. It’s a special thing to me, to be the grandma of the automobiles. I tend to wear my 200K+ “driven hard and put away wet” vehicle like a badge of honor. (If henna tattoos came in Volvo medallions – I’d take two).

Some of the real bennies of owning this luxurious (in 1990) sedan are as follows. Tiptoe with me, if you will, through the proverbial tulips and smell the savings. (Please don’t confuse the smell you encounter with damp mold, its savings you smell, I swear.)

1. Conversation starter. Most people want to know how old the car is and was I the first owner. (This is easily translated to … do you have a sentimental crush on this battle-axe which is prohibiting you from acting like an adult and actually carrying a car payment like the rest of us.) My favorite zingers in these situations are:

“The layer of dirt is a protective shield.” (I wash it only 1 time a year – and I don’t even do it then. I usually ask for a washing for Mother’s Day (because it is a “mother” of a job).

“My car can legally drink (it’s over 21).”

“This is my way of sticking it to scrap steel collectors everywhere. I simply say, not yet.”

2. Folks assume you are handy. When you have an old car, people guess immediately that it’s a manual, that it pre-dates the 1st moonwalk, and that it’s fixable with a crank and some gum. Not so. I have an on-board computer too, just like your 2005 Acura, but my operating system is Windows 3.0.  I have power windows,  auto-locks and heated side mirrors. In fact, if it weren’t for my car, you would not have all of the features you expect and enjoy… because my car was the beta for most of these. Cup holders by the way is not one of the features. They came along in 1991. Rats. So close… Anyway, we can not fix anything on this car ourselves except the tail lights. Those are a snap.

3. Team lunches = less mileage to expense. No one wants to ride in my car. They all want to go in the shinier stuff. Can you blame them? Also, this is even more “true” in the summer, because I have no AC. I have to make big choices between June and Sept… radio, talk on my bluetooth or have the window down. I can’t do all of these things at the same time. I have started wearing the Jackie O kerchief over my hair. I am hoping I can start bringing that back into vogue.

4. Roomy parking options. Everyone assumes you have no respect for their car since it looks like you have no value in your own. They have no idea. Honestly. Foolish. I am more worried they will bang mine (or at least tap it and the wheel might fall off).

5. People are sure you are the millionaire next door. Anyone who has read the book knows that I fill the space between my roof liner and the metal frame of the car with old paperback copies of this incredible soothsayer’s work. (I also use a Bedazzler to jewel my ceiling which keeps the fabric from falling down and blocking my vision.) You can never be too careful.

By the way – for those who missed me and my posts… I’m back, Baby.