What would you do if you won the lottery?

Wednesday, November 07, 2007 by Bethany

Last night I became quickly enchanted with a special series on TLC, Lottery Changed My Life. I'm already a junkie for Flip That House and various other home improvement shows (buying and selling a home creates this obsession. Too bad my brain hasn't caught up on the fact that we are no longer selling OR buying a home. But I digress). And last night, it just so happens as I was fixing dinner, Flip That House was on and was followed by this Lottery show. The show centered on what happens AFTER you win the lottery.

It interviewed all these people that (obviously) won the lottery and what they did with the cash. Interviewed were about 4 or 5 winners... age range from 21 to 65 or so. And what did I learn? Some people spend like mad and some don't. Which leads to our dinner conversation last night-- if you won the lottery, what would you spend the money on?

My husband was all about getting a fun 1970s vintage Ford Mustang for driving in the summer and maybe a BMX or Audi for everyday driving. I was all for just getting a bigger vehicle to card the kids and dog around (Mazda CX-9). But after that, we had the same vision. Likely live in the same house and do all the 100s of improvements we've envisioned here. And then we'd invest in additional real estate--but not new.

We'd look into finding a home on Lake Michigan here. Likely an older home that needs a lot of work--of which we'd have the cash to fix it up the way we'd like. And then we'd turn to a downtown brick commercial building. Or an old theater (there are a couple in town here). The plan would be the same, restore, rebuild, and likely make a loft up top of that building for our residence (we are fascinated with lofts). Would we sell some of this property? Maybe. And we'd likely rent. We'd mainly just enjoy creating spaces we love (which we do in every home we've lived in).

Which then brought on another little dilemma... with all this money, well, how would we keep our family at bay. Because as we know, once the world finds out you have money, they suddenly have a need for something. Or likely will try to become your new best friend. Not that we wouldn't share--it was decided we would give each CLOSE family member (as in immediate family members) a gift. That gift would be what they need most. That might be paying off a mortgage, buying a car, or a modest home, etc. This discussion then led to another one--what if you won the lottery and decided to stay anonymous. Meaning, live life pretty much as you do now.

This solution to winning the lottery was not only appealing--it was a fascinating subject. No one would know you had money. Lots of money. Would you keep your job? Both the husband and I agreed. No, we'd quit. But how would we explain a car purchase? Or say the purchase of a home near the lake to fix up. How could we afford that? We'd need a cover story. Mine was easy--freelance writer. I do some of that now. And technical manuals are an easy one to claim as my own, since, well, no one reads them. The husband's cover? Freelance web and graphic design. His own business (something he as always wanted to do anyway--and would with lottery money, so this was no stretch. And not such a cover story after he created the company would it?). Now it would appear that we were earning income (aside from a hidden lottery).

Sure people might talk that we are over-spending. Or wonder how successful we really are. But, it would at least curb our spending. We could keep a normal life, but still do some of the things we dreamed of (travel, fix up our home, live a comfortable life). And not spend too much of a good thing (and our kids would have college money and likely enough moolah to keep them comfortable for a while in life). In fact, this sounds so damn appealing--because honestly the publicity and headaches of family asking for money and comparing notes--we decided hell, it would be the way to go.

So, I have to go. It is time to go buy a lottery ticket.

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Lights, Camera, Action!

Monday, October 08, 2007 by Bethany

I always wanted to be an actress. And one could argue, I still do.

About once or twice a year The Husband graces me with his company while we attend a play, opera, or some sort of stage performance. Not that he wouldn't attend more of these sorts of events (he most definitely would) it's just that it entails getting a babysitter, and then planning, and then discussions about which one and where... and hell, the truth of the matter is we rarely get out of the house on our own. Even for dinner. Or even for a movie. So, we are left with our maybe-twice-a-year stage event that usually centers around a gift for my birthday. And maybe another for Valentine's Day.

Regardless, these dates remind me of my old passion. One that still sits in my gut and reminds me it is there at least a handful of other times throughout the year. Because it entails speaking in front of large amounts of people. Something--believe it or not--does not stress me out. In fact, it gets my blood rushing, heart beating, and... well, makes me hot and bothered. I actually like being the center of attention.

The joking. Connecting with the crowd. Speaking my mind. And the pure fact that people actually listen to what I say. What can I say? I am a glutton for punishment. Or to a crowd. Either way, that part of my life for the most part is gone. The part that in middle school tried out for every solo in chorus, every lead role in school programs, every play, community theater--I did it all. High school brought other challenges, but I was still going strong in forensics. And then in the small drama club. College, however, is where it all started going downhill. I took the only small theater class they offered.

Then was left to my own devices. I looked forward to class presentations. I found myself volunteering to speak in front of the class. Winter Carnival had me writing and then acting in the winter skits. But, at that point, that little dream of being an actress was down and gone. I mean, I was far from 5 feet 11 inches (I am 5' 5") and 110 lbs (let's just say it is more than that). I had short hair, a round face, and hips that were made for child rearing. Not that looks are everything, but in show business, it is. And, hell, I was from the Midwest. The Upper Peninsula of Michigan for crying out loud. It isn't like there are a lot of Broadway or Movie stars popping out of that area. Nor would my parents have let me spend hard-earned cash to go to college for anything like Drama. Hell, creative writing wasn't even an option either.

Not that it is any one's fault that I didn't pursue this dream (far from it). I was a realist. The chances of anyone like me making it in that scene were limited, and I knew it. And still know it. The fault is all mine. I can blame the money or the college, or the area I lived. But really, even if I would have tossed all those stereo-types out of the window and STILL tried for the dream (isn't that what we are told to do), it comes down to fear. As much as I loved doing all the on-stage work, I feared that I wouldn't have what it did take to make it. Or to put myself out there that much. Believe me when I say, there have been even more opportunities for me to jump up in front of a group. And in those few times, I sat in the background. I didn't raise my hand and offer myself to the group. Instead, I cowered, imagined what I might have said, and let the opportunity pass.

That doesn't mean I don't miss the feeling of being on stage. The rolling stomach. Anxious nerves that cause butterflies just as my foot lands on stage.

My meager attempts to bring these feelings back are just that... small, minuscule. And really just laughable. Did you know doing a presentation about our product offerings to a bunch of strangers in a hotel conference room can give me a "high?" Well, now you know my secret. That and this poor woman who always volunteers to give the group wrap up so she can speak in front of a group--yep, that is me. It is sad, but I'll admit it. Someday, when this writing career of mine allows me to publish a book, I'll be feeling the same way about a book reading. Heart pounding, palms sweating, I will take one deep breath, smile and walk my way up to the front of the crowd. But I hope, no matter how small the crowd, that I'll take the opportunity and let my words, my books, and my voice speak for itself. And maybe sequester those missed feelings of being on stage just a bit more.

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What would you do with $1 million?

Thursday, April 19, 2007 by Bethany

Really the question is, what would you do with $10 million?

When a CEO (or some high ranking business official) walks off a job for another they usually get some lucrative incentive plan to make the jump. The incentives range from special parking spots, stock, and more than likely a large chunk of cash. And this even applies to a high ranking corporate employee that gets kicked out of the gig (lay-off packages). What kills me with all of these *plans* is the pure sums of money.

I mean, really, if you were given $10 million to leave a position (or hell as sort of a signing bonus), tell me, why do you need to work?

Seriously. If you gave me $10 million to work with (as a severance or otherwise), I think I could find a whole hell of a lot of other jobs to do that would be a helluva lot more fun than my current day job (and, hell I *like* my job)! Arts and crafts crap I don't have time to pursue right now. A whole literacy and writing program for younger kids (that means everyone in from kindergarten all the way through high school). Or hell, maybe that independent bookstore (of coffee shop) hobby I think would be cool to start.

What 'bout you?

$10 million dollars... what would you do?

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