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Tax Return Season

  • Posted on February 24, 2016 at 3:53 pm

In the United States of America, we pay taxes every single day. On the money we make, on the money we spend, on everything, just about. These taxes pay for our roadways. They pay for our city ordinances and libraries and public schools. They pay for the indigent health care that is the only health care I currently have. These taxes give disability payments to those who cannot work and welfare payments to those who can’t find work. These taxes give food to those who cannot buy their own.

In short, these taxes help save lives. A lot of people disagree. A lot of people feel we pay way too many taxes. To these people, I ask, what do you expect? What can be done without money these days, and where is the government meant to get that money without our support as citizens. You don’t complain about the tax money when it comes to the properly-paved roads, only when there are holes in them. You don’t complain about the libraries that provide the homeless with places to be during the day, until they close down and the homeless stand on your street corners. You don’t complain about law enforcement, until they’ve pulled you over. To the people who complain about taxes, I say this:

When you check our a book at the library, you’re asked to return it on time, correct? And when you don’t you pay a fee. That fee then goes to the librarians salaries. The librarians who help you find and check out books. That fee goes to the lease on the property that library sits on. That fee goes to purchasing new books. That fee goes to holding classes for those too poor to attend college. That fee is useful. So I never complain about paying the fee on a book I kept out too long. After all, if I didn’t want to pay the fee, I just wouldn’t use the service, would I? Taxes are just like that. If you don’t want to pay the taxes, move somewhere else.

The bright side to taxes comes down to this, however. And this bright side is Tax Returns.

So basically, the idea is, you pay exactly your fair share in taxes. Sometimes, however, because of the way the system is set up, you accidentally over pay! So, the government, after you file your taxes, and they double check their math, sends you a check with your tax returns!

It’s a little like hitting the lottery. I knew a family that when they filed their combined taxes, they got a return of $3000 dollars. My best friend got a return of around $1500. I’m getting close to $1200 dollars back this year. Last year, I only got about $500 dollars back. But what do you do, when you have a ton of money coming to you in one lump sum?

Some people, like a girl I know from work, payed off her credit card debt, and then bought a $300 purse. My best friend paid her son’s tuition for his school, and then bought her husband a giant tv. (and gave me the smaller one! Yay!) I know one friend who is planning to save it until Comicon in the summer, and spend it there. So what’s the right strategy when it comes to using your tax return?

Personally, I intend to make sure my tax return works for me this year. I don’t want to fritter it away on purses or food or anything like that. I really want to make sure I spend this money wisely. So I consulted some articles. Some, like Money Crasher’s article, were filled with a few good ideas, but mostly bland options. Others, like TurboTax’s article, are filled with more whimsical ideas. Personally, I like the idea of funding a business.

For almost a year, I have been considering starting an Apiary. Often, with a $500 start up cost, you can get a decent 3-4 hive Apiary going. Enough to supply honey for a small shop. I’m thinking of it as a great way to make sure I have revenue coming in in the future. A second blade, if you will, were I to use terms from Assassination Classroom. It would be difficult, of course, to run a business, work full time AND attend College. Which is what my plans are for this year. However, it’s going to be worth it.

My other plan is glasses. My own are wearing down, and I can barely see. Glasses, when one doesn’t have insurance, generally cost anywhere from $500 to $1200, depending on your perscription and the frames you chose. I may just ask them to reuse my frames.

In general, however, this is how it always goes. I pledge to myself I will spend my return wisely, and then it’s gone before I know it. Hopefully, this year, my return season goes better than last, and hopefully, yours too. Tell us what you plan on spending your tax return on  in the comments! If you live in a country that doesn’t do tax returns, tell us how your tax system works! I’m very curious.

First Light

  • Posted on October 17, 2014 at 12:29 am

Memory is a fickle thing, inherently wrong, yet personal in the greatest of ways. All of our memories are biased, based upon information our mind stores and corrupts. Stories we tell ourselves become memories, despite never happening. Things that happened turn out a different way when we think back on them.

Most personal to us all, and most telling of whom we will become, is our very first memory. The first bit of light our mind stores away for us in the world. These memories hide from us, little snippets of time. And then, like magic, a scent, or a sound, the touch of a familiar fabric, or the hum of a certain frequency reminds us, and it comes crashing back like nothing was ever missing at all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The prickly poking of hay. The scent of his mother, soft and creamy like milk just warmed up, and the sound of his father’s quiet voice. Later, Dirk would learn that the conversation was their first discussion about whether they should go back home to Thosfig, back to their tribe. His nose itched, and he rubbed his little fingers against it to make it go away.Noticing how sharp his little fingernails were, he curled them into his palms. Crickets chirped somewhere, and he could hear crackling, like fire. His eyes felt heavy, and he didn’t want to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Pain. Yumil remembered pain first. A too-tight grip of an adult hand around a small wrist. The red of lines cut into child-soft skin by fingernails dyed with pigment from berries.  Yumil remembers looking up at her, her tawny hair shining in the sunlight. She is beautiful, and frightful. She calls him a bad boy,voice hissing. Yumil feels his stomach twist and clench, fear climbing inside. She is angry, and to Yumil it’s as if she has always been angry and will always be angry. He finds anger burning inside himself to match, hot and terrifyingly close to tears.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She can’t remember the words anymore, but Eamon remembers the soft feeling of her mother’s chest. Her cheek fits against it perfectly. She remembers the hard push of her sister’s knee against her own leg, and the laugh in her mother’s voice. She recalls the lines of her sister’s hand and how it felt to rub her thumb along them until Lette shrieked with laughter, like it had tickled her. Eamon remembers how warm she felt, wrapped up in the two of them. A mix of flowers and cool water always brings this memory to her mind, and she smiles.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Grass tickling her nose, and a small round bug crawling along between the blades. Red like string scattering across her vision, as she was lifted from the earth. Her hand still reaching out for the little black bug, bigger hands tight against her ribs They squeezed a little painfully, but only enough to make her whine in the back of her throat. A murmur of her name, and Lette looks up. Her father’s green eyes smile down at her like the water of a murky lake. She smiles back, and giggles. His hand, scratchy with callouses, brushes back her hair.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Blurs moving past him, dark things swimming around the edges of his vision. Espin remembers crying, crying so loud and so long that he was sure no one heard him. He remembers unpleasant smells, something he later knows is the smell of sickness and waste. He remembers the crying making it worse, stopping his nose and how panicked he felt. A cool hand on his forehead was all that kept him awake, and he cried, and cried. Sleep would be kinder. His stomach lurched, and he felt hotness sear his throat and splash out his lips. Nothing eases his pain.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Her big brother’s back, warm and strong. Anelace was tied to it, she could feel the soft cloth against the back of her neck, feel the bounce of his step as he walked. He talked to her, telling her stories, and she burbled back to him. Her fingers found his coarse woven dreads, tugging for attention. She remembers how he smelt like sunshine and camels. He was so big, and strong, he carried her like she was smaller than an ant, and it made her feel small and she thought he must be the most powerful thing in the world.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

She was always angry. So angry. His mother was angry at him, yelling and screaming, and Jorgan hated yelling. He wanted to hide and forget. It made him cry, which made her so much angrier. She called him hurtful things he can’t remember later, things that might be true. Her palm struck his cheek, and his world went spinning. Pain blossomed in his jaw, his teeth rattling, as he toppled over. His cries came louder. The snap of a belt made his chest squeeze, and fear silenced him. His father’s footsteps, shaky and unstable, curled him into a tight ball.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

What glimpse does this first light give?

photo courtesy of flickr.com

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