Tag Archives: Writing

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College Graduation

When I graduated college, our class sat on while all our speakers went up to give us something inspirational. Well, we waited for them to give us something inspirational, but it ended up we got a reality I’m sure we didn’t expect on a day of celebration. One speaker started off by saying “Normally I say to expect the greatest out there with your degree, but the truth is you’re graduating at a bad time in our economy. Best of Luck graduates, you’ll need it.” The sad truth of our times, it’s not a great time to graduate unless you picked the right degree and got the right amount of luck.

I expected it. I knew when I dropped my Education major and went full major in English; that I was going to have issues. I also knew that I wasn’t going to be happy going into that field, and the classes made me miserable. I also knew that dropping out wouldn’t be an option, so I went head on into my English classes, and graduated with a shiny degree in English. A seemingly laughable degree, something everyone gets to laugh at anyways.

I remember being in an English class, and one of the Education majors was sad. Her daughter is going to school to get an English degree at a fancy college. She felt it was a waste of money, what could you possibly do with an English degree? Of all people to say that to, she says it to an English professor. I laughed a little at the idea she would say that to him. He also laughed, but responded back with “There are worse things in the world, like being a philosophy major. Not by much, but it is.” So true.

It really is though, because you can’t quite teach with an English degree unless you get lucky to get into a private school. Then, you can’t really get into a job at a Wal-Mart or another department store because you’re “overqualified”. Really because of your fancy degree, they just don’t want you to want an actual pay rate or the fear of you leaving for something better. Assuming there is something better.

People aren’t so lucky. We tell our children to go to school and you’ll get a fancy job. Adults go back to school to get better opportunities than they had before. But times changed. Getting a degree doesn’t guarantee you anything but a pride of achievement. A pride of achievement that you’ll be paying back for the rest of your life, with that minimum wage job you get if you’re lucky.

I’m by no means saying that you shouldn’t go to college. Education is something no one can take from you. I’m saying a lot of people can relate to this. Sometimes following dreams leaves you behind, and you’re left with a lot of time on your hands and you’re not making money. I get to write, I get to be with my family, I was lucky. Some aren’t as lucky though, and I hope things will get better for them soon.

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Flame Hair

You can’t accuse me of not just holding my nose and diving into things. Well with the exception of actually diving into water, I never learned to swim. I follow sometimes silly whims, because somehow even the tiniest one makes me think I’ll regret not doing it. And I always say “no regrets”, so I take it harshly when I pass on something. Mostly because I have a fear of looking back with regret, and I know that’s silly.

So when I unexpectedly find myself in the salon, I tell her “get rid of it all”. I have no specific aim of what to do with my hair; I just know I want it gone. So, with my usual “surprise me”, it’s all gone and I’m happy. Until I look further at it, and realize how bored with it I am. Maybe a change, I suggest to myself. Something new, something I’ve never attempted but might end up hating. Despite everyone saying no, I did it. I went to another salon and said “make me a blonde”. I’ve been known for my red hair for so long, I just needed it gone. After 3 hours of both myself and the kind hairdresser going insane over the seemingly innocent and deceptively challenging request, I looked in the mirror and there it was.

She turns to me, “So… um, do you like it?” She looks at my unsure face. “Because you don’t look so sure.”

I wasn’t sure. I’m still not sure. Maybe it’s the fact I look like a grown up, female version of Johnny Test. Red remains at the very tips of my hair, and I feel like I need to actually wear make up to look less funny. But, I did it. I tried something I never had before, and quite likely won’t ever do again. Maybe because it felt like my was hair on fire, and I’m not sure it’s because of the chemicals, or that she seared my head with hot water. Not just hot, but I’m pretty sure she could make tea with the water she used.

The push to do this was a result of a conversation with the moms at the bus stop. They were astonished that I had chopped off my hair, though I wonder why since my hair wasn’t very long to begin with. The shock on their face when I stated that “I don’t really care what my husband prefers”, wondering if I was afraid he’d leave me. No, I’m not afraid he would because if he left me over something silly like my hair, I’m not entirely sure I’d care enough to miss him. Then an equally shocked look on their face when I said “I might even go blonde today”. It became internal pressure to do it, to show that hair can grow back or get dyed back. It’s no big deal.

They seemed scared of change. They were in awe that I just did whatever came to mind. I can check one more item off my list of “stupid things I’ve never done”. I’m neurotic enough to regret not trying it, because I think if I can talk myself out of trying something so simple as a new hair color, what else will I talk myself out of doing? Sometimes I just need to make a change, and I don’t want to look back and say I didn’t try.

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Fears

I’ve always wanted to write. I remember being in the 4th grade and winning a prize for writing. I needed to write a story, a page or two long on any topic as an assignment for class. I ended up with 10 pages and in the principal’s office. After being terrified, I remember she told me that I had a gift and gave me an award. In the 7th grade, we had to write poetry for a teacher of ours that was dying, to make a book for her to read while she was sick. The next year, I was one of the selected ones to read my poem at a dedication for the computer room being named in her honor. Since then, I do often get praises for my writing, but things are different now.

It’s easy to write freely and not worry when it is an assignment that needed to get done. Getting praised for doing something you’re supposed to do, but when you don’t have an aim, a teacher to turn your work into it becomes a want and not a need. What is the purpose of the writing? Who will ever read it? Could I make it something I could live off and follow a dream? Not likely, the odds are you’ll starve as any sort of artist instead of being successful.

That’s what makes writing scary now. I don’t have a purpose for sitting around typing out words that few people will even bother to read. Now you’re being judged on a larger scale than a teacher, or a reading you had to do as part of your writing assignment. You’re not just being judged on the story, you’re being judged as someone who decided to make an art as your dream goal instead of following a more accessible and profitable one.

I’ve been compiling short stories and poems for an anthology I don’t know if I’ll ever finish, not for a lack of trying but for a fear of rejection. It was easier back then; I was a stupid kid that did whatever I wanted. Now everything’s changed. It’s always a terrifying thing when you have to decide if you want to follow your dreams, because dreams end effortlessly and can ruin you. Well, maybe the idea would just ruin me.

It was to my surprise that I opened up my email to a website that offers a challenge to aspiring writers. Write a 50,000 page novel in a month’s time? I sat on the email for a week, maybe a month, deciding whether I should chance this. There’s no prize, there’s no one that will even read it. It gives a goal and your match the deadline. It’s almost like an assignment for school; would it really be so bad? When I had this fleeting sense of hope and strength, I signed up. The worst thing that could happen is I fail the goal, but at least I tried. I think I’d rather try than wonder why I didn’t. In fact, if I do succeed, I’m going to do the script challenge too.

(For anyone who cares or interested, the site is http://www.nanowrimo.org/en/dashboard.)

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Differences

For a couple of years now, there have been “eggings” on my husband’s car. The occurred when no one was around to pay attention and the next morning we get an eggy surprise, which by that point was an incredible hassle to clean up. My husband gets angry for a few moments, and then realizes there’s nothing he can do but suck it up and clean up the mess. He doesn’t hold that anger, and repeats the process over again the next time.

This all changed the other night, and with that changed I learned a valuable lesson. I go inside to clean, while he wanted to clean up his car outside in the dark. Next thing I know, he comes charging into the house with a gleeful “I got those bastards”. Then he calls the police and stands by the window waiting, cheerful he did in fact, get those bastards. He begins to tell me what happened.

“I was cleaning out the car, and I see these 4 kids at the end of the driveway with their cell phones out taking pictures and laughing. Then I stood up and they saw me and rode off on their bikes. I walk over to your brother’s car, and saw the paint on there. So I ran in and called the cops.”

The police did come, and they did catch the teens. By catch I mean they saw the kids, and they didn’t confess anything and assured us they scared the kids so they won’t be back. I laughed, knowing the kids will be back, but I didn’t want to ruin my husband’s moment of glory. In reality, I knew the police couldn’t do anything to these kids, just make them clean it off and put the fear of God in them. I also know, teen boys are stubborn and defiant so it was pointless.

It did make me remember the biggest difference between us though. I wouldn’t have come in and called the police. I would sit for a moment and plot a way to get even with them. I would sit by a window watching anxiously for them to return to the scene of the crime to get their revenge on my husband’s “ratting them out”, so I could scare them. In my more youthful and stupid years, I would probably have grabbed the closest object to me, and chase after them. Then find their house and take it from there.

The point is, he’s a good guy. He’s generally on the right of the moral track. Me, I like to toe the line and end up where ever I end up. Which generally takes me on a line very dimly lit or across to the other side, depending on what I filter in my mind. We work though, because he stays on one side, and I like to pretend I’m a better person than I am. I think that he makes me better though. But I cannot lie and say I’m not considering a bb gun to go sniper on them when they show up again.

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Things I Learned Reading U.S.A. Today.

I learned that civil rights may have changed the world, however that doesn’t beat the iPod. While I love my iPod, I like equality more. I like that as a result of the Civil Rights movement, at least in the words of the law, we’re all equal. I like that I can marry my cliched soul mate now, which I wouldn’t have really been able to because he’s a different race. Though I would be in accurate to state we currently live in a world of true equality, at least we’re headed there soon. Hopefully.
Granted I say this, while away from my computer on my beloved smart-phone which probably wouldn’t exist without Jobs. But I love my Android more than I will ever love an iPhone, I love my iPod only because it’s better than the others, and I hate Pixar movies. I do appreciate Jobs art of not really creating anything new, but just making things a little bit better.
I didn’t mean this out of disrespect to someone who is a legend in his field, I meant this in awe of how we view importance in America. Personally I am more impressed by changes in our society that moves at a slower pace, than an impact on a field of technology that is in a constant state of change.
Today, reading the U.S.A Today I learned that the Tea Party and anything else political really makes me question ideals. Not just a little either, I really sit there wondering where people come up with some of this stuff.
Where do I even begin? It seems the Tea Party feels the government has too much control. They say the government over stepped its boundaries by mandating everyone has health insurance. As someone from Massachusetts, who has definitely felt the downside of this policy and doesn’t fully support it, I completely understand this. Then I’m stunned to learn most are Pro-life and seem to want to ban abortion. So, I try to talk myself through this. “The government can’t tell me to get health insurance, but abortion is a bad thing the government needs to ban”. Saying it aloud doesn’t make sense of it to me. So then I read most are against gay marriage. With that said, I can’t be told whether or not I have insurance but I can be told what to do if I’m pregnant and I can’t marry for love. Yup, I am sufficiently baffled.
Then I really read something that contorted my face into such a twist: there was a Tea Partier that felt we need to return back to the ideals of the constitution. Yes, I agree with you. Finally I found someone who made sense and they change my idea.of the tea party. Only then I read to a quote stating “no where does it say in the constitution that we need to separate church and state”. Really, no where?
I can forgive general hypocrisy of controlling citizens’ bodies. I can even forgive that they want to lessen government control and let states control their own education, but force schools to learn creationism alongside evolution. I can’t seem to ignore how the constitution doesn’t cause a separation between church and state. Unless I missed something in high school civics class, though I doubt I could even screw that up.
Something else I learned today: Being an American citizen that supports al-Qaeda is different from being a foreign grown one. In reading the Op-Ed section, one close to my heart because that and humorous columns were among my dream “to-do” list, I saw a reader comment on the American drone bombing of one of our own. He was angry that we decided to kill him without due process. He was an American, one of us. He deserved better. He deserves better than the other terrorists we stuff in camps to torture without due process? I remember people in an uproar when we started to try terrorists. I don’t understand the logic, at all.
The most important lesson I learned reading my complimentary copy of U.S.A today is why I avoid newspapers: Why I never read newspapers. I don’t think I learned anything of true value, except an incredible urge to become more cynical. That’s really what I needed, more reasons to feel cynical.

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Putting everything back together.

The remodel is done. The house I once knew is now transformed into something I don’t recognize. It’s new, and big and fresh and clean. It’s another reminder that often times things need tearing apart and left in shambles to become something more and something better.

But what does that mean? It means that sometimes you need a little destruction before everything becomes ok. Not ok, more than ok. The kitchen and bathroom were down to its core. They had to bring it to its bones and make it over. That’s what we all have to do sometimes, just take a step back and make something new, no matter how bad it was before. Even when things seem hopeless, restarting your life always seems to answer your problems.

Besides learning that important lesson the phoenix taught us, setting fire to something, brings a new life. Though, there was no fire unless you count the many times things have been burned in that kitchen. We learned another lesson: remodeling is nothing like you see on television. You see a house in shambles, dirty and in need of help. Suddenly (insert HGTV designer here) comes in, and in a half hour to an hour, a new house appears on your screen. The people cry in joy of finally having their dreams come true. They hug, and it ends. Sounds happy right?

However, much like when you watch Baby Story and actually experience your first birth, you realize that television is really fiction and nothing ever occurs like it does on the reality shows. The realities of what actually happens makes me wonder if I’m happy the house is done because it looks millions of times better, or if I’m happy because it’s done and my life is no longer disrupted by this. Knowing what I know now, I would really opt not to ever do it again. Ever.

First, when you redo your only bathroom, you’re making a gigantic mistake. Living out of a Port-a-potty is more disgusting than you can even begin to imagine. Then you have to shower at someone else’s home, which wouldn’t be too bad if you didn’t have to do it for a month and feel like an inconvenience for it. Did I mention the port-a-potty thing and how disgusting it is? It stinks, and it stinks worse when you get two weeks of muggy disaster. Oh and you get that one week in between the two muggy weeks of “freezing your butt off” because you live in Massachusetts and just because you have a muggy week, doesn’t mean the next week won’t require a winter coat for an early morning bathroom break.

Then you have the kitchen. Sure, it sounds fine and easy to adapt to. Just microwave everything, live off deli meats and take out. Of course, it doesn’t work out that easily either. The microwave just shorts a few every ten minutes of usage, taking out half the house with it. And the meals generally ranged from awful to tolerable enough to stomach out of hunger. When you cooked them, you when often times burn them as a result of the microwave blowing a fuse and you forgot how long it was in there before it went out. Best diet ever?

Now I can sit back and enjoy this. By this, I mean I get to pretend to sit back and enjoy it but really I now have to unpack everything and put it back in its place. We’re at the point of putting everything back together in hopes to forget the process and just enjoy the result. And the fact we have a bathroom that’s inside, a shower that’s ours, and a kitchen to cook something that isn’t Tyson or Hormel’s version of “home-style cooking”. We can enjoy our fresh new start.

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Which God is Your God?

They say two topics start the biggest arguments: religion and politics. Since I’ve already posted about my view on politics, it seemed fair to make a post about religion. I’ll warn that it’s going to make you laugh and feel bad while doing it or completely make you look at me like I’m a godless amoral person, which you’ll probably be right on. Instead of thinking too much about how I’ll be looked at afterwards, I’ll just dive right on in.

Anytime someone says to me “What would Jesus do?”  I usually have the same general response:  “Why would I do what Jesus did? He landed himself nailed to a cross to come back as a zombie 3 days later.” This is usually followed by a comment about the zombies he’s created. I wouldn’t label myself an Atheist though; I don’t like the idea of not believing in anything. If I had to, I would cross my beliefs in Agnosticism with a dash of Paganism. I don’t like labels though, so I usually just don’t associate myself with any organized religion. I believe that I’m far more spiritual in thought than I ever will be sticking myself with a “group” I don’t fully believe in. (Sound like my talk on politics?)

I don’t have a problem with organized religion. I don’t feel like people need to go to church and waste 45 minutes to 2 hours of their life listening to an old guy out of touch with his community preaching about morals. If there was a God, I’m certain that he’d have more concern over more important matters than whether you attend a mass every week. In fact, I’m pretty certain if he did exist, he’d have a lot more to care about than most matters that don’t involve harming another person or thing. Likewise, I feel if he did exist, he wouldn’t like the squabbles or wars that have existed or now exist to fight over which God is better. I also don’t think if he existed, he would want people to feel isolated and hated as a result of race, gender, religion, and sexual orientation. I would hope he wouldn’t care; otherwise I don’t think I’d want to believe in him anyways.

I grew up in a Catholic family. I was a good little Irish Catholic that attended my CCD every week, though I complained the entire time doing it. When it came time for my confirmation, I admit I made a mockery of it. In fact, my confirmation name was “Brigid”, the patron saint of Ireland who was also the patron saint of reformed prostitutes and unwed mothers. (I think the joke ended up being on me a year later.) Denis Leary once made a joke that the Catholic religion still stands as a result of spite. “If I had to suffer through it, my kids do too.” Inspired by that statement, my son attends CCD every week as I did, but it’s important to know that I do feel every kid deserves a shot to make up his own mind about personal matters like this.

My problem with religion is the same problem I have with politics. People fight over the main principles. One side is better than the other, though in the case of religion you have probably thousands of religions fighting over who’s right. Wars are fought over this all the time, and acts are terrorism as a result of differing beliefs is all too common. You could say my biggest problem with religion is extremists, but that’s my biggest problem of any kind. Realistically, I know that people will never agree on the “best” God. I don’t think there is a “best” God. I do hope someday, more tolerance will exist across all differences.

I think everyone needs something to believe in. I think if we lack a belief in anything, the world would be full of lonely, miserable people. When tragedy happens, sometimes people need something more. I think as people age, they don’t want to be depressed at the thought that soon they’ll be nothing more than ashes or a corpse decomposing in the ground. I know I’m happy learning about other religions, and realizing at the core, they are all exactly the same: they want people who “do good”. I also know I’ll proudly wear my pentacle tattoo, and I’ll proudly wear my Celtic cross. I don’t think I need to associate with any one religion to be a good person.

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Family, Pt. 2 “Family Duty”

All joking aside from yesterday’s post, the main point I was trying to make was simple: no matter what, your family is yours. Sometimes you want to hit them, or close your eyes and pretend they aren’t there. Even still, you know when it comes down to it, you’ll help your family out anyway you can. That is the point of family.

I learned growing up that whatever happens you help your family out however you can. My father would always say “that’s what family is for. When everyone else seems to turn their backs on you, your family will be there by your side”. Despite normal sibling disputes, if you’re lucky to come from a good family, your siblings will always be there for you. I know that I can count on mine if I need something. Hopefully mine would do the same.

When it boils down to it, I can’t even count how often my parents or brothers have helped me out without judging whatever stupid mistake I’ve done. I can’t count how many times I roll my eyes and wonder what they were thinking, but I still stand by them. The best part about family is that you know that you’ll get an honest lecture about your mistakes, but it won’t be cruel and they’ll do what they can to make sure you make it out ok.

The same goes for your spouse’s family. When you said your vows, you also vowed to take in their family as yours. I love my in-laws as much as my blood. His family was mine, and I will stand by him and his family through whatever needs handling. My husband grew up with the same ideals, when your family needs help, you help them. That’s one main reason I married him. Family is the most important thing.

If nothing else, take away the idea that your family will support you the best they can. It’s always ok as long as you know you have the love and support of your family. No matter how strange or dysfunctional they are, somehow they make it work out well. That’s how it’s supposed work. Pride shouldn’t matter; they’ll help and not judge you or look down on you for it. In the end, you should know that they realize you would do the same for you. That’s the point of family. Even if they are a lovable bunch of crazies.

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Family, pt. 1: “Please Tell me I’m Adopted”

This is a first part in a 2 part blog. This is my comical entry into a more serious one tomorrow. Enjoy.

How many times have you said that statement during a family dinner or any family gathering? Ok, so your family probably isn’t the Cleavers, but maybe on more than one occasion you have almost dreamt of using one on any one of them at any given moment. Perhaps that is a bit extreme, but certainly we an all relate to mocking those picturesque families saying “not in this lifetime”.

For many “normal” families, we relate better to those sitcoms with outrageous families. I know I look at a nephew of mine wondering if he was the real-life Stewie. Yes, I have compared my family to a cartoon, if you met him I assure you that you would feel the same way. Many students on campus probably have the same realization of their families, and appreciate the well deserved vacation living in their dorms as opposed to being at home.

When I first moved out, the near silence killed me. Naturally I refused to call home and admit I missed them, but I’m sure someplace deep inside I did. At least I can comfort myself by saying it anyways. Soon, I realized I would end up back home, and realized that maybe the “missing” I felt was more dread of being a 40-year-old living in my parent’s basement. At least I could look around and remember that I was given a sense of humor for a reason, and that this was just a latest addition to a series of obviously hysterical jokes.

However, how boring is life away from that dysfunction you hate to admit that is your family. Admit it, you miss the 40-year-old brother that moved back home again and left, or the brother that reminds you of Chris Griffin. That lovable bunch of crazies makes you pray that you are in fact adopted, but also makes you feel normal. Besides, we can always take comfort in the fact that there is always a family more bizarre than your own. *gasp* If not, you can always pop on your headset and blast your choice MP3 player and imagine yourself far away or in a really weird dream you are bound to wake up from eventually.

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Legal Robbery?

Like every other day, I check out my bank account to make sure everything is fine. Usually everything ends up fine, but yesterday wasn’t one of those days. Seeing a “-$490” dropped my jaw to the basement. Not the floor, the basement floor. How could this have happened?! My heart raced, oh what happened? Though it scared me, I needed to see what happened. I looked, and realized I shouldn’t be scared; I needed anger. And boy was I livid beyond extreme.

My monthly check I send to Sallie Mae for one of my many student loans was cashed. I’ve heard horror stories about people who set up automatic withdrawals from their bank accounts to their loan companies. So, most bills I pay online but with my student loans I take care that I sign the checks myself. Now, I realize why. They had cashed my $51.62 payment, and somehow between me sending the check and them depositing it, my check became a $516.62 check. I couldn’t believe what I was reading.

My first instinct was to call my husband to have him talk to the bank. My second instinct was to call them up and try being calm about being overdrawn as a result of their error. (Note: I did try being calm.) So I speak to a guy, obviously someone not in this country anywhere near the PA office I send my checks dutifully to. He comforted me, assuring me that he would start the process for a refund. A process for you to refund my money? You didn’t need to go through some lengthy process to steal my money, but I need to go through one to get it back? I fail to see the logic of this. If it took you 2 days to screw it up, I shouldn’t need to wait 10-20 days to get it fixed. This wouldn’t do.

Luckily, my bank is amazing. “Would you like to fill out an unauthorized withdrawal to get your money back today?” You bet I would. In fact, that would make me happier than you can imagine today. And with a swift sign of my name, every cent returned to my account. That wasn’t enough for me though, causing me to call the company back. I wouldn’t settle for less than a supervisor. I rescinded my refund with them, making sure I stated that my back was taking my money back from them. I also restated many times that this better not happen again. One can hope it doesn’t.

This led me to visit lovely Google to see if anyone else had this problem. Not surprisingly, thousands of posts on forums about how loan companies constantly screw over the people they lend to. Luckily I can afford my payments, though I’m well aware that paying them monthly doesn’t reduce the payments at all. It’s abhorrent they get away with this. I don’t think anyone likes that they can pay loans their entire life, to not be able to even dent your loan amount. Sorry, not your loan amount, the obscene amount that ends up after you get the loan when they tally up interest. And these are the companies that needed the bail outs.

It’s sickening that I have a $25,000 loan with one company, which really ends up being far more than that as interest. Even worse, I don’t even remember agreeing to a Sallie Mae loan. I feel ripped off. I feel like my money is stolen from me only worse; they can legally do this to me. It’s heartbreaking to see some of these people and their stories. They can’t get a job, and let’s face it, not many can in this economy; but now they have student loans that they can do absolutely nothing about but get harassed. You can’t file for bankruptcy to get rid of them. You really can’t do a thing to make them act less cruel. You can’t really do anything about them. They can just do what they do, and keep doing it because no one will stop them.

In reading all this, I came across this website (http://www.studentloanjustice.org/ ) and read about how they want to make the public aware of this. To me, this is a grassroots organization worth following. I don’t care about paying my loan. I care that they can steal money, and screw up credit without repercussions, even if the person didn’t do anything wrong. I also care that when you want help, all you get are rude people who don’t listen to you. Hell, I would’ve even just taken an apology for them and their $500 screw up.

That’s when it hit me. It’s not just about the idea of being robbed blind helplessly; a lot has to do with the people robbing you. It seems to leave less of a bitter taste in your mouth when the person at least apologizes, and not making you feel like you did something wrong. Maybe if they showed some sort of compassion of how they ruined your day and how maybe they need to be calm instead of rude or snotty sounding. Customers want to know that someone is listening without them having the urge to yell to get heard. Especially if those customers are well aware of the fact that no one will regulate the companies that are essentially scamming them. I would like to see a thief steal stuff from your house, and turn it around on you saying “maybe you shouldn’t have nice things, and I wouldn’t steal them”. The thieves wouldn’t get away with it, why should these loan companies.

I understand, the reason these companies make money is the large amount of interest you have to pay. I understand that any loan has interest on it. I’m not an economy major, but I know the reality. But somehow, car loans stay in business and you don’t look at your bill going “well, I started off with a $20,000 loan and now I end up with a $40,000 one”. And if you can’t pay it? They either repo your car or you file bankruptcy and keep it. You don’t get this option for student loans, and that seems vile to me.