We were at breakfast today at Porky’s, and our favorite waitress, Kristin, told us she is a writer. I was delighted – she has such enthusiasm for her own work, none of that “I like to write but I’m not very good.” So I was telling her about a reference book for writers called “Writer’s Market” – it’s an annual volume listing all the various outlets where writers can submit their work for publication.

When she had left the table, my husband asked me to explain again what it was, so I did, and I mentioned that I don’t have my 2008 edition yet because it’s kind of expensive. I told him I had been buying my annual copy every year for about the last 20 years. It’s a great browsing book, one that gives me ideas for stories and articles just by reading about what the magazines are looking for. He asked me why I keep buying it even though I don’t make a concentrated effort to sell much of my work. I told him the book is important for another reason… it was a reason I knew about in my heart, but had never shared before:

“Buying that book every year, even if I don’t sell a piece of writing, is a sign that I still think of myself as a writer,” I said. “It’s like hope. The year I don’t buy a copy of Writer’s Market is the year I’ve given up on that dream.”

At that point I had tears running down my face and my family looked a little stunned. “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t realize it was that important to me until just now.”

Of course, there’s no way I’m not a writer. I write three blogs, I write daily at work, I have a novel in progress. But the fact is, it’s nearly impossible to find time these days to capture a moment where I feel like I did the day my great-aunt gave me my first pine study desk, when I sat down and just knew what I needed to be doing for the rest of my life – even though I was only in second grade.

So the Writer’s Market is kind of a short-cut… a visual cue that reminds me of who I am, even though I can no longer sit at my little study desk and soak in the feeling. Without it, I’m still a writer… but I’m not a dreamer.

Suddenly Writer’s Market doesn’t seem so expensive.

When I had been working as a corporate hack for about ten years, I came to a point where I desperately wanted to own my own business. So in the mid-90′s when I was downsized out of hackdom, I took the opportunity to do just that – I did freelance business communications and marketing work under my own awning as Green & Company Creative Services.

For a few reasons, this only lasted about four years, and by the end of it I was glad to return to the (at least somewhat) secure and social world of cubicle dwelling. Since that time, I’ve taken it as a sign of hope that I continue to have a lot of ideas for businesses. Businesses that I’m certain will make me wealthy.

In just the past couple of years, I’ve thought seriously about starting a junk/thrift store, a t-shirt printing business, a biker leather retail store, an online gift shop, a house-flipping business, a mail-order food business selling giant brownies, and a private detective agency.

The signs that I am contemplating starting a new business are that I immediately brainstorm and purchase a relevant domain name, open up my copy of Paint Shop Pro and design a logo, and then rush to Walgreens to buy a stylin’ spiral notebook to record all my plans for that business. My life could have taken any number of these turns (maybe more than one of them, simultaneously!) were it not for the same roadblock presenting itself again and again:

Money.

Last year I had come up with several good ideas for t-shirts for women bikers. I went through the initial steps of domain name/logo/spiral notebook, and expanded my knowledge of PSP so I could effectively create my designs in-house. My research showed that I would either need to invest in some pre-printed inventory from a screen-printer, or in a commercial-grade heat press to make the shirts myself. I needed about $2000 to make it happen either way, but I quickly realized I did not have a source for that money. We had no savings, my husband’s business was in a very slow period, and I was fairly certain no bank would make me a business loan because of past problems with poor credit. (I’ve been working to rebuild my credit through our mortgage and a vehicle loan, but how do you know when it’s okay to ask for money again?)

I would have needed closer to $50,000 to really start the leather store – I sure as heck didn’t have that lying around, and wasn’t comfortable applying for a business loan in such a high (to me) amount.

Recently, though, I’ve done a little research and I’ve learned that an actual business loan was probably not my only option. An unsecured line of credit – particularly in a smaller amount – might have been the way to go because you don’t have to put anything up for collateral: the loan is made on your promise to repay, like a credit card. Unsecured loans are made by banks, consumer finance companies, and these days even online. The interest rate is a little higher than a collateral loan, but that’s the price you pay for asking the lender to take the risk. And, while I wasn’t willing to bet my house on giant brownies, I was certainly willing to make payments on a $2000 unsecured loan had I known I could get one.

So – perhaps business ownership isn’t completely out of the picture for me after all. I assume that lines of credit are a little harder to get these days, what with the housing market illustrating the dangers of making loans to high-risk buyers, but one day I certainly hope to be among the favored who qualify.

Meanwhile, I think I will stock up on stylin’ spiral notebooks, just in case my ship comes in.

Remember WalkScore, the website that lets you determine whether a particular house is within walking distance of various neighborhood amenities? It’s designed to help you learn more about homes you may be considering purchasing.

Well, now you can run another diagnostic tool called RottenNeighbor – this one allows you to look up surrounding properties and find out if someone’s complaining about the neighbors. Find out who’s got a Pitbull, who’s running a marijuana farm, and who’s just plain noisy or inconsiderate on the block. Be sure to look up your own address too, to see if anyone’s complaining about you yet!

As we get closer to moving Dad into an Assisted Living apartment (he’s back in the hospital, btw), the prospect of somehow disposing of his lifetime of “stuff” now looms nearer. He’ll be moving from a three-bedroom house (with garage and finished basement) into a one-bedroom apartment.

My brother and I have been discussing how best to do this for quite some time. The problem is, some of Dad’s stuff is the typical 50-years-of-housekeeping type stuff we all have like dishes, flatware, clothes and furniture. But he’s also a collector (meaning pack-rat) and has some collections of stuff that might be worth something to other collectors – if we knew where/how to find them.

For example, baseball. Dad’s a sports fan and has memorabilia and collectibles representing golf and baseball: everything from caps (some autographed), balls, t-shirts, jerseys, figurines, etc. Also, the 1979 Iowa visit of Pope John Paul II was a huge moment in Dad’s life. He has been a faithful Catholic his entire life, and he worked as Media Coordinator for the Pope’s Des Moines visit that year. He has a lot of “Pope stuff” (did you know there was “Pope Corn”? Yep, specially-packaged popcorn) – flags, figurines, etc. And owls – he used to collect Owls, back when he worked at WHO-TV. Basically, what he’s got is a lifetime of collectibles from golf, baseball, religion and broadcasting. Oh, and a large collection of Early American Pattern Glass goblets that belonged to his mother, one each of about 30 different patterns.

I’m considering getting a booth over at Collectamania for this type of stuff. An auction for the furniture and household stuff, and Goodwill for the clothing. Your suggestions welcome!

At first I was going to say, “the deer” – the deer must surely be God’s most annoying creature, for it does nothing to serve humanity and is really just a link in the food chain for the lesser life forms – all of which, if pressed, could most certainly find something else to eat if need be. And besides, there is a dead one in my dad’s back yard this week, and I couldn’t really think of anything that might be more annoying than trying to dispose of an eight-point buck with its hooves (do deer have hooves?) in the air.

But after this evening, I’m going to have to vote for the kitten – specifically, the kitten pictured here, which is now a full-grown cat – as God’s most annoying creature. Here are a few of the reasons why:

1. This cat listens for the first beep of the morning’s alarm clock, then charges full-speed into the bedroom and jumps on your stomach. What this feels like – is being sound asleep until you are whomped in the gut with a rubber mallet.

2. This cat zooms through the house using its claws for traction and leaps onto high-up surfaces such as the dining table and, as of tonight, a bookshelf which was teetering precariously even without a 20-pound cat barreling into it.

3. This cat routinely takes a slotted spoon and scoops out his own litter, sprinkling it all around the bathroom floor so it makes a fine layer of general uncleanliness and sticks to the humans’ feet. Until tonight, when I think he must have uprighted the entire litterbox to get enough litter out so he could pee on the floor and have plenty to cover it, thereby creating the single biggest and most annoying cat litter mess I have ever personally had the pleasure of walking through. Perhaps I would do the same if I were forced to poop in the same room in which I took my kibble; annoying nonetheless.