Stumbling through the rain with a ridiculously large umbrella and two gloriously stuffed envelopes under my coat, I opened the hatch of that blue steel box and mailed my tax returns away. Away, I say!
What a mess. Last year, I lived in Maryland and Michigan, worked in Michigan and Maryland, but not Washington, DC, collected non-taxable income, collected taxable income, and moved three times. Not to mention my loving but misleaded parents (again!) claimed me as a dependent, at the age of 23, so we'll see how that goes over with the IRS.
Speaking of the IRS, I'm a little peeved with them right now. In fact, an entire slieu of government agencies have gotten on my bad side in the last few weeks.
Now, before my rampage, let me reiterate that I don't align with any political party, and I don't believe that taxes are bad. Especially not when they go towards schools and public works and subsidized housing. So, it's not the IDEA of taxes, it's how they're used.
Let me begin with everyone's best friend in that stab-you-in-the-back junior high kind of way:
1. The IRS
My taxable income was less than $25,000 this year. I told the IRS to just take it. Take as much money as you want right now and I will just collect on my tax refund. I'm single, I have no kids, no obligations, cheap rent. This was a huge mistake. In addition to all that money that they (State and Federal) took out this year, they asked for an ADDITIONAL 3%. That's $750, kids. Last time I try to be straight-forward.
2. The FDA and USDA
What a monstrosity. Our food regulation system is so effing kaput. Peanut butter, spinach, tomatoes, and now PISTACHIOs. I hate you, food regulation system. If we're going to be readjusting our spending, why don't we help the FDA out on that whole Food side. Or, better yet, let the FDA dissolve into the MDRA - Medicinal Drug Regulation Administration and let the USDA dissolve into the AMPMA - American Meat Products Marketing Administration. Take the remaining pot and start an unbiased consumer-focused regulatory administration that will actually prevent salmonella outbursts instead of just mention them in a weekly news release.
3. The SBA
This narrow-minded beaurocratic nightmare focuses on government agencies not meeting Small Business contracting goals, and Small Business loans. While I think they have their motives, these efforts have no traction. Loans for start-ups? In this economy? How about resources and training on how to grow and diversify to become more resistant to recessions. Instead of giving scorecards and tssk tssk's to agencies not meeting the Small Business goal, why don't you give them a list of small business market research firms that they can contract with to grow their programs and include new businesses?
And on that note, every day I become more of an anarchist. Today is no different.
For now, I'll anxiously await news from the IRS. With any luck, I'll get a mysterious anonymous phone call, and a man on the other end with a calm, deep voice will say:
Congratulations on filing your taxes, you sheep.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Reinstate the Love Letter
This week I take 10 flights in 6 days. I'm halfway through now, and with all of the travel, the time changes, (4 time zones in 6 days...) and the hassle of rental cars, expenses, conferences and weddings, I found that layovers are the perfect opportunity to get back into my comfort zone.
No, it's not home. It's empty and full at the same time. Full of strangers: grown men crying over the loss of a parent, children running from their parents, spouses taking turns napping in the stiff leather seats. No room to be left alone, but all the loneliness in the world.
The terminals are ripe with characters for the mind's stage. It was here that I started writing again, after a long dry spell. It didn't start with a political blog or a rant about the shortcomings of congress. I didn't comment on the washed up celebrities in dark glasses that haunt LAX. I wrote a love letter. I used an ink pen and a notepad. And I read it aloud to my partner when it was finished.
With all the blogging, vlogging, facebooking and twittering that we do, as a culture, in DC, it was overwhelmingly pure to write something down again. No, not just anything, it was writing my emotions, my feelings down that seemed so pure. I felt like a poet, a Thoreau in my own version of the wilderness. The burden of politics, as only a DC resident can feel, floated away.
I've had this feeling before. I kept a journal through my travels in Russia, documenting my heartbeat as the plane landed in St. Petersburg and I finally saw those heavenward-reaching birch trees, as a nationalistic rally raged and our tour guide was assaulted, as the pungent aromas of dill and honey mixed in the open market and I was called "Senora" for the first [and last] time of my life.
So this morning, on flights 7 & 8 of my travels, I will bring a notebook and an ink pen, and see what happens. I encourage you to do the same, especially if you find that you're starting to hunch because of that DC weight.
No, it's not home. It's empty and full at the same time. Full of strangers: grown men crying over the loss of a parent, children running from their parents, spouses taking turns napping in the stiff leather seats. No room to be left alone, but all the loneliness in the world.
The terminals are ripe with characters for the mind's stage. It was here that I started writing again, after a long dry spell. It didn't start with a political blog or a rant about the shortcomings of congress. I didn't comment on the washed up celebrities in dark glasses that haunt LAX. I wrote a love letter. I used an ink pen and a notepad. And I read it aloud to my partner when it was finished.
With all the blogging, vlogging, facebooking and twittering that we do, as a culture, in DC, it was overwhelmingly pure to write something down again. No, not just anything, it was writing my emotions, my feelings down that seemed so pure. I felt like a poet, a Thoreau in my own version of the wilderness. The burden of politics, as only a DC resident can feel, floated away.
I've had this feeling before. I kept a journal through my travels in Russia, documenting my heartbeat as the plane landed in St. Petersburg and I finally saw those heavenward-reaching birch trees, as a nationalistic rally raged and our tour guide was assaulted, as the pungent aromas of dill and honey mixed in the open market and I was called "Senora" for the first [and last] time of my life.
So this morning, on flights 7 & 8 of my travels, I will bring a notebook and an ink pen, and see what happens. I encourage you to do the same, especially if you find that you're starting to hunch because of that DC weight.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Obama Closing Gitmo
This morning, new President Barack Obama called for a suspension of trials at Gitmo.
To be honest, I was a Michigan voter, I didn't get the chance to vote for Obama in the primaries. My vote went to Dodd. I worked for a labor union that endorsed Senator Clinton during the primaries, and, as part of my professional obligations, I worked in Indiana on her campaign. This is a wholly separate story, but rural Indiana was going for Hillary anyway.
But then I saw the Yes We Can video for the first time, and I understood the movement of the Obama Nation. I did not work on his campaign, except for occassionally helping my office put together a few yard signs, and post a few blogs and articles. I did not stomp for him, and I did not put my whole life aside for his campaign. I could have done more, and many have and will continue to argue that I should have.
My response has and will continue to be that I am a young, white liberal. I came to DC as an idealist. This was never my campaign. I cannot and will not claim it as my own. There are millions of people who worked harder, risked more and struggled longer than I can even know, who deserved to be out there at the inaugural speech, and at the inaugural balls. I was in DC, and I watched it on the Internet, drank a bottle of wine and jumped up with joy when he mentioned "non-believers" in his speech. And I was optimistic, too.
Cautiously optimistic, like so many have described themselves. Then, this morning, as I drank my coffee and checked my news alerts, I remembered Obama's pledge to close Gitmo. Here, now, a politician keeping his word. In an era of Blagojevich, Cheney, Rumsfield and our beloved finally ex-president George W. Bush, how refreshing to have someone keep a promise.
Congratulations to the Obama campaigners, stompers and movers, and congratulations to the new Obama administration. With so much work ahead, this is an encouraging first step.
To be honest, I was a Michigan voter, I didn't get the chance to vote for Obama in the primaries. My vote went to Dodd. I worked for a labor union that endorsed Senator Clinton during the primaries, and, as part of my professional obligations, I worked in Indiana on her campaign. This is a wholly separate story, but rural Indiana was going for Hillary anyway.
But then I saw the Yes We Can video for the first time, and I understood the movement of the Obama Nation. I did not work on his campaign, except for occassionally helping my office put together a few yard signs, and post a few blogs and articles. I did not stomp for him, and I did not put my whole life aside for his campaign. I could have done more, and many have and will continue to argue that I should have.
My response has and will continue to be that I am a young, white liberal. I came to DC as an idealist. This was never my campaign. I cannot and will not claim it as my own. There are millions of people who worked harder, risked more and struggled longer than I can even know, who deserved to be out there at the inaugural speech, and at the inaugural balls. I was in DC, and I watched it on the Internet, drank a bottle of wine and jumped up with joy when he mentioned "non-believers" in his speech. And I was optimistic, too.
Cautiously optimistic, like so many have described themselves. Then, this morning, as I drank my coffee and checked my news alerts, I remembered Obama's pledge to close Gitmo. Here, now, a politician keeping his word. In an era of Blagojevich, Cheney, Rumsfield and our beloved finally ex-president George W. Bush, how refreshing to have someone keep a promise.
Congratulations to the Obama campaigners, stompers and movers, and congratulations to the new Obama administration. With so much work ahead, this is an encouraging first step.
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