BulgingButtons

Not bad for a fat girl


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Why Does the FAFSA Have to Be So Hard?

For the uninitiated, the FAFSA is the financial aid document that is required for colleges and universities in the United States. If you want to be considered for financial aid you have to fill out the FAFSA.not-difficult

The FAFSA is an evil document, approximately 10,472 questions long, and it asks you the most intimate financial details of your life. Not only that, it’s confusing because sometimes the information is about the student and sometimes it’s about the parent(s). Oh goody.

Well, last year I did it. I gathered all the necessary information and sat down with my son and filled that sucker out. It wasn’t fun, and it wasn’t quick, but we got it done. Between his grades, test scores, and demonstrated financial need (the fancy terms the FAFSA people use for how poor you are), he ended up with a considerable amount of aid, in the way of grants and scholarships. This is the kind of aid you don’t have to pay back, the best kind.

The thing about financial aid, though, is that you have to file a new FAFSA each year. And the thing about THIS year’s FAFSA that makes it different is that the information required is the exact same information as last year, that is to say the information from 2015 tax returns. It used to be that you used the previous year’s returns, but the rules changed and now it’s the information from two years ago.

Should be simple, right? I already did this, and I even printed the whole giant document out after I finished so I have a paper copy. Smart, right?

I shouldn’t even need that, though. I should be able to login, press a few buttons, and my information should magically appear, after all, they already have it. My friend assured me today that it would be a piece of cake. She lied.

My problems:

  1. I forgot the login to the link that takes you to the IRS.
  2. I got the security questions wrong. I mean, I didn’t really, but they thought I did.
  3. I reset the login and password, only to be told that there’s no record of my address on the IRS database from last year.
  4. I begin hand entering data, using my handy printout as my guide, when it tells me that the amount of my income doesn’t match what was previously entered.
  5. I check my 1040, line 37. I check my printout from the last time I did this. It matches. The computer disagrees, but it won’t let me log in to the IRS site to see what they think it should say.
  6. I fear that I’m caught in some type of loop, so I log out and attempt to start over. I can’t. I’m locked out and need to create a new login.
  7. The email linked to the account is my son’s. He is not here. I must text him to send me the reset code so I can continue this exercise in futility.
  8. He sends a code. I enter it. It doesn’t work.
  9. I tell him this and he sends another code that works. WTF? Did he just make the first one up?
  10. Apparently it wasn’t a fluke, I still can’t enter the information. I’m at an impasse, so I decide that the best course of action is a glass of wine and a blog post.

Perhaps I’ll try again tomorrow. I don’t get it, though. Why, oh why does it have to be this complicated?


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And So We Bleed

Today I choose to focus on the positive.

For example, a pen exploded all over my hand today in class. It inspired a bit of writing, which I humbly share with you, although it may lack something since the blobs of green ink are missing.

The Power of Ink

My pen is out to get me. It thinks that if it explodes a little bit I’ll give up on it, and then it won’t be used and it can keep its precious ink forever.

Ink is like blood to a pen, but unlike blood, the pen doesn’t recycle or regenerate it. Once the ink has been scrawled across the page, it can never be returned to the pen.

The ink, of course, becomes much more powerful once it’s on the page – after all, it turns into words. Words that form stories, legends, contracts, and vows.

What was once plain ink can turn into the Declaration of Independence, or an adoption decree, or a letter to a soldier stationed overseas.

The pen is selfish. It needs the ink in order for it to be considered useful, however, the ink only becomes useful once it finally leaves the shelter of the pen.


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Vote

vote-campaign-election.jpg

Or don’t. Usually I don’t really care whether you exercise your civic right (and duty) if you’re a U.S. citizen. I trust in the balance of powers and figure that it will all work out one way or another.

Sad, right?

What can I say? Most of my life I’ve identified myself as “apolitical,” rather than Republican, Democrat, liberal, or conservative. I’ve been a registered Independent my entire voting life, and I have crossed party lines many times depending on the candidate’s stand on particular issues. I’m not a one issue voter, though, so sometimes it’s hard for me to figure out where I want to place my support.

This presidential election year was similar, at least at the beginning. There were different faces emerging from the usual crowd. I heard different voices in the mix. I stood back and listened, not intently, because I knew most of them would fall by the wayside, but I was still at least a little bit interested.

As the campaign season progressed, though, it because impossible to listen from a distance. As the field narrowed and the voices got louder and more difficult to laugh off, I started to pay closer attention. I started to get concerned.

Now here we are, election day. This is where I would normally encourage you to get to your polling place and cast your vote, if you haven’t already. I normally wouldn’t care what you marked on your ballot, just that you were a participating citizen. This year is different. This year I’m afraid for our nation. I’m afraid that what was once considered a joke will become our nation’s new reality. I’m afraid that too many of us don’t recognize how dangerous a world leader with an out of control ego can be.

I still have faith in our nation. I still have faith in the balance of powers. I still believe that the future of our country is not as grim as some make it out to be. I’m not packing up and leaving the country, regardless of the outcome of the election, but I can’t help but think of my parents and grandparent who had to do that very thing when a certain leader came to power just two generations ago.

I hope you’ll use your vote wisely. I hope whomever ends up as our next leader does so with wisdom, restraint, and fairness. I hope so for all of our sakes.