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I Admit, Money Makes Me Crazy

posted 16th March 2011    Written by: Laura    CATEGORY: Laura, Love/Relationships, Money, Season 4

So, here’s the thing. I haven’t been completely honest with all of you. Although I’ve been pretty real about where I am in my life right now, I haven’t fully acknowledged my crazies.

The crazies that have to do with money. Specifically, with spending too much of it, feeling like I need more of it, and being forced to spend it in ways I’d rather not. I don’t even know where to start, or how to admit my deep down demons in an eloquent way. So I’m just gonna write, and see what comes out.

My issue with money goes pretty far back. My parents split up when I was in junior high. One of the spin-off benefits was that my already close relationships with them got even closer. My Mom and I were like roommates and there wasn’t much parent-child censorship going on, which most of the time was pretty convenient. But other times, it meant that my Mom’s worries became my worries. Or at least, they became stressors I was acutely aware of.

Even though I worked steadily since I was 16 and my Mom’s burden of paying for our day-to-day was a heavy one, I got to spend my money on whatever I wanted. In our little non-nuclear family, my Mom worried about how to pay the bills, I spent my money on school books, booze and clothes, and my Dad paid for my education and took me out often for dinner, movies and other treats. I felt my Mom’s anxiety, benefitted from my Dad’s lean lifestyle (it’s not that he was rolling in it; it’s that his splurges were minimal), and enjoyed the rush of spending discretionary funds.

As my university degree was coming to a close, my Mom was getting ready to move in with her boyfriend. So within six weeks of my final university exam, I was living with my boyfriend, paying bills, insuring my first car, and receiving my first salary. Hunny and I worked out a bit of an expenses-sharing model that would do for the time being.

We didn’t talk about it nearly enough at the time and five years later, we still don’t. Five years later, our salaries have increased – a lot – but so have our spending habits. Our financial discussions and collaborations have not increased with them.

Our savings? Nil. Our mortgage readiness? Non existent. Our credit card debt? Growing. Or at best, cyclical; paid down, back up. Expenses we didn’t budget for? Constant. Because I don’t budget for wiggle room. At all. Hence the growing credit card debt.

But I hate debt. It makes my chest tighten, my pulse quicken, my blood pressure rise. It makes me feel 24/7 pressure to make more, or spend less. Yet, the reality of doing either to any significant extent is pretty, well, unrealistic.

To make matters worse? When I feel like I’m making progress with the crazies – you know, through peaceful thoughts, acceptance, that kind of stuff – I feel like everything other people say or do aggravate them.

Hunny talks about wanting to buy something or tells me gas went up again; my chest tightens.

My Mom stresses about not being able to afford something for herself; my mood darkens.

My Dad wants to treat me to dinner and even though I make more than enough (and more than him), I let him; because I didn’t really account for eating dinner out this week.

I check the balance of our bank account (the one Hunny and I both contribute to, but that doesn’t hold all of our money) and I hold my breath. Did he buy something I don’t know about? Did those three trips to the grocery store add up to more than they should have?

My girlfriends plan a night out for drinks and snacks, and I dread having to pay for it. Because I love the control of not spending money; although, I also like the ease I trick myself into feeling when I do spent it.

My new business partners and I crunch numbers and play around with budget projections, and fury slowly boils in my gut. I believe money can smell fear. If you worry you don’t have it, you won’t. If you wish you had more of it, you’ll have less. If you talk about it too much, the power you’re giving it will manifest in a tangible way.

I’m terrified of obsessing about it; so then I obsess about not obsessing. See? Told you. Crazies.

Don’t get me wrong – we’re fine. We have a new car, nice apartment, I buy as many vegetables as I want, I have life insurance, we contribute to RRSPs / 401Ks, and I have plenty of client projects on the books. Our little family has more than enough. My business makes more than enough. I believe both of these things to be truths, not temporary.

But in my relationship, my Hunny and I are not on the same financial page nearly enough. In my business, I have a lot of honesty to share if I want my business partners to get where I’m coming from. And in my head, I’ve got a whole lot of crazies related to one thing that is never going to go away. As certain as death and taxes is that I’ll always live in a civilization that is based on money.

Love it, fear it, loathe it; it ain’t going anywhere. Which means this girl right here? She’s got a lot of work to do. Ugh.

{Photo credit}

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Wait, You Mean I Have To Be Responsible With My Money, Too?

posted 4th March 2011    Written by: Katharine    CATEGORY: All Posts, Katharine, Money, Season 4, Travel


My first year living in the City of Brotherly Love I worked at the District Attorney’s Office, making a measly $28,500 salary.  I opted out of health insurance and a 401K account because I couldn’t afford the deductions from my paycheck. I would much rather have money in my pocket than in an account doing whatever money does in an account. Or at least that’s what I thought then.

I racked up over $8,000 in credit card debt to pay my bar tabs and shopping sprees because I wanted my own version of Sex and the City. Screw paying rent every month, I wanted new clothes and to drink my body weight in vodka every weekend.

When I got a job at my law firm in 2008, I earned a $65,000 salary, had exceptional health benefits, 4 weeks of paid time off, and finally started a retirement fund and contributed the maximum amount.

Oh, the difference between private and public sectors.

It was the first time I could spend my money without feeling guilty about it.  I paid off my credit card debt, treated myself to pedicures every month, and traveled to Las Vegas and Tampa for hockey tournaments and still had a good chunk of money in my bank account.

I really wish my parents taught me the importance of using credit cards wisely and how to budget money appropriately.

My biggest concern with moving to Prague isn’t how much stuff to bring; it’s how much money do I need?  One of the main reasons I chose to study in Prague is because the cost of living is significantly cheaper than anywhere else in Europe.  My school recommends that I bring 16,000 koruna (~$900 USD) for every month that I intend to live in the city.  That’s enough money for rent, health insurance, and food, with some spending money still left over.  Do you know how much $900 gets me in Philadelphia?  One month’s rent and one week’s worth of groceries.  That’s it.

I really want to make the most of this opportunity to travel and teach abroad.  I’ve already booked a flight to Paris in April, after I complete my certification.  I also have plans to travel to London to visit a friend, Warsaw with my roommate when she visits in May, and I’m dying to return to Rome to gorge on delicious pasta, cheese, and wine.  But I also want to visit South Korea, Costa Rica, Australia, and New Zealand, and traveling to those places aren’t cheap.  I’m afraid I won’t find a teaching job, spend all my money, and have to return to the States sooner than I intend.

I know what you’re thinking:  “But you will get a teaching job!”

I’m trying to be all ‘Peppermint Positive Patty’ about this (get it?  ‘Negative Nancy/Nellie‘ and ‘Positive Patty?’  No?), but like everything else in life (except death and taxes, of course) nothing is certain.  I want to be as realistic as I can about what I’m getting myself into so that I don’t set myself up for disappointment later down the road.

Perhaps the most frustrating thing in all of this is that I won’t have any answers to the millions of questions running through my head until I get to Prague, complete my certification, and start looking for a job.

So for now, I’m just going to estimate how much money I need to have access to, be smart about spending it once I get there, and hope for the best.

What are your thoughts?  How do YOU budget money?  If you’ve traveled or lived abroad, how do you budget your expenses?  Got any tips for me?  Come on, let’s take our relationship to the next level here.

{photo credit: Public Domain}

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Bring It On 2011

posted 31st December 2010    Written by: Alisha    CATEGORY: Alisha, All Posts, Family, Inspiration, Job/Career/Work, Love/Relationships, Money, Quarterlife Crisis, Season 3, Spirituality

Last week I finally realized that I am worthy of good things in my life.  In light of  this new realization I have dreamed up some goals for 2011.  I hesistate to use the word “resolution.”  Resolutions sound so absolute and are hard to keep-in fact I think they almost set you up for failure.  But goals, goals are measurable.  I can do goals.  Goals motivate and inspire me.  Here is what I am working on in 2011:

Real Life

Work It

Lovers and Friends

With Sprinkles on Top

So bring it on, 2011.  I have a feeling this is going to be my year.

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It’s All About The Little Things

posted 12th November 2010    Written by: Alisha    CATEGORY: Alisha, All Posts, Family, Life Lesson, Money, Quarterlife Crisis, Season 3, What I've Learned

I gotta tell ya, these happy pills have been pretty amazing.  My body no longer aches.  I laugh.  I talk.  I smile.  Hell, even on those rainy Chicago days that I used to groan about so much, I walk on clouds.  It is amazing!  Now that the fog of depression has lifted, I am able to see just how wonderful my life is.  It isn’t perfect, but wow.  I can not believe how much of the good I could not see.

Even if you are not depressed, I think you can agree that it’s really easy to throw yourself pity parties.  Like, life sucks because you have to buy beer in the cans instead of beer in the bottles.  Or you think you might as well just stop leaving the house because all of the shirts you own are unravelling.  Or maybe you would rather get fat and sick eating off the McDonald’s dollar menu because shopping at Whole Foods is not an option right now.  Perhaps all of your best friends are married and you still spend Saturday nights cuddling your cats.  But that’s all petty shit, ya know?  You probably have about a zillion amazing little things to be grateful for in this life.

And life is as much about the little things as it is about the big things.

Take this cup of coffee.  To the plain old person, it’s just a plain old cup o’ joe (Kirkland’s Columbian Roast) in a plain ol’ mug.  But for me it’s something bigger.

We moved here almost two years ago.  We thought it would be a good opportunity: a chance to travel on a different career path and be near family.  It was a huge sacrifice.  We gave up a lot of money, a lot of stuff, a lot of security to make this leap.  We had no idea that my side of the family would move–taking their free daycare offer with them.  We had no idea that the job we thought would be so great would be so bad; that my father-in-law would be attacked (and finally killed) by that damn cancer; that the winters would be so long, so gray and so lonely.  We didn’t know that money would be so tight that I would have to spend last spring, summer and fall selling my clothes, my purses, my shoes, my children’s toys to make ends meet.  And that when they still didn’t meet, we would go to the food pantry.

Despite how depressing many of those months were, I am happy for the life lessons I learned along the way.  I learned how to use a sewing machine.  (I made some pretty awesome pillows and pants.)  I learned how to bake bread and cook dry beans.  (My chili kicks ass!)  I learned that appearances are decieving.  (The grass is always greener on the other side, isn’t it?) I learned that it actually takes very little to survive.  (VERY little.)  I learned how to dissociate my self-worth from my possessions.  (This was a hard one.  But I finally got it.  I am NOT my things.)  And this led to me being even more appreciative and grateful for all the little stuff.

Like this cup of coffee.

I am so grateful and so happy that I can sit here at my desk and drink this cup of coffee.

(photo credit)

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Unsettled, Unmapped, Uncertain

posted 27th October 2010    Written by: Nikki    CATEGORY: All Posts, Inspiration, Job/Career/Work, Nikki, Quarterlife Crisis, Season 3

Los Angeles is moody and so am I.

The clouds are hanging low over LA today with a fog (or is it smog?) blanketing the mountains that just won’t lift.  It’s cold and drizzly and it suits me fine.  I’m not in a bad mood, I’m just in a mood; I’m a little bit quiet, a little bit sulky, a little bit heavy.  Not really unhappy, just pensive.

I have a lot to think about, a lot of decisions to make; every person I talk to since I got back from my all-you-can-jet adventure has asked, “what’s next?  Where are you moving?  What’s your goal?  What job are you looking for?”  And all I can say is “I don’t know.”  I.  DON’T.  KNOW.

Somewhere deep inside me, I know it’s OK that I don’t know what’s next.  Deep in the core of me, I am trusting that things will come into place and that I’ll find the answers in my own time and that where I am now is where I need to be now.

That’s all very zen of me, very positive and inspiring and blah blah blah.  But my brain is FREAKING OUT, people.

For the first time in my life, I have credit card debt, I’m unemployed and directionless.  Nothing, absolutely nothing is calling my name, making me feel any passion whatsoever.  The thought of acting makes me feel frustrated and tired, moving is overwhelming, travel reminds me of my empty bank account, and a “grown-up job” gives me dread-filled heartburn.

Honestly, the only thing that inspires me at all lately is writing for you.

Yes, I realize this is uncharacteristically negative of me.  I’m not depressed, really I’m not, but every time someone asks me the well-intentioned questions of “what do you do” or “what’s your plan now,” I feel like I’ve been given a final exam that’s 90% of my grade, and despite all my hours of studying, I’m drawing a complete blank.  Just like in a nightmare of the same nature, all my fears are magnified.

I’m scared of staying in Los Angeles and getting wrapped back up in thought patterns that make me miserable.

I’m scared that moving somewhere is just running away and won’t actually change anything.

I’m scared of putting my whole self into something (a career, a relationship) and having it fail, end, scar me again.

I’m scared of never even finding anything worth putting my whole self into again.

I’m scared of looking back with regret.

I’m scared of being broke, of getting sick without health insurance, of always struggling.

I’m scared of wasting my life.

I’m scared of always being alone.

I’m scared of being unfulfilled and uninspired, and boxing myself in.

I’m angry with myself for not being able to let these fears go.  I have had a truly remarkable year, and yet when these feelings take over, it’s as though everything amazing I’ve done means shit.  All I can see is what I don’t have.

It’s a struggle to let go and trust.  It goes against everything I’ve ever been taught as an AP Honor Roll student and good kid and responsible adult.  It’s hard when people ask what’s next, expecting a plan of action, and all I can say is, “we’ll see.”  It sounds exciting, I know, and I feel like it should be, and sometimes it is, but more often it’s just this weird state of limbo and waiting.

Am I expecting too much?  Am I being too passive?  Is this trusting patience or is it suspended animation?

I feel like I should (there’s that “S” word again) be taking action, making something, anything happen.  Like I’m being unforgivably wasteful with this time I’ve been given.  But I’m afraid of taking action in the wrong direction when I don’t feel strongly in any direction.

And then sometimes I have this creeping feeling that something absolutely friggin’ AMAZING is just around the corner and this period of inactivity is a break I should savor because the shit (the good shit) is about to hit the fan.

My parents gave me a sculpture by my favorite artist, Brian Andreas, when I graduated High School.  It is an angel, it hangs above my bed, and written on it is: “In my dreams, the angel shrugged and said, if we fail this time it will be a failure of imagination & then she placed the world gently in the palm of my hand.”  It has always really inspired me but lately it feels like a warning.

The world is in my palm, and it’s terrifying.  Imagination don’t fail me now.

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