Yet another reason to keep your receipts

Photo by The Consumerist

I'm betting we've all heard about how important it is to keep your receipts. I have a gift card to the Dress Barn right now that serves as proof that keeping a receipt can make all the difference between unwanted store credit and a reversed charge on a credit card. (Sigh.)


I know I should keep my receipts. They can come in handy for plenty of reasons. But I'm scatterbrained, even on the best days. Other days, my brain apparently just decides to abdicate completely. So organization is a hard thing to keep up.


But I've discovered a new reason to keep our sales receipts: taxes.


See, if you itemize your tax deductions, you can include sales tax. To figure this amount, you can either use the IRS calculator, which will give you an estimate, or you can keep all your receipts. If you choose the latter, of course, you have to find a place to keep them all and go through to add them up at the end of the year.


All that aggravation is probably why I've never met anyone who actually saves all receipts. It's an awful lot of hassle. And yet, I'm currently scouting a box to start keeping our receipts in. We'll probably name it something especially crafty -- like "The Sales Tax Receipts Box." (I'm just creative like that.)


So why am I embarking on what seems like a colossal waste of time? It's pretty simple. I finally looked up our estimate. According to the IRS, when you earn $30,000-40,000 in Seattle you will pay approximately $672 in sales tax.


Okay, that's not a bad chunk of change. But there are a couple of points to consider. First, it's that Tim and I are constantly running into unexpected expenses. Very annoying and (cumulatively) very costly. Second, Seattle sales tax is 9.5 percent. Working backwards, that's $7073.68 worth of purchases.


Less than $7,100 of taxable items? Somehow I doubt it. Big time. Even shopping on sales, Tim's Body Shop stuff -- the only products that seem to really soothe his eczema -- runs close to $1,000, I'd say. And that's hardly the only taxable stuff we buy. So we're saving sales tax receipts.


Of course, that doesn't help us with the past 6 months' worth of receipts that we tossed. Being the crafty gal that I am, though, I was able to figure out sales tax after the fact. I just went back to credit card and checking account statements. Using total purchase amounts, I figured out the amount of sales tax. (See, kids? You will use algebra when you're out of school... if you're a huge geek like me.)



As a quick note, I avoided using grocery purchases, since most items aren't taxable. I also made sure to be overly generous in figuring out how much we would have tipped for deliveries and meals out.



Just based on the transactions I could find, I'm already up to $312. And that's missing a lot of receipts.



I want to point out one more benefit of this system: You have to look at your bills back to back. I was moderately horrified by the sheer number of deliveries we have charged so far this year. It can be a real eye opener.



Overall, we shoot for no more than one delivery or meal out per week. Still, as our health and stress levels vary, so does our success with this goal. I knew this abstractly, but it was a bit of a shock to type in six months' worth.



In fact, on average, we actually were about right. Previous to farmers market season, we were shooting for $35 a week. The average of these transactions (including weeks where we felt awful and got premade food two or even three times a week) was $41 per week. Still, that's a pretty painful total -- $1004.93 to be exact. Ouch! That should help reinforce my resolve to cut down in this area of the budget.



I guess the moral of the story is, even if you have no interest in saving sales receipts, you should periodically check your various spending totals. Quicken and other money management software will generally do this for you, so you can see the horrific numbers without any work on your part!







So is anyone else saving sales receipts? If not, are you considering doing it next year? What about checking your spending totals?

How far do you have to go to be frugal?

Custom Tailored by Chase Reeves

On Sunday, I asked how you know you need to trim the budget. Now, I'd like to go yet another step further and tackle the time-old PF question: How far do you have to go to be frugal?


I am confident that this question has no answer -- at least, not one that will fit everyone. Or even close to everyone.


My mom is a pillar of frugality. She goes from store to store with a detailed list and a full coupon holder. She grabs extra coupons from the recycle bin in our hallway -- especially the Albertson's double coupon forms. She also ruthlessly pursues rebates, not just filling them out, but also marking due dates on the calendar, so she can be sure all get sent to her.


Perhaps most impressively, she stocks up in a way that would make most survivalists proud. She has a chest freezer, for when she loads up on great meat and/or bread sales. Tim and I haven't had to buy toilet paper in at least a year. She's always got at least 5 packages on hand at any time. Need a new toothbrush? Out of toothpaste? Go down to Mom's. (She does donate most of these, and deodorant, to various shelters in the area.) I have about 8 bottles of Scrubbing Bubbles and untold boxes of Electrasol.


In short, Tim's and my life would be painfully more expensive without Mom's habits.


By comparison, I could only be called moderately frugal. (And some might even consider that charitable.)

• We eat out or get delivery more than she does. Mainly, this is when our health isn't good. But not exclusively.
  

• We get new clothes when our old ones wear out, rather than shop at thrift stores. (It's hard for me to find things that fit, as I'm rather zaftig. And I doubt Tim's skin could handle trying on used clothes: He's allergic to powder detergent.)

• My energy keeps me from going to each and every store, though I do my best to only get what's on sale at each place. Still, even if I were healthy, I would probably get the occasional item priced 10 cents more.

• We have DishTV and even upgraded. While we're easily getting our money's worth, some would argue that, if we really wanted to save money, we'd turn off the TV and read more books. I, of course, would argue that it's not like we can simply go on nature hikes with my energy and Tim's skin/seasonal allergies. But I'm sure there are other ways to find entertainment.

• We buy popcorn at the movies. I'm trying to un-Pavlov ourselves on this one, especially since most of the popcorn is usually eaten by the first 10 minutes of the film. But, since we don't pay for tickets or soda (yet another shout-out to all-mighty, wonderful Coke Rewards), it is an indulgence that I don't always feel bad about.
  

• I don't do rebates -- the fatigue/depression (take your pick) keeps me from being organized enough.

• I don't make my own cleaners. It's arguably cheaper and better for the environment. It's also something I'm just not up to right now.

• I like to buy hair salon shampoos/conditioners. I'm sure some of the drug store brands are just as good. But for my curly(ish) hair, I do notice a difference. Though lately, I've been alternating between drug store and hair salon products. And only washing my hair every other day.
  

Nonetheless, I consider myself frugal. I do extensive comparison shopping and research before any electronics buy. I clip coupons. I sit down with the circulars each week and make lists of different items at different stores. I stock up when there's a sale. I enjoy plenty of frugal activities, such as reading. Other than replacing a 5-year-old pair of pants, the only clothes I bought in over a year were absolutely necessary.


So how can my mother and I both be considered frugal? What is the threshold for living frugally? Is there one?


I think this comes down to the usual basic questions of personal finance: When money is tight or debt is large, how close to the bone do you have to cut? What should you be willing to forgo? When is it time for even the beloved luxureeds should be sent away? (To a farm, where there's lots of land, and they can chase rabbits.)


Is there one, definable moment when the budget should be cut? When paring things down goes from a good idea to a clear mandate?


And if such a point exists, how do you know when you have to cut all necessities? Is it only with a major financial blow, such as job loss or some catastrophe? Is it merely when debt reduction is crawling along at an unsatisfactory pace? For that matter, what is a reasonable pace to pay down debt?


Our debt reduction is going frustratingly slowly, since we can only throw $300-400 each month. It's been awhile since we had a more "normal" income, so honestly I'm not sure what average earners should pay -- if such a term is ever applicable.


I certainly don't advocate cutting all luxuries out. This increases the chance of frugal burnout and financial binges. Obviously, in cases of job loss or other major financial catastrophe, you cut whatever you have to in order to survive. But I'm a big fan of living while you pay down debt, not just surviving.


What do you think? How desperate would you have to be before you'd give up everything not absolutely essential to survival?

When is it time to cull the budget?

Photo by Jeff Keen

On Thursday, I talked about the fact that there should be distinctions among the various non-necessary expenses. Right now, they're all considered "luxuries" or "wants." But some items are more dear to us than others. (Thanks to Revanche for supplying me with the term "luxureeds" in the comments section of Thursday's post!)


So, when we start the debt reduction process -- or even just begin living more frugally -- we assess our expenses. We trim out the absolute expendable stuff. We try to keep desirable luxuries (ie, eating out or buying clothes) to a minimum. And slowly we begin to make progress.


Still, budgets are made to be tweaked. So at what point do we take it upon ourselves to reassess our priorities? When do we question what we need, what we want and what we can afford? In short, when is it time to cull your budget?


Many of us have basic budget allotments each month. Personally, I do a week-by-week budget because a) Tim gets his unemployment checks weekly, b) we have so many costs it's easier to break them down and c) it keeps us from spending all available funds at the beginning of the month. Whether you go month to month, week to week or even day to day, the real question remains: How often do you review your budget?


We're not just talking about updating for new expenses or triumphantly lowering the amount of old ones after a successful attempt to decrease your bills. This is the sort of thing that should be an ongoing effort or, at the very least, something that you do at the start of each budget cycle.


I guess I'm wondering how folks handle the more thorough budget scrutiny. Do you sit down and really think through your necessities, luxureeds and flat-out luxuries? Do you make an effort to slowly pare down further? In other words, is there a defining moment when you realize your current effort isn't enough?


I know that some PF bloggers have trial periods. Frugal Dad and his wife decided to try living without expanded cable. After one year, they talked and evaluated whether to continued. (In the end, they reinstated the cable, but it was more for the kids than the adults.) Others try to treat it like a game. They are always trying to find a new savings route: a new savings method, a new attempt to lower expenses, a new item they can live without.


So, for you, is budget scrutiny an ongoing thing? Is it a constantly simmering back burner in your head? Or do you and your spouse schedule times to evaluate budgetary issues? Or is it simply spotaneous, as you find inspiration through blogs, friends' anecdotes or bits of news?

Want vs need: Is it too simplistic?

As I reviewed the budget yesterday, seeing if we could pare the budget down to $1,000 a month, I began to really consider the PF idea of "wants vs. needs." It's one of the most basic PF tenets -- and for good reason. When people's financial lives are out of control, they tend to have very skewed ideas of what is a "need."


But how long should that last?


Is it really a good idea to keep this idea of things being either expendable or not? Of course, there are three basic needs: food, shelter, clothing. Once those are met, the rest are luxuries.


But are they, really? Obviously, my medications are not luxuries. If I don't have them -- or don't have enough of them -- I stop being able to function. I am either too exhausted to accomplish much of anything, or I am too severely depressed to cope with the world. Similarly, Tim needs his inhaler. And if he doesn't see a doctor regularly, his skin tends to become so terrible that he can't wear clothes. So, medical items, and medical services, should probably be added as necessities.


At the moment, that about taps out my ideas of absolute necessities. Anything else is technically a luxury. But aren't there gradations? When people get rid of non-vital expenses, they tend to prioritize. Sometimes it's based on cost -- a weekly breakfast with friends is going to be more tenable than a weekly massage -- but other times it's based priorities.


For example, Tim and I pay $60 for Dish TV. It isn't technically a necessity. But since we're both home all the time, it's a closer to the bottom of the "Expendable expenses" list. So, it's not really a need, but our lives would be a lot worse without it. My energy issues prevent us from forgoing TV in favor of hiking or other sporty activities that offer hours-long entertainment. While Tim and I could spend more time online, it would mean more evenings of each of us doing our own thing and not interacting -- not great for a marriage. It would also probably make us more prone to cabin fever, which can result in more outings (and, thereby, more unnecessary spending).


Whether or not you agree with this line of thinking, we all have things that we acknowledge aren't actually "needs," but are loathe to call "luxuries." We think of them as things we "need" inasmuch as we can possibly find a way to afford it.


Of course, most of us have more than one luxury. Even the most dedicated PF bloggers aren't going to go completely bare bones. Living that way tends to lead to frugal burnout. Most of us have a range of "wants" -- some large, some small. Most of us also have prioritized them, in case fat needs to be trimmed from the budget.


So we have things we could give up relatively easily (if somewhat reluctantly) and things that we will cling to tenaciously until there is absolutely no reasonable way to afford/justify it anymore. But we have the same term for both. How much sense does that make?


Thus far, I've only come up with "needxuries" (or maybe "neexuries" but I think the former looks better).


Some of you may be wondering why such a distinction is important. There is an awful lot of comments in the blogosphere that cast aspersions on people's budgets. While people have a right to their own opinions, they often have different priorities than the person who has to live with the budget. Wouldn't it be nice, when talking about expenses, to have a kind of shorthand for "very important" expense? Rather than answering various readers' suggestions that you cut the items most dear to you, they would know better what you could do without.


Granted, this isn't a huge issue. But I know some bloggers deal with very judgmental readers. (I'm lucky to have escaped most of that with you awesome folks!) And there is simply the annoyance of having to listen to people tell you to cut the item that you want to hold onto the most.


So, yeah, we could all start laying out our budgets by priority level. But isn't making up a new word more fun? Someone had to come up with "smores" and "blog," right? So let's brake some new ground here.


What words or terms would you use to denote the importance of your various expenses?

Hyperventilation budgeting

There's nothing quite like finally acquiescing to peer pressure and creating a budget... only to find yourself in the red!


Okay, so I finally took the plunge. I created a budget. It's obviously a work in progress, based on rough estimates rather than definitive numbers. But, now that we know we aren't getting kicked off unemployment for a couple of months, I figured it was time.


To make the goals slightly easier to keep track up, I broke everything down into weekly amounts. This way, I can put aside small amounts each week, rather than have large, recurring expenses take a chunk of income. Additionally, by setting weekly goals, I'm less likely to rationalize overspending at the start of the month.


Alas, this snazzy (if hypothetical) budget gave me a heaping dose of panic. After expenses, we were actually negative!


I trimmed the grocery budget and prepared myself for more PBJs, which got us back up to positive. Great, right? Except that I hadn't included our credit card payments yet. We didn't have enough for the minimum amount!


So I took out my mental scissors and started snipping away. The main item I cut was our fun money. It had been $10 per person per week. Not great, but it at least gave us the illusion of money. Still, we had to make the credit card payment and that $80 would go a long way towards it.


The next step focused on cigarettes. Tim has agreed to try and nurse each pack for three days. That would mean one carton a month, rather than two. (He wouldn't smoke it all, but the fact remains that some months we'd have the outlay for two cartons!) That was another $60 of savings.


Then I started looking for a cheaper haircut. Last time, I went to the brand new stylist. She did a fabulous job on a friend's hair and was cited by a local weekly paper as the best "affordable" stylist. Apparently, $50 is affordable? I balk at $40. But then I figured, I knew she did a good job and so it was worth the extra $10. (And she did do a fab job, incidentally!) But obviously, that wasn't an option this month -- and my hair is in definite need of a cut.


So I went and checked out a couple of hair schools nearby. Turns out that Gene Juarez academy charges only $12.95 for a haircut. For long hair, they add on $15/hr, or about $11.50 for the 45-minute haircut. That's still a lot cheaper than $40, let alone $50. Plus I clicked on "special offers" and found a coupon for 1/2 off any service performed on a Monday or Tuesday. Altogether, that's a haircut for $18.32 with tax and tip. Not bad at all!


These changes got us up to nearly $200. That would be the minimum payment plus $60. That got us through the month, but I was pretty upset at how tight things were.


I sat down Tim, to explain why we had to be so careful from now on. I explained that the real problem was quarterly taxes. Then a little voice in my head cleared its throat. "Uh, hello?! Taxes, dummy? Maybe that's why things are so tight?"



It was because of a huge chunk payment of $421 (for self-employment tax) that our budget was so tight! Things like this were the whole reason I wanted to start budgeting. So that I could put aside a small, weekly amount rather than suffer periodically with significantly diminished income.


I felt stupid. But also quite relieved.


So that concludes my first foray into budgeting. I know I'll be tweaking this over the next few months. Still, it's a project that I can focus on.


This month, I'm specifically paying attention to food: groceries and ordering in. I've explained to Tim that we're going to attempt to not spend the money we've budgeted for meals out. Then we'll have a victory -- and less debt. He was polite enough to at least pretend to be enthused by the idea.


No wonder I married him.

When is an upgrade worth it?

Temptation comes in many forms. For Tim and I, it takes the guise of the TV channel G4.


This channel, which used to be known as Tech TV, is offering a free preview during March. Whenever there's a preview, we eat it up. Initially, Tim was the enthusiastic one. But he quickly turned me on to some of G4's offerings, and I was hooked too.


I took an immediate liking to "Attack of the Show" which makes me laugh. It also nicely sums up all of the hot YouTube clips so I don't feel quite so left out.


Tim loves X-Play which gives him even more information/reviews on games. (He has a subscription to a gaming magazine, but the show gives real time clips from the game and also often features cheat codes etc.)


Then there are shows like "Ninja Warrior" which I am now completely addicted to, and I couldn't tell you why. It's a ridiculous show, essentially showing various Japanese people attempting insanely difficult obstacle courses.


How difficult? Each competition starts with 100 people. The most I've ever seen advance is 11. Usually it's 2-4. Some people fall off on the first part of the course. Others almost make it to the end. But pretty much everyone who fails ends up falling about 4 feet into the muddy water below.


That's pretty much the entire show. The announcers (it's subtitled) are quite funny with their color commentary. Otherwise, it's just people trying (and mainly failing) to make it through the course. So why does it suck me in? I suppose the real allure is that, like many popular reality-based shows, it shows people failing -- and failing spectacularly. I mean, if it's just a little slip it's barely worth watching. But if you get to see someone tumbling end over end into the water, well that's entertainment!


I really never thought this kind of thing would get to me. But it's a morbid fascination. And I'm not the only one who's so enthralled. My mom, who doesn't even own a TV, watched a bit of it at my insistence. (Mainly because of the weird look she gave me when I was trying explain the show's appeal.) I thought she'd call time after a couple of people tried their best. She sat through the whole show, and even made the sympathetic noises -- "Aaaah, no!" as someone splashes down, "Oooo, almost!" as someone is 2 seconds shy of finishing the course.


So clearly, this show is a powerful substance.


So why do I rave about G4? Well because it's one package up from our current one on Dish. That's a $12 difference.


Logically, $12 a month doesn't sound like that much more. But it's $144 a year for the extra entertainment. I'm sorely tempted. But I'm just not sure.


Tim, of course, would be all for it. He doesn't just love G4. The package would also include his other-favorite channel: Animal Planet. In addition, some of the other channels in this preview are giving him access to some animated, comic-book-based shows that he loves: The Incredible Hulk, X-Men, etc.


And so my debate begins:


Pro: The extra $12 a month, would bring us hours upon hours of extra entertainment.

Con: We already watch a ton of TV. I'm not sure more is a good thing.



Pro: Tim gets antsy/bored easily, and more shows would mean less desire to go out.

Con: His Magic game on the computer provides many hours of entertainment and we already paid for that. (One-time $20 fee, paid 2.5 years ago.)



Pro: With Animal Planet on, I'd at least be watching vaguely edifying TV.

Con: I'd also be watching a lot of G4 silliness, and a whole lot more animated shows with Tim.



Pro: It's $12. You spend that when you and Tim each get a value meal!

Con: At least then we get out of the house.



Pro: You can't beat the cost per hour for entertainment. Even if we only watched the G4 shows we like, every day, the cost would be 30 cents an hour. More likely, we'd be looking at 10 cents or less an hour.

Con: However you break the cost down, it's still an extra $12 a month. And you're in debt. And may be losing half your income soon, unless Tim's unemployment benefits get extended.




It's that last one that I can't get around. I think, at least until we find out more about Tim's benefits, we probably shouldn't go adding to the budget. Even just $12 a month.


So we can't add to the budget. At least, that's what I'm guessing most people's answer will be. That it would be irresponsible, short-sighted, etc. (In other words, I'd be American consumer 1999-2007.)


As a result, I'll try to find it in the budget. I have to call the phone company and get some information on specific fees -- what they are and why I'm being charged them. And whether I can just NOT have a long distance plan. Last month, we used 6 long distance minutes for 55 cents. With fees, it was $9. So in other words, we paid $1.50 a minute.


If this were you, and you found out the benefits did get extended, would you upgrade?

What does 'budget' mean to you?

Free From Broke posted recently with "Excuse Busters for Not Having a Budget." FFB then asked what other excuses we could think of. Being my opinionated lil' self, I chimed right in.


I explained our current situation and said it was simply not possible to budget for the problems that crop up between the two of us and our health conditions.


I said that the closest we got to an actual budget was:

• My disability check to cover our rent
• Making sure there was $500 in checking on the first Friday of each month, for Tim's insurance.
• Each week, keeping $220 in the bank -- $20 for our IRA, $65 for therapists kind enough to work on a sliding scale, the rest for groceries and other incidentals -- and throwing the rest at the credit card debt.

In fact, I ended up emailing with FFB to discuss this a little further. I explained just how many unexpected expenses come up, making it very very difficult for any real concept of budget.


Then again, I added, I suppose it depended on your definition of "budget."


FFB agreed with me. He wrote back:

I still see a budget as valuable so you can more accurately track your expenses ans spending. A budget doesn't have to be concrete, it can float. Unexpected expenses always come up and if you have a good budget then you can re-work it to free up money for the new expenses. Or at least know how you are going to pay for it.

By these sketchy outlines, Tim and I do have a budget. As expenses come up, we divert some money from credit card payments. Other times, we put it on a credit card (which we make sure to pay in full each month, to avoid interest) and then pay that down before any other credit card. Either way, our system does fall under FFB's description of why a budget is useful.


So do we have a budget?


My opinion is no. I think we have a frugal lifestyle.


We try to keep grocery costs down. But I don't have the energy to record all receipts from groceries. And when I am on Quicken, I use my time to be sure we're not going to bounce -- not to go through and find transactions from any of the four stores we might have visited.


We make sure there's enough money in the bank for the EFT from Tim's insurance. But that comes about only through careful planning of money allocation 10 or so days beforehand.


We don't buy many things on a whim. But we also don't rationalize that it's "not in the budget." We ask ourselves (or each other, depending on the situation) if we really need it. Especially in light of our current financial situation. Usually the answer is no.


And while I try to limit the amount spent on dining out (or ordering in), it's hit and miss. My goal is about once a week, or a total of $30. Some weeks, we do great and have no trouble providing food for ourselves. Other weeks, we're both feeling completely rundown -- whether from chronic fatigue/depression (me) or eczema/painful MRSA infection (Tim). Those weeks, we'll probably do very little cooking. I'll eat PBJs, Tim will scrounge for food. But at least twice, we'll give up and order a pizza.


About the only things we truly budget for are:

• Checks to therapists
• IRA contribution
• $10 each per week to do with as we please

On the whole, I'd have to say that, if our plan is a budget, it's a pretty terrible one that only sometimes gets followed.


Of course, perhaps I'm putting the cart before the horse. Just because we don't follow a budget, that doesn't mean we don't have one. Perhaps I'm being too strict in my definition of "budget."


To me, a budget is a plan that, while fluid, is something that you can generally stick to. It's something that has goal numbers for each sector: groceries, utilities, fun, dining out, etc. It has to be somewhat changeable, since life is hard to plan for.


But can you really have a budget if you don't have the energy to track each penny? Can you really have a budget if it only works about half of the time?


I'll put it to you readers: What is your definition of a 'budget'? How does yours work? How often do you not meet the goals you set out?

Marketing logic

Over the past few months, my mom and I have discussed switching cell phone plans.


It's been an on-again, off-again conversation. Originally it came about when Tim needed some form of PDA. We considered a smartphone, since we could get a discount by signing a new contract. That, however, became moot when a kind and generous reader gave us her old PDA.


Since then, the discussion has surfaced from time to time. Tim's RAZR was giving us fits, and we wondered if it was about to shuffle off this mortal coil. But we went to a T-Mobile store and, after installing a new SIM card, the phone is functioning relatively well again. (Though Tim maintains its ability to get a signal is continually degrading.)


We discussed the option in depth when, for the first time in four years, we had an overage. A severe overage, to the tune of about $60 -- doubling our usual bill. Since I was suggesting AT&T for rollover minutes, this did seem to be the universe urging us to get on with the switch already.


Then Mom made a point: Did a once-in-four-years overage of $60 really make a new plan (costing $10 more a month) worthwhile?


Technically, no.


Rollover minutes seem like a great option. We rarely use all of our minutes, yet we pay the same rate regardless. So, the marketing logic goes, let's keep those minutes for up to a year. Then, we can be less careful, since we'll have a buffer in place. This would be great, since we have the lowest minutes plan (500) and are thus pretty strict about usage.


I was getting pretty enthused about this idea of "saving" minutes from one month to the next. The commercials were right -- I pay for the minutes, I should get to use them. Right?


Uh, maybe not.


At some point in this process, I stopped and asked myself, "If we rarely use all of our minutes, how likely is it that we'll actually use these rolled-over minutes?" It's pretty unlikely, actually.


You can argue (and I certainly have) that we could be less strict in our usage. This would allow us to take advantage of rollover minutes. Much like belongings swell to fill available space, our use could grow to fit our allowances, rather than our actual needs.


But once again, real logic has gotten lost in the shuffle. If we get used to using more cell minutes, won't that necessarily mean fewer minutes are left to roll over? Either way, it means these rollover minutes probably won't get used. The fact is, if we do change plans, we're mostly going to be paying for a perceived need, rather than a real one.


Perceived needs are how wireless companies make the big bucks. They try to convince us we need to be able to surf the web or check email anywhere for just $25-35 per month. They offer us 4 channels of TV on a 3" screen for only $15 a month. Or GPS for $10/month. (Because, if you're paying that much for the Web, you wouldn't want to just use Mapquest!) Whatever the latest technology, commercials tout it as the most convenient, conveniently forgetting to mention it's also the most expensive. But those bells and whistles get us into the store, if only out of morbid curiosity, and customers leave with far more than they thought they wanted -- and a helluva lot more than they needed.


But that's marketers' specialty. It's how they earn their pay. Their job is to create a need where there is none. If cell phone sales drop, they just add more gadgets and convince people to trade up. And that requires, not just skill, but their own brand of logic.


They've gotten us used to the idea that phones should do more than receive calls. They should have cameras. And play music. And sync to your computer. And have a day planner. And surf the web. And compare prices. And give directions.


But maybe the biggest coup is that they've convinced us that we need cell phones. The average person doesn't need a cell phone. Few folks do.


Okay, resident managers find it very useful. And salespeople who are in their cars a lot. But for the average person? It's a convenience. A very alluring one. And marketers have gotten so far inside our heads that now we almost do the work for them.


Think about it: Do you buy so many minutes because you need to make calls? Or do you make calls because you're already paying for the minutes?


Even if you're not willing to give up your phone, here's a trick that might get you to at least rethink the value of your rate plan:


First, add all the used minutes together -- including nights, weekends and mobile-to-mobile. Divide this sum by your monthly fee. You have an overall cost per minute used. Chances are, this comes out to a pretty good deal.


But, here's the catch: How many of those calls would you still have made if you were watching your minutes or didn't have a cell at all? Probably quite a few less.


Now, think about the fact that you may be using a lot of mobile-to-mobile and night minutes simply because you have them.


So now take only daytime minutes (no night, weekend or mobile-to-mobile) and divide that by your monthly fee. My bet is this is a much closer representation of your real use of your cell phone. And I bet it's a lot more than the last figure.


Of course, I'm presuming here that all those other calls could be avoided -- which isn't probable. But do consider how many of those calls could have waited until you were by a landline, and just how much you could be saving that way. (This is the last math exercise, I promise.)


Add up the minutes of your local calls. Multiply that by the last per-minute rate you found. Now compare that to a no-frills (no caller ID, no call waiting, no nuthin but a ringing phone) landline. Here in Seattle, that costs about $15-20 after taxes.


Still, that doesn't help you on long-distance calls. But, for around 4 months before our wedding, I was on the phone with my best friend/maid of honor in Florida at least twice a week, each call a minimum of 30 minutes, and our phone bill was still only $33. That included local service and a $6 monthly charge for a cheap long distance plan.


Okay, so if we were all perfect frugalists, we'd toss our cell phones out the window right now. But judging by the lack of clattering noises, I'm going to say that most of you are hugging your phone, telling it you won't let the mean blogging lady hurt it. And that's fine. Well, all except talking to your cell phone.


I'm not saying you have to give up your cell phone. Mom and I may still switch to AT&T for the simple fact that a) $10 isn't that much to pay for peace of mind and b) the reception has to be at least marginally better than what we're getting from T-Mobile.


What I am saying, in fact, is that we need to start thinking realistically about our spending, especially on things like cell phones. We've been immersed in marketing logic. We've been trained by marketers to think of all the value we can get from our plans.


All those 'unlimited' minutes on nights and weekends? All those calls we can make to other folks with our carrier? To paraphrase my favorite, ranting, cartoon squirrel, "If all this stuff is free, why are you paying $70 a month?!"


We're trained to think of all the items we get to have at our disposal, instead of what we're actually using. And it seems to me that marketers go to great lengths to keep us from figuring out the actual cost per use.


For example, Tim and I don't text. We don't particularly like texting and see no need to pay for it. No one ever remembers this. (Once, we even got a "Merry Christmas" text from a relative that we were due to see two hours later!) And so, with forgetfulness and spam, we pay anywhere from 20 cents to $1.80 a month in text charges. Yet whenever we mention this to someone, usually to remind them not to text us, they advise us to just get a texting plan (starting at $5/month) to avoid the headache.


For the record, I actually have a friend that got so sick of trying to budget for the random texts, he actually decided to pay the extra $5 a month. Now, of course, he told me, they're getting their money's worth, since his wife has become addicted to texting. Talk about marketer's math!


I guess the real question here is whether we're paying these prices because the value is there, or whether we're finding the value because we've agreed to pay the prices. It seems like we rationalize an awful lot of things -- always with the help of commercials, telling us what new technology we need -- in order to feel okay about paying $50-100 a month.


How many people would text at the same levels (or at all) if they were charged 10 cents a pop? But since you're paying for an unlimited plan, you figure you may as well get your money's worth. Except, and maybe this is just my eternal question, if you wouldn't normally use it, are you ever really getting your money's worth?


Or is it just marketing logic at its finest?

Murphy's Law: 1,764. Us: 0.

This may be a tad disorganized. I'm sleep-deprived -- Restless Leg Syndrome kept me up til 4 a.m. and then woke me up again at 10:30 a.m.


Suffice to say, it's not been a good couple days.


Saturday, I checked our bank balance, and had a nice little heart attack when I discovered we were negative nearly $200.


After a minor bout of apoplexy, I checked the transaction history and found that Tim's health insurance had taken out $502. This was news to us, given that last month the premium was $336.


Sure that it was a mistake, I went to the website to check premiums... And discovered that Tim's rates had been raised by $60ish because he just turned 30. Combine that with the new, 2009 rates ($100 more than last year) and voila, you have an impeccable charge that nevertheless screws us over big time.


Luckily, a relative recently offered us a no-interest loan -- with payments not starting til June. So I zoomed over to the bank and threw the check in the ATM, thereby avoiding about $90 in overdraft fees for that day alone. (Another $60-90 for Sunday/Monday, too.)


Okay, fine, so (more accurately) the title should be Murphy's Law: 1764, Us: 1.


Point is, now we don't get to put the full check amount toward debt, which was disheartening to me. Also, $100 of mine that was in the bank from Christmas, waiting to be spent, was sucked up by the $502 charge.


Meanwhile, on Monday, Tim ran a couple of errands, including going to the bank for quarters for laundry. (He'd used the last one that morning. I skipped a shower so that he wouldn't have to.) Turns out, despite the fact that our relative also banks at WaMu, the check is still being held. According to Tim, they said something about it having to go downtown, since I put it in the ATM and not the night drop box? I don't get it. Nor do I care to.


The upshot is that we have nothing in checking, despite having a ledger balance of nearly $2000.


So I woke up today not just sleep-deprived and seriously considering leg amputation, but also desperately in need of a shower. Seriously, it's a good thing my cat's part Persian, so she can't really smell much. Otherwise she'd be scampering away, yowling in odor-agony.


I went and borrowed some towels from mom so that I can stand to be in the same room as myself. (Yes, you read that right.) And we will probably have to borrow some quarters from her too -- which we can pay back along with the cash I had to borrow from her yesterday for my therapist.


See, it turns out that we're out of checks. Of course, I didn't know this last Monday, when I messed up on the check to my counselor. In case you're wondering, you can mess up a check several ways -- which I have proven in the past -- but this particular time it was by writing the amount of the check on the "Pay To" line.


So, having promised to mail her a corrected check, I get home to discover that's impossible. The next day, Tuesday, we went to the bank and ordered new checks. But, of course, they didn't make it here by yesterday evening. And my balance was rather high, given a few missed sessions from snow and icy conditions. (I grew up in Anchorage. I can drive on snow and ice. But Seattle drivers in those conditions? Terrifying.) So I begged some cash off mom, promising to pay her back as soon as WaMu stops being an idiot. Or, at least, once the check clears.


So, just to recap briefly:

• Out of towels
• No laundry money to do towels
• Very stinky Abby
• Very exhausted, grumpy Abby thanks to RLS
  
• No checking funds available
• Ledger balance of nearly $2000
• Check being held, despite being drawn on a WaMu account and being put into another WaMu account.
• Health premiums up by $156 in the span of 30 days.
  

The only moderately hope-inducing item in this tale of woe is that the Washington State Health Insurance Pool has a low-income application. If you make sufficiently little, they will give you a discount on your premiums.


I had Tim call and find out whether there was a distinct cut off or if each case was evaluated individually. The operator said they hadn't yet been told the 2009 income cut-offs, but 2008's was $2900.


Given that this is what I thought we were making, I did a little happy dance. Then I froze mid-dance.


My Social Security went up by $46/month. And I had been rounding Tim's unemployment down a bit in my head calling it around $1200 instead of what I now realize is $1364. Add $1364 and $881, you're up to $2245. Now realize that I make $900 a month for my contract work. We're up to $3145.


Of course, since the premiums went up by around $100, chances are that the cutoff rose by around that much. But that would mean I may still have to earn $145 LESS a month, just to save some undetermined amount.


You have to love bureaucratic math.


So, we're going to go ahead and apply, with a letter attached from me saying that we have these debts and list them. Then mention that my work may be getting cut down to $750 or $800 a month. If that lets us qualify, then I'll just have to invoice for less. Assuming the premium goes down by a sufficient amount.


Don't get me wrong, if absolutely necessary, we can pay $502. But it's really a big chunk out of our debt-reduction budget.


And there's always that fun experience of being just over the arbitrarily-determined bureaucratic cut-off. $2899 a month? Sure, of course you can't afford the premiums and here's some help. Poor thing. $2900 a month? Pssht, you'll be fine. Whiner.


Okay, okay. I know the government has to draw the line somewhere. But it's still a very strange concept, when you get right down to it. One dollar either way and you're either indigent or middle-class.


The only thing keeping me going is the idea that, even if we are over the cut-off, there are sometimes loopholes in the system. Provided you appeal enough to the right people. Which I plan to do -- as much as necessary.


For example, when Tim went into the hospital while we were dating, the financial aid people could only count me as a dependent if we were married. So we fibbed a bit and said we were engaged. (A couple of months later, we actually were.) It still didn't really count, since we weren't actually, legally married.


But once we explained that I was on disability and that Tim covered pretty much all expenses other than rent for the two of us, the lady agreed to take that into consideration. We ended up paying nothing for the hospital stay -- which, by a lucky coincidence, is exactly what we could afford at the time.


This kind of stuff just reinforces my very basic belief that there's generally a way around the rules -- so long as you ask repeatedly and are stubborn enough to wait until you get the answer you want.


So, we have had a veritable cavalcade of bad luck, lately. We have a plan to move foward, which helps a little. Meanwhile, we're just trying to get through it and shrug off most of the bad feelings.


I wish I could say that, at the time this all happened, I handled myself with quiet dignity. In fact, I had a mini-meltdown. Just one of those straw-the-broke-the-camel's-back moments. One of those straws being that I lost $100 of money I was supposed to spend on myself. Since the only money left in the account will be loan money, which is supposed to go directly to debt, I was having trouble with the idea of still spending as planned.


Both the lender of this money and Tim have scolded me. They told me it's not my fault the premiums went up. (Perhaps if it had been as a result of my actions, such as an overdraft, they might feel differently. Now they're just telling me to shut up and indulge myself.)


So, I have that to look forward to. In addition, I can always look backward, meaning I can take comfort from the fact that I have been in far worse situations. For example:


I was earning $1200 a month working at a part-time job (quickly digging myself into the hole on energy, no less). My part of the mortgage had just gone up to $600, since I had kicked out a no-good boyfriend. And in a three month span, I experienced the following:


Had the ex threaten me (in the hearing of tenants who then called the cops.) In Washington, if you've lived together, a threat is enough to be arrested for domestic violence and get a one-year restraining order slapped on you.


Three major appliances died. First the stove in the Mother-In-Law apartment downstairs. Replaced for around $350. Then the dryer. Around $300. Then the wall oven/stove top in the main house. That was a little pricier. Had a guy rip out the stovetop/island and put in a stove; take out the wall oven and put in more cabinets. Why, you ask? Because wall ovens start at around $1100.


Right at the end, I secured a full-time job. (I, of course, ended up having to quit from fatigue a couple months later, but at this point I was securly entrenched in denial.)


The last day of training before officially starting the job, I came home to find everyone standing in the street. There had been a fire and everyone had to be evacuated for what turned out to be over a month.


I just listened to the news, shrugged and said, "Well, we were running out of appliances to have break, after all."


It's all about keeping that bitter, ironic sense of humor, I tell ya.

The worst part of frugality: patience

I've always been an impatient lass.


If I think of something, I want to do it now. And I'm not exactly good with waiting for other people to find their own methods, either.


The latter trait is from being a precocious little overachiever in school. I'm always (annoyingly) convinced that my way is the best way and that no other way will arrive at satisfactory results. When Tim tries to do a web search on his own, he ends up turning to look over his shoulder -- where I'm hovering and offering advice -- and asking if I want to do it myself. That usually shuts me up and sends me back to the couch.


But the impatience, that one's a head-scratcher. It's not like I got everything I wanted when I wanted it. My parents taught me to save up for things. A standing deal was that any big ticket item (ie, $20 or more) would only be purchased if I saved up half.


So I'm not sure why I have so much trouble waiting. I suppose it's tied back to the utter obsession with doing things a certain way. That is to say, my way.


And so you can imagine how difficult it is for me to deal with the necessary wait of debt reduction.


It's necessary, of course. None of us got into our debt overnight. We certainly won't get rid of it that way. (At least, until the lottery this week. Then this will be a very different blog, believe you me!)


Still, it's times like these that make the wait particularly unbearable. The future in uncertain, for Tim's career and for the country's economy. And we have no idea what kind of schooling he will need, how long it will take or how it will affect our ability to pay off debt. So much is up in the air. And I can't do a single thing to make the answers come any faster.


I'm also beginning to suspect that I definitely need to up my medication, but that's a post for another day. Suffice to say, it's not helping the general anxiety and restlessness.


But I'd have those anyway. Once my brain latches on to a subject, it's tenacious. And hard to shut off. I end up trying to guess every conceivable outcome, which is, of course, impossible. But as a rigid, controlling personality (as I often am) I need to know. So mere impossibility doesn't deter my brain.


Somehow this also morphs into a belief that I'm not doing enough to get us out of debt. (I blame osmosis, since so many blogs advocate second jobs. Frankly, I'd be happy with a first job.)


This leads to me trying to do a bunch of little things, as though 20 hours of little chores is somehow less tiring than 20 hours of one big chore, which I know better than to attempt. In fact, it often takes more energy -- much like the difference between one full-time job and two part-time jobs.


I may have been an honors student, but sometimes I wonder about my actual intelligence.


Perhaps the single biggest problem with waiting is that you know it won't be time spent twiddling your thumbs. Murphy's Law is tried and true.


You can't predict what it is that will go wrong, but you can be pretty certain that something will. All you know is that you have very little control, and you have to maintain a long-term frame of mind -- all while dealing with crises in the short term.


So maybe that's the reality of thrifty living: not just saving money, but keeping it up in the face of everyday life.


The day-to-day world inevitably intervenes in all of our budgets: cars break down, kids outgrow clothes or get sick, insurance bills go up...


Whatever happens, it interferes with the long-term plan. You have to pay down a little less on the card, so that you can continue to get to work. It seems paychecks go a long way in the debt-reduction biz.


So waiting is awful because you know at some point, you will be faced with something you didn't plan for. It's one of those unwritten laws of the universe: You can't plan for everything, and the more you try, the more you'll be blindsided when it happens.


Because of this, people like me have a hard time making a good budget. Some people still don't have a problem and can account for the last dollar. Not me.


It might just be my temperament, or perhaps it's the unpredictable expenses of chronic conditions. Whatever the cause, the result is the same. I can't create a comprehensive budget, allocating funds for every aspect of life.


What I can do is focus on small areas of change. This month, it was Blockbuster Online. After comparing plans and usage, I found that we were really not getting the deal we thought we were. Now, we'll see how the limited-exchanges plan goes. If it succeeds, we'll save $15 per month ($180 a year). If not, we'll try the one- or two-at-a-time, unlimited rentals plan and save $5-13 each month.


In October, I would like to really try to focus on groceries. I would like to make sure we're staying in the realm of $200 in groceries each month. I suspect we're well above that. I'm not exactly looking forward to being proven right.


In this way, I have small spheres of control, which soothes the control freak in me. At the same time, I'm learning to survive the broader uncertainty of life.


Mostly, I try to remind myself that part of the fun in life is not knowing. After all, Christmas morning would be pretty dull if I knew what was in each box.


At least, that's what lets me sleep at night. And that's about as true as it needs to be.


*************************************

Be sure to check out the new giveaway that's (finally) been posted! It's a must for any and all who've survived this past week with their sanity even slightly intact.

Frugal expense-check

That's it.


I'm sick of personal finance blogs that give helpful hints about expenses to cut, like expensive coffee drinks or takeout lunches. I can't take it anymore.


It's not that I have anything against the various bloggers. They are simply talking to their main audience.


But I'm not in that audience.



So this list won't include "lattes" or other frivolous items that most frugal folks have already nixed. (In my case, coffee has never cluttered up my budget. But don't let too many people know. I might be tossed out of Seattle!)


Nope, these will be things that apply to even low-income folks or people already on a tight frugal budget.

Transportation

Okay, we all know about how we should take more public transit to cut down on costs. If you can do this, great. Be sure to check if there's any kind of discount you can get. Student, elderly, disabled, or just check the cost benefit of a monthly pass.


But most of us probably can't make buses tenable. You have kids to take to activities, or you need to pick up groceries on the way home. Whatever the reason, you need your car.


So what can you do?



Fill up whenever the price dips down.


1. This may seem trifling, but if you buy as much as you can hold while the price is lower, you can avoid paying for as much gas when the price is high.


2. If you're really committed, you can get a gas can, to store extra at lower prices




Find cheaper gas


1. Okay, this sounds like a no-brainer but have you thought of all the ways to find it?


2. Try to fill up only where there are several stations. The more there are, the more competitors, the lower the gas price.

3. Sam's Club or Costco have cheaper gas. In a year, you can easily make up the $50 membership fee.


4. ARCO stations have cheaper gas prices -- but you have to pay in cash or deal with a 50 cent card fee.




Have you checked into the possibility of carpooling at your office?


1. Put up a note at work. It's a long shot, but you never know.


2. If you need a car to pick up your kids, ask around at the daycare or after-school program.

• Maybe you can switch every-other-day with another parent.
  

• Then you can take the bus some of the time.

Cable/Satellite

Do you need cable?


1. There are a few dedicated individuals happy to live without TV. I am not one of them. Most of you probably aren't either.


2. Others are fine with simply the basic channels. With two people home all day, every day, Tim and I opt for satellite.


3. But Tim and I still have the second-lowest package available. It's under $50 a month, including local channels and 2 DVRs.


4. When one of us is pulling in more money, I've promised him we can get the next package up ($12/month) which offers G4.



Have you price-shopped?


1. Call up the competition. Get prices. Write them down.


2. Call up your current provider and haggle. Be sure to reference other prices.

• While your subscription prices do help, all providers rely on advertisers. Advertisers are more eager when more subscribers exist. So your provider has an interest in keeping you.

• When my $19.99/month cable modem reverted to the regular rate, I called Comcast and said I needed to cancel. The operator gave me 6 more months at $29.99.

Can you pare it down?


1. Some relatives of mine have been going through hard times. They cut their top-of-the-line package to a lower one -- but it still includes premium movie channels and lots of them.


2. If you're paying for premium channels, even if TV is your main form of entertainment, ask if you're getting your value.


3. If your library's movie catalog is too limited, consider one of the lower-cost plans from Netflix or Blockbuster. A premium channel is at least $12.99 and Netflix starts at $9.99

Movies

Are you getting your money's worth for subscription?


1. They sound great but do the math.

• We have 3-at-a-time, unlimited in-store exchange

• I checked our history, some months, we watched fewer than 4 movies total.

• Most months, we traded in 5-10 movies.

• Now that fall TV is on, we're switching to the 3-at-a-time, 5 exchanges ($15 less)

2. Hidden costs

• If you're more than a week late returning in-store rentals, your card gets charged

• If you carry a balance on your cards, that probably means double-cycle billing

• So that $40, even after it gets taken off, will affect finance charges for 2 months

• Then there's the $1.50 restocking fee. How many do you pay a month?

In-theater movies


1. I've discussed before how to get cheap or free movies

2. Are you using all the rewards programs to their fullest? All these offer movie theater tickets and/or concessions:

• MyPoints

• Coke Rewards

• Theater's own loyalty programs (I love AMC's)

3. Are you using every possible discount (student, senior, military, etc)?

4. Are you going to matinees whenever possible?

Internet

There are no-charge internet services

1. This is dial-up, of course.

2. Do a search.



Check into prices

1. Don't forget DSL often has equipment charges

2. It can also can involve charges for MSN

3. Be sure to figure these into the price.

4. Clearwire has a price-for-life guarantee



Do a search for "Comcast $19.99 6 months".

1. Sign up and then call to cancel, get the $29.99 offer for an extra 6 months

2. After that's up, use your spouse's or partner's (or relative's) name. Repeat $29.99 deal.

3. By the time you're done with that, you'll qualify for the $19.99 offer again.

Food

I assume meal-planning based on sales goes without saying


As does stocking up when items are on sale


The simple fact is: The fewer trips to the grocery store, the less impulse buying you'll do


Always be sure to have plenty of storage containers


1. If not, food goes to waste.

2. Shop garage sales. I got five tupperware cylinders & lids free.

3. If you're afraid of forgetting about food, try a leftovers calendar



How much junk food are you buying?


1. The more candy, the bigger the bill. (I should follow my own advice on this one)

2. Aren't these generally impulse purchases?

3. Try to avoid special trips. You rarely leave with just one bag of candy.

4. Did you know most cravings are temporary? If you can stay busy for 30 minutes, most will go away.



How much soda are you buying?


1. I guess this technically falls under "junk food" but it's a huge expense at our house.

2. Tim goes through more than a 2 liter a day of Mt Dew. Yep, 2 liters.

3. We shop generic and sales as much as possible & load up at Wal-Mart when we're visiting his parents.

4. I really don't get this. I've never liked soda much. I just drink water. Why don't more people?

5. The route I take with Tim when his intake starts creeping up, one glass of water for each equivalent of soda.

6. If you don't like the water in your area, stop buying bottled water and get a filter. Much cheaper and more eco-friendly



Are you using preemptive solutions?


1. If you know you'll order pizza when there's nothing to eat, be sure the cupboards are stocked.

2. If you know you'll get takeout when you're too tired to cook, keep simple foods around, like soups, Easy Mac or the makings for a PBJ.

3. If sometimes you just crave pizza, keep some frozen ones around so you can't justify ordering from a store.




Spices don't have to be expensive

1. Dollar stores often have inexpensive (and perfectly good) spices

2. Drug stores (Walgreens and Rite-Aid, here) have $1 spices.

3. If it's a specialty spice, check places like Whole Foods or Top Food, where you can get it from bulk containers. This can often be cheaper than "Spice Islands" etc.

UPDATE: Apparently there's a whole article about this.




Finally (and strangely) aluminum foil has gotten quite pricey lately.


1. Like Tupperware, be sure to have plenty of foil and clear wrap

2. Stock up on sales.

3. Weird but true: You can find foil cheap (25-50 cents) at estate sales.

Entertainment

Beyond movies, a lot of times going out costs money.


1. Museums have entrance fees

2. Clubs have cover charges

3. Concerts cost money

4. Drinks with friends get pricey



I've mentioned some ways around social expenses you can't afford.


Always be aware of frugal programs


1. Most museums have a monthly free day

2. Try to meet up with friends during happy hour (there's often a late-night one, as well)

3. Make sure you know of any potential discounts for students/seniors/etc

4. Read through your local Entertainment Book and see if there are any 2-for-1 coupons for museums, entertainment, discounts, etc

5. Find out if local plays have a pay-what-you-can night (they almost all do)

6. If you know someone in a play/concert/club performance, ask if they have any discount passes left.

7. Check out student versions of theater and music. Most are quite good and very cheap.

8. Check out free performances, ala Shakespeare in the Park

9. Try to organize a group for an outing for a better rate

Cheap thrills

Games night


1. Great time

2. Time with friends for free

3. Chips, salsa and soda are about all you need to provide





Girls' night in


1. No shouting over music in a club

2. No cover charges

3. Cheaper drinks

4. Cheaper than going for mani/pedi

General expenses

Always complain if warranted


1. Don't scream or use expletives

2. Use a polite, controlled tone or volume (if you're writing or talking)

3. Point out the numerous people you can influence: coworkers, friends, family



Always flatter if warranted


1. Write an enthusiastic letter to the company, raving about a product you're happy with

2. You'll often get coupons or even small samples.



Want to try a new product? Check your fave freebie blogger for updates on available samples


Want magazines but don't want to pay?

1. Do a trial offer ("no risk") and try to cancel in the first 30 days.

2. Most companies will offer you the rest of the year for $1. (Again, they need numbers.)

Is impulse spending okay?

I think the answer to that question is pretty obvious, but I stumbled upon an interesting little piece on Yahoo! Finance called "Buy Now, Don't Regret Later."


The author talks about times when we become too frugal. When we deny ourselves and end up regretting it later.


He is obviously quite fond of being budget-conscious, but I think he wants to point out that sometimes we go a little too far.


As I was reading, I couldn't help but agree: Any system, however smart, can box you in. It can lead to decisions based on knee-jerk reactions rather than logical decisions. And, as my fourth-grade teacher was so fond of telling us, often your first answer is the right one.


This really resonated with me, but not because I have some would-have-bought item I pine for. I have moved a lot in the last 12 years -- between college dorms and various housing scenarios, it's in the double digits. So I'm usually too busy wrangling the things I already have to yearn for something I didn't get.


But the same frugal impulse -- to quash "unnecessary" spending -- has led to my own dilemma. It's a tad ridiculous, actually, because the answer is obvious; but I can't quite bring myself to act.


Tim and I have a promotional 0% on the biggest card. That amount runs out after October, at which point we will have to either pay the interest (15% on just under $9500) or transfer the balance.


I sat down with various credit card offers recently and read them through. (Our other cards don't have any particularly good offers, at present.)

1. There's one that's a 7.99 percent, not an introductory rate. But, of course, you never know if that's what you'll really get until you apply.
2. There's a 12-month 0% offer. This would give us a lot more breathing room while Tim figures out what he'll train for, how long schooling will take, etc. But the 3% balance transfer fee has no cap. In the past, the cap was $75, making it a no-brainer. This time, it'd be closer to $285.
3. There's a 0% 6-month offer with a balance cap, but the limit would be too low to transfer the whole thing over. And chances are, Tim will still be in school when the offer ends.

I looked through all this and did the math. Even with the 7.99%, we'd be paying more in interest. In fact, by the six-month mark, we would have paid the same amount as if we transferred over to the 0% card. The clear answer is option #2.


So why am I reluctant to do it? Well, a few reasons, actually.

1. I'll have to open a new card. In this economy, that can be dangerous. Some articles warn that this may cause current card companies to downsize your limit or up your rate. I doubt this would happen, but it's a concern.
   
2. It will have an effect on my credit score. Not huge, but not great, either.
3. Most importantly, it's the psychological impact of putting more debt on the card. I know, logically, that the funds will end up there, whether by balance transfer or by interest. But it's still a hard thing to do.
   

And it's the impulse in this last one that is so frustrating. I know that it's the right thing to do. But I can't do it. I don't want to put more money on the card, even though I know it will eventually end up there anyway. These are the situations that make staunch, unquestioning frugality a dangerous thing.



But there are necessary transactions that are harder because it's easy to slip into the fast mindset of not spending anything. Ever.


In fact, this mindset is problematic in more ways than one. Tim's natural impulse is to spend without worry. Mine is to quash spending automatically. Neither is a very fun or happy way to live. (Though, admittedly, Tim's is probably more fun in the short term.)


As my mom likes to say, "Moderation in all things -- including moderation." Any mindset that asks for 100% unwavering commitment is pretty unrealistic.


And so Tim and I both make adjustments and try to move toward a healthier center.

Optimistic pessimist

I was reading an interesting post over at PT Money, "How to Save Money Like a Madman."


This is the part that really caught my eye:

Get Paranoid - Like the madman, you’ve got to believe that "they are out to get you!" By "they" I mean life emergencies and set-backs: job losses, higher taxes in retirement, medical problems, etc.

Tim and I have been living this way for years. When you have two people with chronic health problems, life setbacks are practically routine. They're everything but scheduled.


Tim's MRSA creates boils that have to be seen by his doctor. Two doctors' visits (treatment and check-up) means $30 of co-pays. That's twice a month (if we're lucky). Then there's the eczema flare-ups. And the cost of his quitting smoking again.


And even in regular "healthy" people's lives, there are always unexpected costs cropping up: there are cavities and illnesses, computers breaking and cars making weird noises, funerals happen across the country.


Anyone trying to live frugally and/or pay off debt needs to live by the motto: "Expect the unexpected."


Most people hate that saying. They think it's contradictory. But nowhere does it say that you have to guess exactly what's going to happen. But you do need to be prepared for your budget to be blown. If you aren't ready for it, you'll quickly go stark, raving mad.


When I used to do very detailed budgets (had to give it up for sanity's sake), I would always allot an extra $50-$100 for what I affectionately called the "Oh, crap!" fund. Well... That's the sanitized name, if you catch my drift.


Nowadays, we just use the broadstrokes: We keep checking around $150 and throw the rest at bills. It's easier and more realistic in the long run.


And so we come to the title of the post: Optimistic pessimist. Hope for the best, but expect the worst. If you're wrong, it's a good thing. If you're right, you're in a better position to laugh it off.


Sometimes it's about life not catching you off-guard. And often, it's about finding the small victories.

What are your budget busters?

Budget busters are your weak spots. It might be a shoe sale; or a bookstore’s clearance section; maybe that video game you’ve read so much about. Whatever it is, it hits – and it hits hard.

At our house, it’s food.

It seems like such a simple idea: Just don’t eat at restaurants, don’t get fast food. But a lack of food makes it harder to think of alternatives. You just want to stop being hungry.

And so you go for whatever is easiest, not whatever is cheapest.

But, like most frugality issues, it seems to come down to thinking ahead.

Visiting

Every two or three weeks, we visit Tim’s family in Sumner – about an hour’s drive from Seattle. We also go see Tim’s friends in Tacoma, about 20 minutes’ drive from Sumner.

Running around means we find ourselves stranded for at least two meals. When two combos run $12-$15, we’re out around $30 – more if there’s a third meal in there. Add to that an inevitable snack run to Wal-Mart, and you’re up to $40 or more.

What can we do?

1. Start bringing food

• Bring four meals’ worth, so we can eat before we leave his parents and when we’re out visiting in Tacoma.

2. Stop snacking

• I’m the major instigator for snack runs. When I eat less sugar, we don’t go to the grocery store and spend money. Pretty simple.

3. Make lists

• I never think of snack runs as actual grocery shopping. For groceries, I make lists. But from now on, we won't be going anywhere without a list. This means we’ll roam less, which means fewer impulse purchases.

4. Choose carefully

• Instead of combo meals at Wendy's, we can order from the Super Value Menu. Get small fries or a baked potato. A 5-piece Chicken Nuggets instead of a chicken sandwich. 2 Jr. Bacon Cheeseburgers instead of a Baconator.

Too few cooks

There are days when Tim isn’t feeling well and when I’m exhausted from helping take care of him. We have simple meals like hot dogs, soup and frozen entrees. Sometimes I just eat a PBJ, Tim has cereal. It’s a good plan B, for a day or two.

But an eczema flare-up or other health problem can last longer than that. Then, we’re sick of the basics and too tired to think straight.

That’s when we order pizza. The bill is usually $25-$30 for two pizzas and cinnamon sticks (very tasty, very addictive). The pizza lasts usually 3-4 meals each. But that’s still a good chunk of change.

What can we do?

1. Half & half

• When we first met, Tim could inhale a 14” pizza. Now, his appetite has mellowed. But we kept ordering two pizzas. What we should do is share a pizza: half with my toppings, half with his. This’ll save $10, minimum.

2. Nix the sticks.

• I love these things. But I need to get back to my low-sugar diet. This includes avoiding the cinnamon sticks, however tasty. Plus, the price was raised from $2.99 to $3.99. Extra incentive.

3. Frozen pizza

• We’ll have to be careful about freezer space but we’ll save a ton. With a pizza in the freezer, you really can’t rationalize paying for delivered pizza.

4. Breathe & eat

• When I can’t think of what I want, I stress out, which makes it worse. I should just grab a small snack (crackers & cheese, yogurt, fruit) and try to get my blood sugar back up. Then, I’ll be more likely to think clearly and come up with a frugal answer.
  

What are your budget busters? And, other than avoidance, how can you cope with them?


Don't forget, this week's giveaway ends Sunday at 11:59 P.M. So enter now! And next week look for my review of "Pay It Down" by Jean Chatzky