$10 Saturday

In Chicago, the 4th of July means the Taste. Few summer things are as fun or as memorable as eating dozens of helpings of Chicago’s finest. If you go, you must try the rainbow cone and delicious Connie’s pizza. Yum.

I’m saving the experience for later this week, so today my brother and I planned to hit up Lincoln Park’s pizza fest, not quite the Taste, but respectable.

We got there and realized a $5 donation was encouraged just to enter. Since we didn’t know what to expect in the food available, we decided to try our own route.

I mean, really, who needs a festival in a city with thousands of restaurants? Between the two of us, we tried pizza from two places–here and here–rather large “tries,” to be honest, and chocolate and peach ice cream from a great place near Armitage. Total cost? $10/ea.

We paid nothing for parking, little for gas and had a great day in gorgeous weather. We walked to the free Lincoln Park Zoo, visited a water-lily park and checked out neighborhoods Brother is looking into for housing.

This is my idea of fun: food, walking, gorgeous weather, the city. Ah, Saturdays in Chicago.

investing advice

My company doesn’t offer a 401K or any other investment aid.

In my budget, I’ve set aside a chunk of money every month for investments, but I’m unsure about what to do with it. Up until now, I’ve put money into my Scottrade account and purchased stocks. That’s done well for me, but I’d like to have an additional resource—preferably one that promises a high return.
What’s your favorite way to invest?

what I wish I could tell them

After months of looking for the right job, I’m finding the tables turned: I’m hiring.

That’s right: my company has given me the power to place job ads, filter applications and choose whomever I’d like to fill freelancing positions. When things are slow, I pour over job histories; when busy, I click in and out. The experience has already taught me a few things, things I wish I could tell these faceless job applicants but instead that push their resumes into my “not to use” folder.

Things like these:

1. There’s such a thing as a resume format.
In an information design class I took, the professor talked about the genre of resumes. What does a resume *have* to have, he asked. Your name, I remember saying.

Well, believe it or not, that rhetorical question wasn’t so rhetorical. I’ve actually received resumes that were nothing more than a Word doc. with a paragraph of “here’s some random info” text, without so much as a name or phone number. People sometimes don’t even give their address or contact info. I’m amazed.

2. Be choosy with writing samples.
If you’re applying for a freelancing opportunity at a funeral home, let’s say, or even at a circus, your favorite piece of erotica fiction probably isn’t appropriate info. ‘Nough said.

3. Please proofread.
I feel bad, I really do. When someone sends me a cover letter riddled with errors, I empathize. We’ve all been there. But the thing is: if you’re applying for a WRITING job, you kinda’ gotta’ check your stuff. This is simple logic.

4. Aim to impress.
One applicant checked my company’s materials before sending a sample. He wanted to get a feel for our style. Though he didn’t even mention this in his application, I could tell. He went above and beyond. You can bet we’ll use him.

I just needed one thing

I was standing in the beauty supply store a while ago, surrounded by bright lights and shiny products, needing just one thing: a hair product my friend recommended. Hair products were at the back of the store. I navigated past the perfumes in pretty packages, past the gift bags with arranged lotions, past the stacked nail polish display. Rows and rows of haircare, and I just needed one thing.

The salesladies wore fresh black smocks over their clothing, their hair styled and their faces bronzed. They looked so pretty. I wanted to look that way. I wanted to buy whatever it was that they used. But, focus, I told myself: there it is: Redken’s curly hair line. I picked the spray—then the gel too. I could at least give myself that, I reasoned. Look at all I’m not buying.

And so I left—two, OK three, products in my hands, needing only one.

This happens to me sometimes.

Biblical finance 1: Give to God first

Last weekend, I sat down with my new salary information and an Excel spreadsheet and took the time to set my new budget. My only rules were 1) Put as much as possible into savings/investments, 2) Include all necessary expenses (food, insurance, gas, etc.) and 3) Apply Biblical finance principles.

The last guideline results from a two-month-long study I’ve been doing—and still haven’t quite finished—on Proverbs. On a first reading, I marked all the verses dealing with finances. On this second reading, I’m studying each verse, adding it to a growing list of Biblical principles. Depending on your exposure to Proverbs, you may or may not know that its verses aren’t commands, per se, but general observations by Solomon, who many call the wisest man that ever lived.

So I’ve been thinking about a way to include these principles here, since they very much affect the personal aspect of my personal finance, and have decided to post a principle every Sunday. Seems fitting. So, without further ado, here’s principle #1:

Give to God first.

Proverbs 3:9-10 “Honor the LORD with your wealth and with the firstfruits of your produce; then your barns will be filled with plenty and your vats will be bursting with wine.”

Many Christians adhere to a 10% tithing principle, including myself, but I personally see this verse as encouraging generous, thankful giving—honoring God with a large portion of your money—and the emphasis seems to be on attitude more than on amount/percentage. For me, this means more than 10% might be wise.

If you’re interested in this sort of thing, Free Money Finance has run several posts on the subject of Christian giving:
What Christians and Others Give and Tithe
Tithe or Pay off Debt?
Does a Church Worker Need to Tithe/Give Generously?

the other half, of me

Someone I now work with introduced himself by asking me for a brief bio. When I finished, he told me how he never went to college, still turned out OK, makes tons of money and people know it. (really.) Our conversation actually lasted more than an hour, and we talked about a project neither of us has final say on, arguing about particulars. He wanted me to know how much he knew about something, if that makes sense: he’d go on and on about certain aspects of a very specific industry, seriously talking without breaks or pauses. In a conference call between us and another manager, this new guy asked me if I owned a home.

“No,” I told him.

So he took the chance opportunity to one-up me again. He asked if my parents owned a home then (relevant? I’m not sure how). He mentioned the Chicago suburb he used to live in, and he went off on another tirade.

To him, it’s clear, money=status. He believes he’s valuable and important because of his financial success.

And I get that; I really do. Money makes you feel in control; it makes people who normally wouldn’t treat you nicely treat you with respect. I grew up in a very financially successful home, with professional parents who worked hard and were very blessed. But there’s a difference between the way new guy and I see things: To him, money is the goal. To me, money is the tool to get to the goal.

I’d like to think I’m so philosophically above him… that I’m not over-in-love with money like he is. But the worst part of our conversations is the reaction it provokes in me: I want to tell him about my savings or my parents’ success. I want to let him know I’m not just some stupid 20-something who he can talk down to. I want to tell him off, so he can know just how fabulous I am, how my education was more valuable than money, how my life doesn’t revolve around my bank account.

And in wanting to defend myself, I reveal we’re not that different. And that’s why I don’t like him: I’m terrified I am him.

week one of the job: $10.16

Maybe it’s because of English Major’s recent frugal food series, maybe it’s just coincidence or convenience, maybe it’s some money principles finally working their way into my day-to-day desires: I don’t know. Whatever the case, I was able to complete week one of my new job without spending an extra dime on coffee, lunches, snacks or after-work stops. The only, I repeat: only, purchase I made all week was for a small pizza Thursday night, for dinner, and this I will allow for a few reasons:

1. I had been craving a deep-dish Lou Malnati’s pizza for at least the entire day.

2. I bought only the small size, for a total of $10.16.

3. I ate it for dinner Thursday, lunch today and gave some to my Mom this morning. Three-ish meals for $10 sounds plenty reasonable to me.

How’d I do it?
For one thing, I brought coffee in a travel mug with me every morning; this way, I didn’t want to stop for some, and, honestly, Coffeemate hazelnut creamer makes coffee deliciously tasty. Also, I packed my lunch each day. I only get a 1/2 hour lunch break, so I’ve been taking it in my office. I put my phone on do-not-disturb, put up an away message on the company AIM and check e-mail/blog surf while I eat from my brown bag. No gas wasted. No extra money spent. As far as what to put inside those lunches, I’ve been using yesterday’s dinner for today’s lunch all week: I got these adorable little tuperware containers at IKEA last week (3 for around $2 total) that are the perfect size for lunch portions. Monday I had honey balsamic chicken with veggies; Tuesday, barbeque chicken and broccoli; Wednesday, a beef sandwich; Thursday, chicken parmesan and a salad; Friday, leftover pizza. With the main courses I pack fruit and crackers with a granola bar.

Breakfasts: My breakfasts have largely been EM’s delish yogurt parfaits–you have to try them. One thing I’ve been doing is freezing chopped bananas ahead of time; the frozen texture really adds something.

Unexpected bonus: Fridays at the office, a manager brings in bagels and cream cheese from a local shop. YUMMO this morning! Plus, a friend had us over for dinner tonight: delicious and free!

day one, done.

My first day at work consisted of introductions, training, logistics and downtime: I got a new e-mail address, new (albeit temporary) office and new knowledge of how this industry works. A good day overall, though a slow one. I think that’s how beginnings go.

The last full-time job I held was a editorial internship last fall, at a local book publisher. I worked independently, silently, listening to my iPod in my sad little cubicle while I read scores of publications, marking them for errors. That job was fine, too: it had ups and downs. I liked reading (though by the 12-week end, I read little for enjoyment, and I’ve never quite recovered), I liked casual dress, I liked getting to listen to music while I worked. On the down side, though, I almost fell asleep at my desk by noon, I had little human interaction, I hated the “corporate fun” environment (let’s get together Saturday to have a company party, everyone!).

Really, everything has ups and downs, but my new position has a great too many ups for me to reasonably complain: For starters, I’ve never been the head of anything. I’ve never had someone introduce me as “our new writer” or had something referred to as my department. Everyone’s helpful—more than helpful. I’m told I’ll get to hire people, get to decide what freelancers come and go. I get to choose how this department will run. People want my feedback.

It’s a good place to be, though unfamiliar.

celebratory spending

Of course, since I scored the new job, I had to buy myself new clothes–or at least new shoes and a new shirt. I justified this by telling myself it’s for work. Thankfully, I can so afford them now, especially as I’m budgeting plenty in the wardrobe department.

Weekend purchases:
DSW Shoe Warehouse: Dressy black sandals, $50. Black kitten heels (to replace the ones that broke on my way to the train from an interview downtown–yes, really), $50.
Sears: New shirt, $26.

All in all:
$126. Totally worth it.

Lessons I learned from my father

A few nights ago, when my dad and I were watching CNBC together, I made some comment about stocks to him. My mom, walking by, blurted out, “Boy, you are just like your father.”

And, at least when it comes to finances, that’s probably the best compliment she could give me.

He’s the most successful, humble, financially savy person I know. So in honor of Father’s Day, here are a list of six money-related things my dad has taught me:

1. College is worth its tuition.
No one was more excited when I got into grad school, even though he’d be the one largely footing the bill. Convinced that this degree would change my job prospects, Dad’s been my biggest cheerleader and proudest friend. And, by the way, turns out he was right about the job stuff.

2. Hard work pays off.
A business-owner, Dad has a master’s in English Literature and was a college professor before he moved to America, worked as a grocery-cart pusher and janitor, married my mom and started this company. When I was growing up, he worked most nights, but now he really reaps the benefits: a completely flexible schedule allowing him to sleep in sometimes and go on vacation any time he wants.

3. Invest young.
He started a stock portfolio for me when I was a sophomore in college, when I had no idea what he was doing. His $7,000, coupled with the thousands I’ve added since, is up to $28K now, just a few years later. Lesson learned, Dad.

4. Help people when you can.
If you need a job, an apartment, advice… Dad will help you. He seriously, genuinely cares about whatever struggle you’re dealing with, and he’ll go out of his way to connect you with someone who can help, to put in a good word for you somewhere. Example: a guy at our insurance office is making barely $1000/month in his sales-based job, and now he’s going to have to quit and move home because he can’t afford his apartment. Dad is talking to the guy’s bosses, campaigning for a raise or way to help. He gains nothing, but he believes in helping.

5. Manipulate the system.
He bought my brother a car, at a special 0%APR two or so years ago. This way, Brother used the car for, I think, twelve months before anyone paid a dime. No interest, Dad said, so why not use their money.

6. Do something you love.
This has haunted me sometimes, when I was editing in a cubicle and when I was cold-calling as a temp. I know how happy I could be; Dad showed me firsthand.