So I Have This Friend (or, on mooching)

What do you do when, say, a friend comes to visit and suggests you go to THAT restaurant with the amazing food and the great atmosphere, the one that makes delicious food but hits your wallet big-time? Then, say, this friend orders an entree and drinks and more drinks and a side of this and a bit of that, laughing it up and saying how good it all is, only to say, when the bill comes, that she can’t cover it?

You only ordered something small, because, well, you’re on a budget after all. And your friend says something about how she doesn’t make much money and it’s hard to find good work and you know? Maybe you can help her out?

This happens to me sometimes. Not frequently, and not with a lot of people. But with some people very frequently, in fact with one particular person all the time. I’ll know I can spend $10, so I’ll order something small; Friend knows she has $10 in her wallet but orders something big, knowing I can help her, if it comes to that.

I don’t mind giving to my friends; in fact, I believe in it. But maybe there’s some kind of line we can cross with giving. Maybe at some point, giving becomes excusing? Maybe at some point, my “sure, here’s another $10″ becomes “you don’t have to be responsible for what you do”?

This same friend has been looking for a better job, on and off, for almost a year. She makes $8 now, so, yeah, she doesn’t have much money. So what do I do? I offer to help her with her resume, thinking that this could help her get a better job, help her make better money. I spend three hours one Friday night beefing it up and reorganizing and formatting, etc. I send it to her and say, voila! like she’ll fall over herself gushing with praise. She doesn’t respond. She never says if she’ll use it.

The truth is, she never asked me to look at her resume. It was my idea, my plan to help her get in a better financial situation. In other words, it’s what I’d want someone to do for me. Just like I’d want someone to help me if I needed money, though, to be honest, I’d never, ever, not-in-a-million-years order something I knew I didn’t have the money for. I wish someone had helped me make a resume when I was frustrated, desperate for a job. I wish someone had given me advice and guidance to getting the right position. I wish someone would help me when I feel like I need it.

But do I wish that only because I’m looking back? I mean, if I hadn’t done anything, would that have meant I needed help that no one gave or that I didn’t want it (the jobs/resumes/whatever) enough?

What do you think? Can you give too much to your friends? Is there a way to know if you can? And how do you train yourself to stop helping people who don’t want you to? How do you love them enough to say, You can do it yourself? How do you love them enough to say, Sure, I’ll pay for it again?

Image: cedric1981

I Asked for a Raise, and Here’s What Happened.

OK, blogging buddies: Thank you again to everyone (especially Full-Grown Single and Ronnie Ann) who weighed in on my March post, When Do You Deserve a Raise?

I had written it to express my frustration with an employee who wanted, but I didn’t think earned, an increase, and you wrote back with strong instructions for my own future raise-wanting. In my head, I was fully with you, planning to ask for an increase when I hit one year. In the three months since then, though, I’ve grown less sure, as the company struggled and made cutbacks.

Today was my one-year anniversary, so this morning I Googled: How to Ask for a Raise When Times are Tough and found this Forbes article.

Logistically it’s easier to e-mail my boss than meet in person, so I followed the Forbes tips, via print rather than face-to-face. I bulleted my contributions and explained what the median pay rates are in our area for jobs like mine. I said I thought a raise would be fair.

He wrote back immediately and said he totally agreed. He needs a little time but will fight for me.

Stay tuned.

Dear VW

I have been your loyal customer for the better part of ten years, and I’m writing to tell you why that’s changed.

For a long time, I’ve been satisfied with my Jetta because of its great mileage and quality construction. Even though diesel prices have skyrocketed over the life of my car ownership (presently $4.99 in Chicagoland), my car mileage softens the change, giving me an average of more than 50 miles to the gallon.

And in 2003, the well-made craftsmanship of the car became extremely important to me, when I almost totaled it in a bad car accident involving black ice. I and the three passengers survived, in part due to the way the car was made. More than once, therefore, I’ve been very thankful to be driving a Volkswagon. Because of my high satisfaction with my vehicle over the past few years, I’ve told friends, family, coworkers and fellow bloggers about it. To be honest, I fully thought I’d buy Volkswagon again.

Unfortunately, I no longer feel that way. My car is currently at just over 87,000 miles, and a mechanic tells me that cars like mine should last well into 200,000. Yet, for over four months, my car’s been having fairly major mechanical problems: strong burning chemical smells, inability to pick up speed, high RPMs. Yet no warning lights have come on at all. I’ve taken the car in to my local Volkwagon dealership four times now.

Each time, the mechanics tell me nothing is wrong. Each time, I bring the car home and it smells like it’s on fire, it can’t speed up on the road and it goes into overdrive while under 40 mph.

I’m sure you understand how frustrating this must be, especially when you factor in not only the safety concerns, but also the time involved in transporting a vehicle back and forth to the dealership.

Now that gas prices are lower than diesel and now that I am losing all hope of my car’s returning to normal, I am wondering if I should just sell it. Next time, I think I’ll buy a Honda.

Claiming Authority at Work

A few weeks ago, my blogging friend Full-Grown Single responded to some questions I had about, essentially, how to be a manager:

She writes, “You have a different set of stuff to work through: how to claim your own authority, maybe, and then, how to get other people to want to do what you want.”

She was right.

I have this feeling that I’ll be working through this for a long while, but I have good news: it’s getting better. The first big step came when I hit a new point of resolve, where it was OK if I didn’t stay at my company. I updated my resume, I polished my portfolio and I started looking around. I even applied for a few things. This gave me a feeling of freedom, where I wasn’t as concerned about making my boss happy as I was about making things better.

So first: I did some research online, and I found an employee survey that I tweaked a bit and sent to my department. They could fill it out if they wanted, with or without names. It helped me see how they thought things were going, what they wanted improved, how satisfied they were. I learned one person wants to work different hours (no prob), another really wants to be full-time (possible), another wants more editing, less writing (done). In my mind, I don’t know why they wouldn’t just tell me this anytime, but inviting them to do so really worked. This gave me the opportunity to give them something.

Then I met with my boss. He explained again all the reasons for the salary freeze. Then I told him, especially since we have this freeze, I think we should be getting X, Y & Z, these things being other benefits that wouldn’t relate to money but that would make a big difference. I felt like, what did I have to lose? He was so reasonable, as he has been from the beginning, and he gave me what I wanted.

Result: For the first time in a long time, I feel really good about how things are going. Lessons learned? a little research and willingness to try/ask/invite feedback can make a big difference.

To the 508 Number Calling my Phone:

Let me save you the time and trouble of calling my cell phone yet again. No, I do not want a better interest rate on my credit card—the credit card you don’t know the name of. No, I’m not going to call by the deadline you’ve given me. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.

If you knew me at all, you’d know that I pay off my cards, in full, every time I get a bill. I use them to get bonus points and to track my spending, not to defer payments. Low interest rate, high interest rate: they’re all the same to me, because they never get used.

OK? Got it? So tell the other companies—the pyramid schemes, especially—that I’m not worth calling. I’m not going to give you anything, listen to anything, tell you anything. Oh, and seriously: I’m on the do-not-call list.

WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME?

Keeping My Last $2

I spent last Saturday catching up with some friends from the past, over bakery, then pizza. Afterwards, when I was grabbing the Brown Line from the Loop back to Lincoln Park, the ticket-vending machine wouldn’t take my dollar bills–the last two I had in my wallet. Frustrated, I went to see the little man in the booth to my left.

“I need to put money on my card,” I gestured with my money and my CTA pass.

He stared at me blankly.

“The machine’s not working. Can I pay you instead?”

His hands flew up, pushing me away. “Fine. Just go through,” he told me. “I don’t have time to deal with this.”

I know he was angry because a group of teenagers had just gone through before me, all because of the broken machine. I know he was frustrated that it was cold outside and he was working amongst people like me.

But what can I say? I walked through the gate blissfully, glad to keep my last $2 in my pocket.

free pass = happy me.

Tell Me If You Think This Is Weird:

My friend, a part-time office intern at a prominent university, begins his work day at 9 a.m.

The other day, when he walked in about 10 minutes early, he opened his Outlook. An alert came up, saying his supervisor had scheduled a meeting with him that morning from 8:45 to 9:15 a.m. So he thought he was either a mistake or ridiculous, seeing as he *starts* at 9 and shouldn’t even be there at 8:45.

She came out: “Did you get my alert?”

Him: “Yes, but I was confused since I don’t start until 9.”

Boss: “Oh.” {walks back into office}

Right on the dot at 9 a.m., Friend went to scheduled meeting. Boss said he’d been unprofessional and she couldn’t believe his response. He should’ve come in early, she said. But he didn’t know about the meeting until that morning.

Weird? Not weird? Have you experienced any weird business interactions like this?

Facebook: To Do or Not To Do?

My friend tells me this story of a guy who went into a job interview, well-prepared and all charm, only to have the hiring manager turn around his computer screen and show the guy’s Facebook profile to him.

“I’m going to tell you right now,” the boss-man said, “You’re not getting this job, and here’s why. But let’s go ahead and do the interview. It’ll be good practice for you.”

This really happened, she swears. Within the last few months. To someone I almost know.

Do you Facebook? And if so, have you thought about the potential viewers of your page, including future employers? I know that when I was hiring for assistants, I looked them up on Facebook. I don’t know what I was looking for really, but I did do it. And I also know, just from enough casual conversations with random people, that almost everyone looks almost everyone else up.

So. I do have a FB, and I do use it regularly, but I have it set on private.

I have other concerns with FB, besides what strangers are viewing it or what they’ll be thinking. I hate the keeping-up-with-the-Joneses mentality it creates. At any point, morning, noon or night, I can click to see who’s updated what last–who’s engaged, who’s having a baby, who just got a new car and has created an entire slide show of photos.

I can’t tell you the time I’ve wasted looking at every detail of someone’s vacation, even though I barely know the person and might not say hello to them on the street. This, I’m pretty sure, is not healthy.

It’s no secret to me that my heart, deep inside, is an ugly one. And sometimes, I’ll just tell you this too, I get jealous. I feel like I’m falling behind everyone else. That everyone else (note the “everyone”) is getting better jobs, cooler apartments, prettier friends/boyfriends/spouses/children/pets/etc. Instead of being happy for them, like their friend (FB or not) should be, I’ll envy them.

Yet every time I think I should delete my account, I remember the roommates, good friends, long-lost coworkers that I wouldn’t keep in touch with otherwise. So I don’t delete, and the cycle continues.

I know the solution is bigger than deleting my FB, bigger than avoiding the slide shows or updates. I know the only thing (or One) capable of quelling my green heart is the One who made it. I need to live for His approval, not the Joneses, or anyone else’s, for that matter.

Wow. Amazing how a thought about Facebook leads to a reminder of worldviews and eternal relationships.

That’s my take. What say you?

How Much Do You Internet?

I’ve been a loyal Comcast user for several years now, but as of tonight I’m starting to change my mind. Our high-speed is like (well, has been like) lightning, and combined with wireless, well: let’s just say my Internet addiction makes sense.

How much do you use the Internet on a given day? It may be more than you think, at least if you’re anything like me. I usually only realize it when I’m away for a while (i.e., when I’m forced into not using it, like now).

Usual daily routine: Get up, get ready, turn computer on for iTunes in background. #1 check e-mail. Go to work, where I sit at a computer all day. On lunch break: #2 check e-mail. Just before I leave for the end of the day, if I have a sec, #3 check e-mail. Come home and eat dinner. #4 Check e-mail. Do other things–it varies–then, before bed, #5 check e-mail.

Tonight, instead of going to the local senatorial debate I had planned on attending, I spent almost two hours on the phone with Comcast because our Internet is down.

The customer service rep tells me the soonest a tech can come is Friday. Friday, people. What in the world am I going to do until then?

Forgive the blogging absence until then, will you? And when you surf in quick-speeded luxury, think of me.

DSL, here we come.

Let’s Get Something Straight: Is It Just Money?

My 47-year-old coworker K tells me her husband is the cheapest man alive. He’s the one making her work part-time and he’s the one worried about their income. He’s in sales, she hasn’t said in what industry, and commands a high salary. So when she’s angry with him, she tells me, she spends his money.

“The kids had a great Christmas this year because I was mad at my husband,” she says. “They got all sorts of stuff.”

The rest of us laugh like crazy when she shares these stories. She’s a wonderfully sweet woman who loves her children, you can tell, and she is easy to work with, easy to laugh with. We split our sides at the thought of her, crazy with a credit card, packaging purchases to make a point. We laugh too, I think, because we are shocked and surprised and maybe a little jealous that she can be so open about her financial habits. Who admits, out loud and without embarrassment, that she spends in frustration? Who admits she does something a little unwise with her money?

I, for example, don’t tell my coworkers that for a first date I almost always want a new outfit. I don’t say that I could probably shop every weekend without getting bored or that right about now I’m itching to take a trip somewhere. My other coworker T avoided for weeks telling us that she used to eat on $3 a day, back when she was starting out, that she has been living under a drug-dealer in order to keep her $425/month rent, that her parents practically threw her out the door at 18.

It’s hard to talk about money.

I submit that one of the big reasons we don’t talk about money is the same reason I love to PF-blog. It’s very, very personal. And because it’s personal, there’s big opportunity for approval, intimacy, judgment and, largely, rejection. I love the anonymity of my site (which I’ve questioned sometimes and truthfully still catch myself worrying about and then censoring my words) because I can, in theory, say anything without being judged. Or, if someone does judge, he or she doesn’t really know me anyway.

Money is hard for people to discuss because it affects so much of life: where you live, how you live, potentially how you feel about yourself and your friends.

I’d like to change this, sometimes. I’d like to out-with-it and tell the world my financial status. I’d like to start a trend of it’s-just-money thoughts among my friends. But I fear that’s not possible. I fear what would really happen is I would bare all and regret it.

I guess, bottom line, is there’s a part of me that fears what it would do to my relationships and how it would hurt them. Because while it is just money, and money’s not life, my friendships are valuable and delicate and worth preserving.