Even Bank Tellers Use ING

Today, my brother stopped by his Washington Mutual, and the bank teller (glorified sales person) tried to sell him on a savings account.

“No thanks,” Brother said. “I have an ING.”

“ME TOO!” the teller exclaimed.

What I Aspire to Be:

A big old YAWN.

That’s right: I’d like to be plain old vanilla, boring as can be. What does that mean? Well, I’d like to be a young, prosperous, frugal girl who lives on less than she makes and gives more to others.

According to Kiplinger’s, I’m not alone.

Hat Tip: I just read this in my Bloglines, and I can’t remember whose blog cited it!! If it was you, tell me and I’ll pass on the credit (and thanks!). (Budgeting Babe)

Advice from Dostoevsky

“…a youth of our last epoch– that is, honest in nature, desiring the truth, seeking for it and believing in it, and seeking to serve it at once with all the strength of his soul, seeking for immediate action, and ready to sacrifice everything, life itself, for it. Though these young men fail to understand that the sacrifice of life is, in many cases, the easiest of all sacrifices, and that to sacrifice, for instance, five or six years of their seething youth to hard and tedious study, if only to multiply ten-fold their powers of serving the truth and the cause they have set before them as their goal–such a sacrifice is utterly beyond the strength of many of them.”

Every day, I am more and more convinced that all of the worthwhile things in life, I mean the really worthwhile ones, take hard work, discipline, faithfulness and TIME. Dostoevsky, back in like 1890, understood something he wished the young people would: sacrificing time now will mean gain later.

In other words:

THE NOW: Working hard, putting my time and effort into a 9-5. Hiring, managing, working, learning. Giving a few years, maybe five or six, to really growing as a writer, editor, manager. Setting aside large amounts of money from every paycheck. Not having my own house or a new car.

MEANS, THE LATER: Skills and experience, and the accompanying benefits. Character. Huge financial savings. The ability to buy my own house or start my own business or whatever (i.e., more options, more freedom).

Inspired by the speaker who shared this quote and who advised the audience to be its own worst boss (setting higher standards for your work quality and job performance than your employers), I am inspired for the future. I’m encouraged that, no matter what I have or haven’t already accomplished, if I’m willing to sacrifice, other things are possible.

I am not going to a wedding this morning.

A few months ago, I made a command decision: if I don’t know someone (i.e., if I ran into them, I’d feel weird going over and saying hi), I don’t have to go to their weddings/baby showers/graduation parties. It’s the time of year for that sort of thing, and, especially when you travel in my particular circles, you get invited to a lot of things, even for people you don’t know. I have gone to my fair share of stranger-parties, and sure, I’ve survived. But I’ve not enjoyed them, and I don’t think the people of honor even knew I was there or cared.

So, last weekend, I didn’t go to the graduation party of a high-schooler I’ve never spoken with, even though her parents seem nice. At the end of the month, I’m not going to the baby shower of the girl whose bridal shower and wedding I’ve already attended but haven’t talked with her since. And today, I’m not going to the wedding of the couple I know nothing about, save from some random Facebook updates.

It’s nothing personal, and it’s not about the money. I’m even sending a gift to the newlyweds. My brother and I went to Target last night, and we split the approximately $30 cost of a Brita water pitcher, which he’s taking to the wedding, seeing as he went to elementary/high school with the bride. I feel $15 is fair for an acquaintance’s wedding gift. (Side note: cost to me was actually $9, thank you bank-reward gift cards)

It’s just: with our society’s big, big parties and invite-everyone-you-ever-knew gatherings, I get invited to things, probably out a sense of obligation from someone. They’re inviting my brother or my parents or my co-worker, so they feel they should invite me, too, so I’m not hurt. And that’s kind. But it’s always kind of awkward for me–how many receiving lines can you go through saying, You look beautiful! Great wedding! as they smile at you, wondering what your name is. (OK, maybe exaggerating, but not by a lot.)

When I have a party or if I ever get married or have a baby shower, I’d like to just have the people I love that love me. It may be a smaller group–no 2000-person guest lists, as my random cousin is apparently choosing later this year for her wedding–and there won’t be as many gifts, but, in my opinion, that’s perfectly fine.

I’m Not Giving Up on My Jetta

The car dealership figured out what’s wrong with my car: a burned-out clutch. This is very good news. Why?

(a) They can fix it. (b) It’s under warranty. = $0 and I don’t have to get a new car.

I can keep driving my paid-off vehicle AND there’s even more good news!

Apparently, a burned-out clutch wastes fuel. So after the clutch is fixed, my car will be getting its best mileage, thereby saving me more money!

This is the best news ever.

(No, that’s not my car above. It looks like it, though. Image borrowed from this site)

Sometimes I Really Feel Like a Girl

I am learning that, at least when it comes to my car, I am all emotion.

A few hours ago, sitting outside a random Culver’s, watching my VW Jetta from a safe 50 feet away, it was all I could do to not start crying in public. While I had been driving home in insanely bad traffic, my car again put out a burning smell. This time, though, there was smoke. I turned on my emergency lights, moved to the right lane and pulled into the nearest parking lot, Culver’s. One phone call to Dad, and I was assured everything would be fine. While I waited, though, a few thoughts went through my mind, thoughts like, Maybe I deserve a milkshake.

I am also learning that, at least when it comes to bad days, I want sugar.

My dad was leaving the house to meet me, so we could caravan to the dealership, hoping, hoping to prove finally that my car really is possessed by some serious problem. So while waiting I wandered into Culver’s, my emotional voice saying, Yes, you should get a milkshake! You’ve had a bad day! It’s only a few dollars! and my rational, PF-brain voice saying, No, no, you cannot have a milkshake! You spent $18 ($18!!!!) dollars on a terrible lunch you ordered out with coworkers, one of whom just turned down the promotion she’d already accepted last week. You blew, what–like 30% of your restaurant budget?–on one bad meal. No, you can’t have a milkshake now!

And I am also learning, at least when it comes to money and life and relationships and work and time management and family, very little is easy.

How Movies Set Us Up To Want

If you, like me, find yourself more interested in movie characters’ real estate or wardrobes than the plots or story line, you’ll appreciate this post over at Escape Brooklyn.

In it, she cites a recent MSN Money article that points out the discrepancies between what movie/tv characters have and what they supposedly do for a living.

Among the examples are Eva Mendes’s character in Hitch, a gossip columnist with a $5,000/month-rent New York Loft and Ann Hathaway’s Andi in The Devil Wears Prada, who gets loads of free designer clothes at work.

I’d add the following:

Gilmore Girls: A beautiful Victorian house, all meals ordered or eaten out & gorgeous, new clothes every season… all on an innkeeper’s salary? OK, they couldn’t pay for Yale, but even still!

27 Dresses: Katherine Heigel’s character lives in a beautiful, vintage apartment in NYC. Her sister visits and calls it “cute.” I think we all know that had to cost a pretty penny. And she’s someone’s assistant.

The truth is, as a manager in the Chicago area making a mid-level salary, I can’t even afford a two-bedroom condo in my area. So do you think movies set us up to want more so that we’ll spend? Or is allowing us to pretend we can afford X, Y & Z part of a movie’s magic?

How a Saver Spends Vacation/Personal Days

It’s hard to believe, but my one-year anniversary at work is coming up, and with it, faster accruing vacation times and two new personal days.

The way it works is this: After your three-month probation, you get paid holidays and two personal days, as well as accruing vacation hours up to one week (40 hours). After a year, you start accruing up to two weeks over the next year, never able to earn more than 80 hours total.

(Random question: what are your personal/vacation days like? Are my benefits pretty normal?)

Even harder to believe than the fact that I’ve almost hit one year is the fact that I’ve use 0% of my vacation days and still have five hours of personal time left. California will eat three vacation days, and I’ll probably use some more this summer/early fall. The personal hours, all five of them, will expire if I don’t use them fast.

So, discovering this last week, I quickly filled out a blue slip for a half day the next Friday (today). My manager was funny, saying I didn’t have to use them. Um, let’s see: I came to work when I was tired/exhausted/sick/sniffly/etc., manned the office on Christmas Eve, have never, ever taken a sick day—and that was because I wanted to work more? HA!

I came then because I’d rather use the time for fun now. That’s just me.

How do you spend your vacation/personal days? Are you a spender or a saver, and does that match with your PF philosophies?

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.

On Fixing my Car and, Loving my Dad

Tonight, while driving home from work, my windows down and my radio playing, I realized my car was putting out a strong burning smell: the kind an older car has when its converters or mechanisms aren’t up to the latest environmentally friendly standards. Scorching chemicals, that’s what it smelled like, assaulting the air around me.

Thing is, my car is a 2001 Volkswagon Jetta TDI (diesel), not a 1974 beater. And it’s been in the shop three times in the past month, for this same burning smell, for a check engine light, for revving too fast when driving low speeds. Each time, the mechanics told us the same thing: we tested everything, and nothing’s wrong.

When I got home, my dad called the dealership where we take my car, and they agreed to look at it ASAP. Any plans I had for the evening were out–coffee with a friend, catching up on some e-mails, leisurely relaxing at home. Dad drove Jetta; I drove a family car. Dealership said they’ll keep it for a few days, and hopefully they’ll figure it out.

Possibilities? The catalytic converter ($1200 expense). This is what I hope it is, because VW is actually replacing these at no charge because of some faulty manufacturing. Something else (unknown cost). This concerns me because it could be anything (or “nothing”).

Dad hard-balled with the customer service lady, telling her we’re (he’s) not paying them to fix what they should’ve found in the very beginning. This is a waste of time, of energy, etc. She seemed unsympathetic, but I know Dad.

As cliche as this all is, is times like these I think how thankful I am for my dad. He’s given up three full days of his time already, taking my car in and waiting for them to fix it. And no matter how many times I’ve asked him to give me the bills (!), he won’t let me pay for it.

On top of everything else he’s given me, from braces to college education to 25 years of love, he sacrifices his time and energy to help me when I need him. I know a lot of people say parents spoil their children by giving them so much, and maybe that’s true. But, speaking as the one who’s received again and again, I am nothing but thankful.