Nickle and Dimed

29 days later... and $315.

All things considered, my budget experiment went pretty well. I have two days left and one mandatory work-related-but-you-still-pay lunch. My mom even gave me $20 last week – I’m practically rich.

The play by play is pretty boring. Roughly $25 spent on office snacks (mostly caffeine), three restaurant lunches (which means 19 packed lunches). No shopping except one t-shirt (mandatory sailing crew purchase) and one pair of rubber boots (essential Halifax gear). Two nights out and two at the movies.

Granted, this doesn’t count the pre-reiumbursement $200 I dropped in Ottawa on airport, transport and meals. It wasn’t my fault that the continental breakfast was $12. I ate food in styrofoam containers but it adds up. Go figure.

It also doesn’t count $82 on paint supplies to re-do furniture or $60 on physio. My back was in rough shape, despite walking 5km to and from work because I can’t afford gas.

Now I have to make my budget experiment a permanent practice. For all those unexpected incidentals, (the un-official total being well over $600) well, that’s what student lines of credit and future well-paid jobs in my boring middle age are for. Right?

Barbara Ehrenreich revealed the dark side of the Merry Maids. I realized rejecting consumerism still has a price tag. Count your pennies kids, life is rough.

C.R.A.Z.Y.

Lunatics and lunacy have their roots in the word "luna", or moon, as it was once thought that the phases of our lunar orb played a role in dictating people's sanity. I should really check on whether we're waxing or waning...

Cristobal is pouring outside, but the bus is $2 that I'd rather spend on coffee and pears. Sticking to my Money Diet (I dislike the word "budget"), I decided that I wasn't made of sugar and maybe a little stroll through a tropical storm would do me good. It took me thirty very wet minutes to get from my place to the youth centre in the Square, and by the time I actually squelched in the door my make-up had smeared into something resembling The Crow in drag. My cute little boho scarf was plastered to my neck and I actually had to turn my purse over and pour the water out. Remarkably, the kids were unfazed. One of them pointed out to me, a little needlessly, that I was wet. I managed a watery grin (haha) and wrung out my hair and shirt over the sink.

Coming home, I took the damn bus.

(*"Moon Tarot" by Michelle Ewing-Juarbe; www.paintingfingers.com)

Rock Of Love

Oh God. Not again.

Because we've learned nothing from the fact that Flava Flav, The Bachelor and the casualities of The Pick-Up Artist are still solo acts, VH1 is going to be producing a third Rock Of Love season. Yet another overtly sexist and vaguely misogynistic "reality" show aiming to make our lovelorn celebs more "like us". This, of course, is assuming that you consider Bret Michaels a celebrity, a claim well-worth disputing, but more on him later (can you pick him out in that photo? Because I sure as hell can't.)

So sexual inequality and bad hair aside... why do I care?

Because I absolutely lap this show up like a cat with a saucer of milk. Honestly, the whole televised train wreck is so insanely addictive that you'd be a fool not to tune in, much less turn off. The first season was on when I had first moved to California and it was kind of this American baptism by fire... which I took to like a God-fearing salamander. The premise: groupies in denial vie for the affection of one Bret Michaels, AKA lead singer of Poison, the one hair-band that not only won't quit, but continues to tour without a shred of irony. Hmm, and I just said it was the groupies that were in denial...

This season promises to be even better than the last because all of the show's, ahem, contestants are going to be - ready for this? - strippers. Yessir, they're going to go from town to town in a stripper tour bus with Mr. Poison and, um, strip their way into his heart. Presumably there will be a stripper test of sorts to separate the chaff from the other chaff. I wonder how they'll send her off...

"The harem has spoken. Please collect your pasties and exit the Shag Wagon."

I'm dying here.

(Ed's note: inspired by angilio via no ordinary rollercoaster)

Jazzzzzzzzz Fest

It's Jazzfest in Halifax this weekend. And, while I know this will seem all kinds of sacreligious, I must concur with my friend Karen and her feelings on street festivals;

Like most self-important urbanites, I utterly loathe street festivals. After six years of living in the downtown core, I am so over street festivals that I will do anything in my power to stay out of their way. Why should I have to give up my city to hoards of 905ers on weekends and holidays? They clog up my transit, they fill up my favourite restaurants, they barricade the sidewalks with their slow walking...they're a public nuisance!

Thank you. It doesn't help that I don't like jazz. Jazz is like jogging; I want to like it, I want to be able to tell people that I like it, but goddamn. Allow me a grandpa moment here, but it just sounds like noise. You call it jazz music, I call it crap music. And while I'm hurrying down Spring Garden, trying to get to Pete's before the library before work, I'm blocked left right and centre by people that, I would wager, don't like jazz any more than I do. They're just better at posing.

Upside: Vespa Canada seems to have a stake of some kind, so there are a lot of scoots about. In spite of my terror of actually riding them, working for Vespa Canada during my last year of university has ensured them a warm and fuzzy spot in my otherwise curmudgeonly little heart.

Yo Ottawa

Stephen Harper is ruining my budget.

After a week of successful scrimping ($20 in the past six days) I am flying to our nation's humid landlocked capital. I'll be pining for the beach.

Given that most expenses will be reimbursed with a generous daily stipend, I think I can justify pulling out the VISA for a nice dinner or two and the rides to the airport. Maybe even room service. Budget exceptions.

All non-essential purchases must follow the budget. I may actually be able to "afford" Bluesfest tickets. Are you pumped because I am. Akon. Great Big Sea. Forget indie pretension. Moments and years of my life have been defined by their songs.

Except this budgeting is hard. I didn't pack a thick sweater. I'm getting dropped off at the Rideau Centre. Airplanes are cold. Aritzia is close. I recently spilt chocolate sauce on my favourite white zip up. Must not think of Aritzia.

I packed some muffins. Does that count as being enterprising?

The Other Paper Bag Princess

I don't keep track of my finances well, but I KNOW that I've gone over $10 a day. Let's re-cap, as best we can, the past week.

Monday: $5 on movie from Video Difference
Tuesday: $625 on rent, $4.50 on gelato with family (we may be Irish, but we go dutch)
Wednesday: $32 on groceries, $10 on light lunch with mom before she goes home to PEI
Thursday: $4 on public transit, $15 on Spanish lesson
Friday: $12 on groceries, about $8 of which is on grapes that I devour within 48 hours
Saturday: $40 on dinner with Simon (my treat, I didn't actually eat $40 worth of sushi... not that I couldn't!)
Sunday: $17 on groceries

I should tack on another $10 spent on coffees and other Internet-enabling refreshments. So that brings us up to... $149.50. I'm not counting the rent, it's just too painful ($774.50!!!)

Yeah, Liz is doing better.

In my defense, a lot of that ($57) was on groceries, and I didn't plan on Simon visiting OR my mom's visit and hence didn't budget for the extras that ensued. Surprises and the Superstore are what get me every time... today I've only spent $5 on coffee, but let's be honest, you know that I'm going to spend more on sustenance and libations before the day is through.

Boo-urns. I think we should sell ad space here, too.

Confessions of a Paper Pag Princess

First week:

Monday: $7 Primetimes bought for friends in exchange for beer and pizza. Good trade.
Tuesday: $1 hot dog. Decide (actually) to become a vegetarian. "Borrowed" beer from parent's fridge. Politely declined to party in favour of 8am work.
Wednesday: $5 office snacks and caffeine. Start new job - necessary.
Thursday: $15 emergency run for cold medicine and Kleenex. $5 on vegetable soup.
Friday: $17 buy new sunglasses. Blinding rays hard on cold-filled head.
Saturday: nothing, but friend spotted me for $3 milkshake. Officially broke and cheap.
Sunday: nadda (day at cottage trumps anything, always.)

Total: $50

Sypnosis: This was incredibly impressive, but deceivingly so. It was only possible because I acquired bronchitis on Tuesday and retreated from all social functions as a result. Apparently, being contagious and disgusting is good for the bank account.

Note: I was supposed to get a puffer but it cost $120. I don't have a health play. Luckily (?) family member recently had bronchitis and shared the love. No more black lung.

Pinching pennies

Could you spend no more than $10 per day?

I am starting a challenge. I will spend no more than $310 for the entire month of July. $10 per day or $70 per week or absolutely nothing after I reach my quota. Want to join me?

Since learning how to use a debit card in grade 6, I have had shopoholic tenancies. At night I fantasize about new summer dresses and cute sandals. But I feel guilty. Now that I'm trying to pay off debt, I feel overly conscious of every cent.

I have made budgets in the past and failed, miserably. Then I made a list of expenses for next year. I will be significantly more in debt by next April, and need to keep a tight rein on the finances until then. I can't rely on more credit than is available to me: a foreign concept.

So – the result was that I will have roughly $300 per month to spend on incidentals. This does not include my rent, phone, utilities, and I set aside $50 per week for groceries. So I should be fine, right?

Well, in a perfect world.

Theoretically since I live at home, don't drive a car and don't pay for food, now is the time to try this. It should be easy. It isn't. Being social depends on money. Even if I go for walks with friends instead of grabbing nachos, opt to rent instead of go to the theatres, and pack a lunch everyday, things add up. Peer pressure didn't end with succumbing to Mike's hard lemonade. Try being the one who doesn't want to splurge on an evening of half price apps and full price beer.

The thing is, I find that my perceived standard of living has gone up. My social life involves nice dinner and wine. I don't pre-drink, drink excessively, or go out that often, but a few cocktails every Friday at the bar adds up, to well, the equivalent price or two nights out in undergrad. Making this worse, half the people my age do have real world jobs and disposable incomes. I do not. [Sidenote: I nearly cried this morning when I saw that $150 of my most recent subbing cheque went to taxes. What is the point of being a socialist anyway?]

$310 in 31 days baby. This will be an exercise in self control. I may not succeed. I may have a emotional breakdown and lose it all at the mall. I may, however, prove that it is possible.

I'll keep you posted.