My Frugal Roadmap

Ten things I do (or don’t do) to save money:

1. No gaming. I do not own a Playstation, Wii, Gamecube or XBox. I do have my original NES from the ’80’s; since it lives in its original packaging and I took care not to abuse it, the system survived my childhood with nary a scratch. If I MUST play video games, it comes out of the box.

2. No soda. Even without this item on my diet, I manage to spend far too much time with my dentist. The smallest amounts of sugar just deteriorate my teeth. I never cared for soda to begin with, and this is a good reason to avoid it altogether. Water is better for you. And it doesn’t cost anything at restaurants.

3. Speaking of restaurants, I rarely eat out anymore: it’s expensive and not ideal for those who need to stay healthy. Although I’m not a stickler for counting calories I must have at least a ballpark estimate, which is impossible when I’m not cooking the food.  

4. Limited gadgetry. My needs aren’t numerous: I have a nice cell phone, bought to replace the free one that fell apart on me, and an old iPod. I’d love to get rid of the latter, but I can’t stomach getting $20 for a device that originally cost $300.    

5. I take advantage of some great deals at CVS, but try not to haunt the store every week. If the item in question isn’t a necessity I won’t buy it, even if it’s free after rebate. 

6. I use coupons, but only if and when it makes sense. If generic cereal is $2, I won’t use coupons on a name-brand item that still costs $3 after the “discount.”    

7. I use the library. This cuts down on clutter and, as a student, this saves me a bundle every semester. In the event that I must purchase a book, half.com is the place to go. Paperback Swap doesn’t always have the best selection.

8. I know how to entertain myself by putting the items I already have to use. 

9. I don’t patronize movie theatres. The seating is uncomfortable, refreshments are stale and overpriced and there is no pause button for bathroom breaks. I have Netflix instead.

10. I question the item’s longevity before I buy. And whether or not it is essential.

The Aftermath of Music Addiction

College marked my initiation into the indie music scene. Looking back, being “indie” seemd like more of a fashion statement. Fellow fans who disdained the “corporate” music world often cited that as the foundation of their support. In fact, they talked about it a lot. My own reasons were a bit less politcal though no less steeped in snobbery: I sought an alternative to contemporary pop, and the indie scene provided a plethora of good music that never made it to the airwaves. Soon I was convinced that it was the only genre worth listening to: everything from howling hardcore to the same electronic loop wavering in and out on a fifty minute CD. Yes, I know: it is embarassing now.

After a few on-campus shows, I was sold. Literally. A flood of packages from obscure record labels started appearing in my campus box (and what college student doesn’t love mail?). I bought the shirts. I bought the hoodies. A rainbow of stickers covered my guitar case. I attended a few ear-splitting shows. And I bought the music, always new copies at full list price. Buying used just didn’t appeal to me. Sometimes I went to Best Buy and assured myself that I was getting a good deal. Best Buy is “cheap,” right? Soon my room was occupied with a glittering stack of music. It multiplied. I bought plastic cases to house the growing number of CD’s. I watched friends do the same–they were students like me. On the economic scale students are least able to afford this junk.  

Although I’m a bit ashamed to admit that not much time has elapsed between the end of college and the present, my musical tastes have evolved a lot since then. Don’t get me wrong: I still enjoy some of it and don’t plan to part with those CD’s just yet. But I must be honest: the tried-and-true’s are few and far between considering the quantity of music I amassed. Did I need it? No. Did I even like it? Most of them only got one listen. 

After a time, I arrived at a painful decision: it was a waste of money. Worse: I’m not using these CD’s. They add no value to my life whatsoever. The money I spent on them is gone. I cannot get it back. A lot of my stuff endured lengthy tenures on half.com before I hauled them out to used record stores. To date, I have sold over 50 discs. I will mostly likely unload another 50 before next spring. I don’t even want to think about the financial loss, though it doesn’t take too much brainpower to guessimate a respective ballpark figure.

Although it was a wasteful expenditure, I’m glad I realized that when I did. I’ve been acquainted with seasoned audiophiles and collectors who continue building massive music libraries. Maybe they are balanced in their listening rotation and use all of their dics in an orderly manner. But I could never keep up with what I had, unless I led the sort of existence that permitted me to wear headphones all day. 

Although I haven’t stopped buying music, the accumulation rate has plummeted. And I won’t even consider buying it new. Why pay $14+ when secondhand copies go from $1-4? Also, I think twice before a purchase, reminding myself that this music must have longeivity, and not become tomorrow’s (or even next year’s) trash.     

What is the present-day pay off? Clutter reduction, and a smaller, higher-quality music collection that is enjoyable. And having money in my pocket is a plus, too.

Respite

CVS is indeed a great place.

But over the past few months I’ve managed to amass more toothpaste, toothbrushes and mouthwash than I have teeth. Therefore, I’ve been asking myself some hard questions on the nature of my shopping. Yes, these bags of goodies I heft from the store every week contain everyday items. Useful items. But they are also multiplying like gerbils in my bathroom. Given the current state of affairs, I will be brushing my teeth from now into next winter with nary a concern about depleting my dental hygiene stock.

Let’s face it: This stockpiling is starting to conflict with my endless battle against clutter. I think it’s time for a break.

Note that I won’t discontinue shopping at CVS, especially for other items (eg. hair care, etc.) that come with ECB’s. But every week? Nah.

January 2007 vs. January 2008

About a year ago, I stumbled upon a wonderful website called Frugal For Life, which launched my interest and participation in the simplicity movement. Since then, I have implemented a number of healthy changes, especially where my spending habits are concerned.

I was reviewing my credit card expenses this month and thought it would be fun to pull out the statement from one year ago, to see how much I spent on my grocery bill and takeout food, and contrast those figures with expenditures from this month, in January 2008. What makes January 2007 and 2008 ideal contrasts? In January 2007 I had just started cutting back on a few unnecessary expenses. 

Let’s see what I spent:

January 2007:

Takeout food (including coffee and liquor): $74.06
Grocery: $116.46

January 2008:

Takeout food (including coffee and liquor): $38.53
Grocery: $100.61

To summarize: I spent $35.53 (%48) less on takeout meals and $15.85 (%14) less at the grocery store. My grocery expenditure has remained fairly consistent, although I am shopping at less expensive stores.

It doesn’t appear to be a significant difference at first glance, but keep in mind that the statements in question overlap with the last half of December. Despite the holidays, a time when one might be inclined to overspend, I still managed to curb my expenses and spent less money this time around than a year ago in 2007.

And although I don’t have an official record of the number of purchases for which I paid cash in either month, I do have records of several trips to the bank in January 2007. This month, I have visited only once — to open a Roth IRA.

Conclusion? It looks like progress to me! I feel like celebrating with some takeout pizza…

…just kidding.

Weekend Links Theme: Pinched!

A recent Business Week article indicates that economic worries have finally caught up to the affluent. High-end retailers like SAKS, Neiman-Marcus and Nordstrom have reported notable sales slumps in recent months. Not surprsigingly, Wal-Mart continues to thrive. There is a great disparity, however, between the news I read and what I witness in real life. Despite an economic slump, the weekend crowds at local stores and shopping malls continue to intimidate me. Everyone seems to be loading up on a plethora of items. Either they’re expert bargain-hunters, ridiculously wealthy, or maybe these are the folks who keep spending themselves into debt and denial. I don’t know.

And as an aside, I’ve been hearing some distressing news at Money Saving Mom about the future of internet coupons at CVS. I learned awhile back that Wal-Mart does not accept them. If this is true, I hope it takes them awhile to implement. CVS might lose some business if consumers lose out on savings.

But if you’re feeling pinched, there is hope. It is never too late to join the voluntary simplicity movement, either officially or unofficially, and take control of your financial health before (more) debt sneaks up on you.

Hyperconsumerism Is a Virus

Discretion and frugality are the vaccines.

The only thing I deplore more than celebrities and television commericials is the presence of celebrities in said commercials, hawking every commodity from sugary sodas to purses with four-digit pricetags. At some point, a svelte celebrity or miscellaneous pretty-face has fronted every scam for which I have fallen, commodity in hand, lips moving to the rhythm of a lifestyle that amounts to nothing but smoke and mirrors. 

However revolting, I must own up to my participation in the pop-culture whirlwind: I bought the lies, along with the goods, and ended up with an empty pocket from over-spending, poor health from over-drink/eating and a roomfull of clutter that, over time, became too tiresome and unwieldy to maintain.

Having the adequate resources to support said buying habits is one thing, but the overwhelming majority does not, howevermuch their unfettered auras and smart appearance leans to the contrary. Despite my tender years, I’ve witnessed too many individuals of all ages buying into a vortex of debt and financial ruin. Even the successful can run themselves aground. I reference an example from “The Millionaire Next Door” (a most revealing volume), in which a plain individual with a used vehicle parked in the driveway amasses millions of dollars in wealth through frugality, the proper channels of investing, hard work and determination. Cut to the six-figure income professional who lives in the nicest neighborhood and owns all of the material possessions money can buy. If the former is a millionaire, the latter is surely one too, right? Nope. He/she sinks every paycheck into commodities and maintains only $50,000 in reserve (e.g. actual wealth) to the former’s millions.      

Now. I do not intend to unleash a flood of sanctimonious garbage about the evils of material possessions. I do not champion a pauper’s lifestyle in order to save money. But one can strike a balance through selectivity and prudence. It is possible to live well on less, reserving the better fruits of one’s labors for more noble pursuits (helping the environment by eliminating waste? the ability to afford higher-quality merchandise? ditto the ability to pay in full and dodge interest-accruing installments? the reserve to withstand an emergency? retirement?). 

Even saving one’s money for its own sake is a glorious pursuit, yielding benefits such as control, industriousness and simplicity. They are truly underrated. Pay yourself first and such rewards may follow.

Happy New Year.