its a mad mission

Not too long ago I was comparing city sidewalks to George Forman grills. I’m now changing that comparison to well-salted melty popsicles. It has been storm after snowstorm here, and the snow is sticking this year. I love it, actually. Not the walking on the sidewalks part so much as the clean snow covering the dirt part. The random trash, the hundreds-year-old grime, the occasional stench—all masked for a few blissful hours by clean, albeit acidic, white snow. It’s really beautiful. By the time you wake up the next morning, the plows have scraped it and the dirt underneath onto gray sidewalk piles. But the memory lingers.

***

Bill was at school Tuesday night, and I decided I couldn’t wait another day for a vacuum. Funny, isn’t it, how I somehow managed to overlook dirty carpets for a year (well, I beat them out or swept them with a broom, but that hardly does the job), and then all of a sudden, I couldn’t take it anymore. They MUST be clean. So with a gift card burning a hole in my pocket, I trekked out to Bed Bath and Beyond in Chelsea after work. Got me a real pretty Hoover, and then decided that the money I saved with a coupon was better put to a clearance dust ruffle than to delivery service for the vacuum. **Commence channeling of inner Xena.** I’ve never seen handle-making stations anywhere but the city. A guy is paid full-time just to man one at the exit. He wrapped the box numerous times with hardy string, then twisted on the handle, and voila! I was ready to roll. Too bad the vacuum wasn’t very light. It was a long 5 minutes to the subway, and an even longer 20 when I got off in Brooklyn. I’ve never been so grateful for that orange hand at the stoplight. But my rugs are now clean, and when wifey is happy, Bill is happy.

And now, a lighter post this week…

I guess I’d always assumed that everyone loves naming things as much as I do. Why wouldn’t they? You can say so much about a person, place or thing through just a small string of sounds –– letter combinations can sing or scowl. Lucy sounds like a nicer lady than Bertha. Living in Florence sounds preferable to Liverpool. And a Mac sounds more appealing than a Hewlett Packard.

Bill, inexplicably, does not have this same naming obsession. What? You don’t love naming your pet something that sounds cool, but not cliché, that makes a statement about that little critter’s personality? I loved the name of my family’s dog, Cassidy. Now it screams mid-90s to me, but when we found it embroidered on a dog bed in the L.L.Bean catalog, we knew it was the one. It SPOKE to us. Later, I titled my guinea pig Dr. Huxtable. Have I mentioned I have a special place in my heart for absurd or ironic names? Go ahead, name your pomeranian Brutus.

I think my name preoccupation is rooted somewhere in my love of language. When I was young, I read non-stop. I also wrote stories. Or rather, started stories. I would spend hours creating and naming the characters (I remember one of the titles, “Missing Millicent.” I sketched the cover, too: a victorian girl with sidelong glance, probably at the grave of her dead sister). I completed maybe two of these tales. But writing them wasn’t really the fun part for me anyway.

My house in S.C. was called the Little Yellow Bungalow, which also doubles for my imaginary rock band’s name. My camera’s name is Paco. My work computer is Jacopo (long story, but read The Count of Monte Cristo’s account of Edmond Dantes’ first encounter with his future servant). My guitar’s name is Damascus. My cherry red CRV was name Mr. Darcy. Our future children are Will, Lila, Jude and Ezra (friends of ours used names with four letters for all of their nine children—fabulously efficient for yelling at your kids, if you ask me!). Then again, I’ll probably have changed my mind by the time we have kids and end up with Victoria, Seraphina, Zacharias and Delphinium.

My own name, Jessica Ann, always seemed especially boring. During the 80s I wished with all my heart to be named Tiffany or Stephanie. Anything but the most common name the year I was born, followed by Ann WITHOUT an E. I figured ’81 was just an uncreative year for my parents. But a few weeks ago, I found out that I am named after my dad’s favorite guitar song at the time, “Jessica,” by the Allman Brothers. I have a renewed sense of purpose.

Are there any other word nerds out there who love names, or name any purchase over $200 like I do? I’d be interested in reading about some of them…

Bill and I want to get the school bill paid off in the next year and a half — a very aggressive plan, but we think we can do it. Neither of us have ever been big spenders, and we appreciated that in each other from the start. I may splurge occasionally on clothes, him on a good meal. But I do my own laundry, he walks to work instead of paying the bus fare, most of our apartment is Goodwill furnished, etc. I figured we didn’t really have a lot of excess to trim from our budget in order to save more. (See bottom of post for reasons to save, or visit Dave Ramsey).

But over the past few months, I’ve found out otherwise. The more I look for ways to save here and there, the more I find. I had assumed I paid minimum prices on food, medication, phone service, etc. But after a few experiences, I’m getting into the habit of questioning the price tags on pretty much every place our money goes. Here’s some of what has worked for us—maybe it will for you. I’m definitely still learning, and hardly a saving-money role model. And maybe this is totally uninteresting, “duh” reading. But maybe it isn’t.

Use less—Uncle Joey got it long before I did. I just need to cut some stuff out. When I use less, I spend less, waste less, want less. During school, a teacher had us write a paper, then cut it to half the words, then cut it in half again. By the end you had the most important content left. Moving to NY was a lot like that. I cut my possessions in half, got here and cut off more. Only the things I valued most stayed. I oftentimes don’t realize that the things I think I “need” to have, I just don’t.
Also, what I do have can be put to better use. I can still hear my mom yelling “Don’t use so much toilet paper!” I finally understand this concept, whether it’s using a little less shampoo or wearing my dress pants more than once before washing.
Does cutting down leave me wanting more? Not really. The less I shop, the less I want to shop. I don’t covet the newest sweater nearly as much if I’m not out at the mall.

Groceries—Or maybe Uncle Joey was referring to couponing. I’m ashamed to say what our grocery bill was before. I figured since we want to eat a minimum of nutritionless foods, convert to more organic, and live in the most expensive city on the east coast, that this wasn’t budging. But after a friend introduced me to moneysavingmom.com, I’ve reduced the grocery/household bill by $30 a week (so far). Doesn’t sound like much, but it’s 30% less than before. If I could reduce everything we spend money on by 30%, that’s a whole lot of savings. (I like to think in terms of percentages rather than dollars for this reason.) Trader Joes’ has great organic stuff, amazon is good for bulk, and Walgreens is fabulous for whatever is on sale that week. I’ve been stacking manufacturer’s coupons with WG coupons and getting about $50 worth of goods for $20, including some stuff for free (some people are really good at this and can come away spending nearly nothing each week).

Verizon—turns out teachers get a discount in NYC. We filed the paperwork and got 19% off our monthly bill.

Medications
Walgreens has generics for $12 a month. 50% savings for us.

Rewards Cards
I hate credit cards. Read: HATE them. So does Dave Ramsey. But we do have a BofA rewards card that we use for necessary large purchases (flights, school bill, etc) and pay off the next day. In the past half year, we’ve earned enough for a $100 amazon card, just paying for things we have to. Plus, for BofA customers, a bunch of NYC museums are free on first weekends of the month.

These are just a few examples. I’ve been reading blogs of others who post their 2009 savings goals, and apparently they have inspired me to blog about this too.

Reducing the amount of money we live on is not an end in itself (though it has become a fun game!). Rather, it’s a means to spending more money on things we value (Bill’s future seminary training, a house, etc.). It’s also a way to make sure we have more to give. You don’t need me telling you how much need exists in the world today. I’m realizing I’ve drowned people’s cries by spending on myself. I’m called to be a good shepherd of all God gives, and with His grace, I hope to improve at that.

Sometimes I get confused as to what that involves. Avoiding “Big Box” stores because I don’t like what they stand for? Getting the best deals so the money saved can go to our children’s college fund? Eating organically to best shepherd my body? Spending extra time with my husband instead of clipping coupons? Clipping coupons so my husband can work less? Patronize more expensive but locally run stores? The questions seem infinite and daunting—I’m prone to go to one extreme and disregard the other. That’s why it’s so important to be spending time in prayer and the Word, where God can speak to me each day, reworking my mind to balance my worldview while I sit at His feet.