27 going on 60

I am the only person I know, who, in their late 20’s, gets short of breath (in the bad way) when thinking of retirement savings. I can’t help it.

My co-worker Courtney called me neurotic as I sat fidgeting in her office chair waxing poetic about long-lost private-sector pensions. I recently found out about how lush teachers’ pensions and benefits can be, and have been nursing a mean jealous streak ever since (and the urge to ditch it all and become a teacher). I tell Matt things like, “We need a Vanguard account!” (Note: I know nothing about mutual funds or Vanguard accounts…I just like to say it). Matt tells me to, essentially, shut-up. “We have 40 more years to figure this out,” he says. The thought of working 40 more years is almost as depressing as our bleak financial future. Sometimes he says, “You might not even be around 40 years from now, so quit worrying.” (Lovely.) He follows that up with, “We’re young – who do you know who puts money into their 401(k) like we do?!” to which I reply, “EVERYONE!” and bury my face in my pillow. In a moment of panic this week I upped my 401(k) contribution from 10 to 15% and demanded Matt do the same. I also like to say we need a Roth IRA. I have NO IDEA what a Roth IRA is but I heard Suze Orman talking about them, and I want one.

Two weeks ago I announced, over omlettes, that we needed a budget. “We need to control our spending!” I huffed. Mid-chomp, Matt said, “What spending? I don’t buy anything,” to which I replied, “Well, I do.” We then logged on to view my credit card statement and, after subtracting things like food and gas, I was left with what I spent on a skirt and dress and some odds and ends I picked up at Target. I replied that they were obviously necessities and they didn’t count, but the crux of my argument was that, “You’re a guy; you wouldn’t understand”, which I don’t think he bought. So much for our budget.

I wouldn’t call us particularly thrifty, and we’re definitely not spend thrifts. We’re just…normal. I will forever be a champion of economy cars and the thought of having a Coach bag just ticks me off, but I love going out to eat and furnishing our home (relatively cheaply, of course). And damnit, if that frilly skirt is $100 bucks but I swear, swear, swear I’ll wear it all the time and I love it and I won’t buy another thing that month, then YES, I’m buying it. Look, it’s all about balance. And a good skirt.

I bring this up because I also worry about medical expenses. For example, like many of my surgical Crohn’s brethren, I have to bear a monthly B12 shot for the rest of my life. The negotiated rate with my insurance carrier (I am on a high-deductible plan, so I essentially pay in-full until I meet my deductible, but all “in-full” prices are the negotiated and preferred cost through the carrier) is $156. One hundred and fifty-six dollars for a shot of …a vitamin. Per month. Negotiated rate. The “negotiated” rate for Pentasa, my maintenance drug, hovers slightly under $500 a month. So, yes, I worry about money. And insurance. I think I should.

It is a bad thing to have Crohn’s and be a neurotic worrier. Stress makes my symptoms worse. And duh, stress also inhibits your ability to conceive. Last month my ob/gyn told me I need to reduce my stress. This statement elevated my stress. Couldn’t she see that was futile? That I’m having trouble with work, with trying to had a kid, and by golly, with the fact we have no retirement savings and no solid plan in place?! I thought that but all I said was, “Okay.” That’s pretty much how it always goes.

Matt will often sit me down and say, “What can I do to help you relax?” The first answer is always food. Tortilla chips or chocolate are often involved – but that really goes without saying. After that, it gets a bit grey. I’d like to believe I’m the least high-strung member of my family – it’s in the genes. But I ask for impossible things. Past answers have been, “New intestines and/or immune system”, “my own dog hotel business” (no laughing!), “you making 200k a year or winning the lottery”, and “a 30 minute back rub” (trust me, the last one is impossible). He’ll respond with, “Well, what about one of those puddings in the fridge?” “With whipped cream on top?” I’ll ask. “Yes.” “Deal.”

Now if you’ll excuse me. I have to go study for a test I have tonight that I’m worried about.

PS: You may have noticed (well, probably not, who am I kidding?!) that my posts have been less frequent. I’m enrolled in a class that will hopefully prepare me for a professional certification exam I’m taking in May. It would be a lie to say I have no time to post, but I love to watch t.v. on my time off. I adore t.v. I am nothing but an uneducated commoner, what can I say?! Posts until the end of May might be less frequent, but don’t worry, they’ll still be filled of my complaining (about health care, money, oh, you name it!) and of course food (that’s a given!).

Tuna Cakes

This is the poor man's crab cake, y'all.

I LOVE crab cakes. But because I like to pretend I'm dirt poor (and because they are expensive, come on now), I instantly jumped when I saw this recipe, originally from Kraft. This is the poor man's crab cake. First off, there is no crab. It's canned tuna, which is trashy enough in and of itself, but to top things off, they have lots of filler too, which is a definite no-no in the crab cake world. Swoon, I did.

Poor Man's Tuna Cake

• 2 cans (6 oz. each) light tuna in water, drained, flaked
• 1 pkg. stuffing mix (for chicken)
• 1/2 cup red onion, finely chopped
  
• 1 cup shredded cheddar cheese
• 3/4 cup water
• 1 carrot, shredded
• 1/3 cup mayo 2 Tbsp. pickle relish (I have used both dill and sweet)

Directions

Mix all ingredients. Refrigerate them for 10 minutes while you gussy up a salad or something for a side dish.

Tuna mixture in all its glory.

Heat a skillet on med-high heat. Spray with cooking oil. Use an ice-cream scoop to add 1/3 cup scoops of the tuna mixture to the skillet. (Or just a spoon like the rest of us poor folk.) Flatten the patties with a spatula and cook for about 3-5 minutes on either side. Carefully flip and cook for an additional 3-5 minutes.

My flattening skills are second to none.


Dinner is served.

Mo' Money, Mo' Problems

Okay, here we go. This is a list of obtusely obvious (very obvious, as in "duh"-inducing) dough-saving tactics Matt and I have employed. I'm looking to go five steps further. Please let me know of anything you can think of! I'm talking full on, money saving tips (like even making our own detergent!).

• No cable (but oh, how I miss Bravo, I mean, no Top Chef, no Project Runway…what’s a girl to do?!)
• No landlines (I was even going to ask my work for a Blackberry, but then I rethought it since they’ll be getting more cheap labor out of me, and I’m all about dodging additional work.)
• Always generic – or cheapest available (Nutty Nuggets in lieu of GrapeNuts, anyone?)
• Limit restaurants/bars (This is easy because we don’t have much of a life, but we only go out to a restaurant once a week at most, and unfortunately, Matt now considers Panera Bread fine dining.)
• Stay at home more – board games / internet / reading (We just made a very smart investment in Scattergories – no game library is complete without it, I dare say!)
• Books – library / used books on Amazon (Why buy new? Even with the $3.99 shipping on the used books on Amazon, books often run below $2!)
• Drugstore and generic beauty projects (Don’t even get me started on that zany La Mer cream.)
• Target (NO Wal-mart) (I am a huge advocate of Target. When I go to career fairs to promote my own company, I often salivate when I spot the Target table. They’re always SO HAPPY as they joke and jostle one another in their bright happy red sweaters. But I digress…I buy 2/3 of everything at Target. Home stuff, clothes, personal hygiene products. One word of advice, though: avoid the cardigans. They always lose their buttons.)
• Limit take-out to no more than 1 x / week (We only do take-out if we haven’t actually had dinner out that week. I should add that, in addition to Panera Bread, Matt also fancies Panda Pavilion down the street. He is a man of fine taste...and after my own heart.)
• Take lunch to work 4 out of 5 days (YUM! A ham sandwich…..again.)
• Cheap, fuel-efficient cars (Don’t approach me if you own a luxury car or a SUV. Yes, I’m exceedingly judgmental. Do you have somethin’ to say ‘bout it?)
• Wait for movies to come on Netflix (Okay: Matt and I don’t go to the movies too frequently. It’s always full of 14-year-old girls. But, if we do go, we go in the afternoon and….wait for it…..see two. As in sneak into the second. I’ll come clean…we once had a very close call at Ratatouille. (Again, we’re bad asses.) The theater was filling up fast and we were afraid it was sold out, meaning we stole two seats from two paying patrons! But, like good little petty crooks, we sweat it out and ha! If there weren’t only a couple remaining seats in that theater. Yes, we are THAT BAD. And I won’t even go into all the sugary contraband I’ve stuffed in my purse throughout the years.)
• Make baked goods for gifts (My parents are almost 60. Hi Mom! What the heck do they want that they didn’t already get for themselves? I mean, they’ve had almost 120 years between them to accumulate all the material desires their brains could concoct. So, since I’m “po” (see last post) and I think they have everything their hearts could desire, I often just bake them something. Usually this works out well, except for last time when my mom said our gourmet cookies were “hard”. Umf!!)
• Boxed wine (Like we can even tell good wine from bad wine. Pah-leeze.)
• Buy only used video games (I do not condone video games, but Matt is under the impression he has his own free will or something, so often buys them. Thank god the lad only buys used.)
• Make soup and freeze it (My god is soup cheap. I wish I followed this more, actually.)
• Install CFL lightbulbs (If only the lighting could be more flattering.)
• Low temperature at all times - and shiveringly low when we’re not home (I mean, that’s why a dog has a fur coat, am I right?! Poor Penny…)
• Almost always use our credit card on purchases to get “cash back”, which tops out at a respectable $600 a year between us (The only downside? Looking at my startlingly huge statement. Which is weird, since I’m cheap and all.)
• Moderately-sized home (Please see previous post.)
• Ditch red meat (This is easy because I never was a huge advocate of red meat. It rarely agrees with me and again, it’s pricey and I’m cheap. It’s also positively atrocious on the environment. However, that doesn’t mean a girl can’t enjoy the occasional burger and spaghetti and meatballs, right?)
• Making own beer (Matt makes and bottles his own gross beer. You know how Guinness is a dark stout? Well, Matt’s beer is an uber, uber stout. It’s the real deal. And a heck of a lot cheaper than the mass-produced stuff.)
• Low-key vacations (I’m going to a work conference in Las Vegas in June. Since I am nothing but an opportunist, Matt decided to tag along and we’re flying into Arizona and visiting the Grand Canyon before heading to Vegas. You know, see the awesomeness that nature made before seeing the tackiness that man made.)
• Online bill pay (Stamps are gettin’ up there.)
• Magazine subscriptions - a few - to avoid the temptation at the checkout line (Not that I subscribe to anything remotely frivolous. No, not me.)
• No printer at home (I don’t have a kid doing school projects, so why do I need a printer? We just print the few things we need at work. SHHH…)
• Limit dry cleaning (This comes naturally to us since 2/3 of our clothes are from Target, and well, Target clothes do not require fancy smancy dry cleaning.)
• Online news sources (I do feel guilty about this one since I’m contributing to the downfall and all of print journalism…and I was a journalism major. But a girl has got to do what a girl has got to do! Why buy a newspaper when it’s free online? And the print won’t smudge on your fingers to boot!)
• Mull over all pricey purchases (Matt bought a $130 keyboard that he mulled over for TWO MONTHS.)
• My father-in-law cuts Matt’s hair (and who are we kidding? Guy hair is guy hair, it’s all the same.)
• Adopted our dog (We saved her life and she was free; can it get any better?!)
• Always check for free shipping online (In this economic climate, every retailer is offering it. Google online free shipping or promo coupons before hitting the electronic check-out.)
• Cheapo wedding (I will, never ever EVER understand brides who want a “fairy tale” wedding that is fifty or a hundred grand. Your wedding is over in mere hours! I mean….WHY?! Matt and I went totally cheap on our wedding: my dress wasn’t a wedding dress and it was $120 (and totally appropriate for our garden-style intimate soiree), and we really took full advantage of the sweat equity Matt’s parents and aunt graciously provided. (Thank you Hopkins!) And it was beautiful and simple and above all, affordable.)

Now it's your turn! ;-)

Two dumby DINKS

There is only one positive to our current economic crisis: My cheapness is now considered responsibly chic! Call me Recessionista Kathryn.

My cheapness does have a few drawbacks. Matt and I spoke about possibly going to the Camden Aquarium (recently watching Plant Earth's "Deep Sea" episode inspired me to connect with my inner fish) but after I looked at the price ($30 per person) I resigned myself to another lazy Sunday. But then - conversely (and I'll use a "fish" theme here) - we'd throw down that much for sushi at our favorite struggling Asian joint (Jasmine House in Trappe, PA - they know our order when we walk through the door and last time we scored free sake and dessert from our regular patronship!). I'm not a girl without hypocrisy, what can I say?

And I sometimes have absolutely no dignity about my "frugality". When at my parent's home I often rummage through their pantry when my mother is out-of-sight, stashing jars of Thai simmering sauces and cans of corn. My mother always spots me (someone my size isn't the most stealthly) and would admonish my behavior as she grabbed my purse and seized the hot goods. I'd protest and say, "Mom! We are PO'!" (So poor, in fact, I couldn't apparently afford the remaining "-or" in "poor.") Needless to say, she ignored my protests.

Most recently she called Matt and me "DINKS". I think she may of gotten this from my sister, who thinks she's the foremost authority on everything. (Hi Kristen!) So I asked my mother what the heck is a DINK and she said, "You are not poor, Kathryn; quit it! A DINK stands for Dual-Income, No Kids." Well, excuse Me for not popping out money-grubbin' babies in my early twenties! Because of this, I am chastened and not allowed to steal canned goods from you?!

In reality, Matt and I are not poor, no matter how much I belabor the point to my mom. We both still safely have our jobs (fingers crossed), are paying off our mortgage early, and socking away a healthy sum to our (now pathetically-dwindled) 401(k)s. But that doesn't make me any less worrisome about what could be. My mind often dwells on healthcare - if I had to buy my own healthcare, well, I couldn't. No one would cover me because of my Crohn's, and that makes me positively sick (well, sicker). I won't get on my soapbox but I will say this: It's disgusting that healthcare in this country is a privilege and not a right. Amen.

So I've been thinking a lot about our consumer culture. A friend once saw our home and said it was a great "starter house". Whaaa??? When did a four bedroom, two and a half bath house become a starter house? (No, it's not terribly big - we have one eating space and one family room - no formal dining room and no "den" - and why would we want to decorate, heat, and cool all those extras?) So, I think that comment totally encompasses our consumer culture.

Thinking about it even more, I started jotting down what Matt and I do to save some bucks, and started thinking what we could do to further our thrifty habit. (I dream of the day we no longer have a mortgage - whenever that is!) Tomorrow I'll share some random (and obvious) things we do, and please let me know of anything I may have missed. Share your ideas with two very eager cheapskates!

Now I must go, as I think there is a stinkbug crawling on me.