Frugaling

Save more, live well, give generously

3 Vital Decisions for Financial Fitness

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Winter in Iowa

Winter is here in the Midwest. A breezy, 20-mph wind cuts through everything. The roads have an icy sheen. My breath is eviscerated as I walk out the door. I choke. My commute — a brisk jog — is bone-chilling. With my backpack rustling back and forth, I gingerly move from foot to foot. Frankly, despite the cold and madness of running in work clothes, I’m going to miss these days. I’m going to miss the toughness of this work and school routine.

I can feel my time in Iowa City is winding down. Over the next year and a half, I’ll move on to my internship (similar to a medical doctor’s residency). That internship will be in a new location — new peers, new streets, new names, and… new weather. As one chapter closes, another opens, right?

The decisions I make today will greatly affect where I end up — physically, emotionally, and financially. The next couple years include challenging financial concerns and I want to openly process them with you. There are three domains of my life that I’d like to consider: possibly buying a car, planning for travel/lodging costs associated with internships, and potentially moving three times in three years.

To buy, or not to buy… a car

One and a half years ago, I said sayonara to a hefty car loan and excess liability. The 2006 Honda Civic coupe was cool, efficient, and reliable. But paying off an $11,000 car loan with little money leftover to save or afford repairs felt dangerous. So, I sold it.

Since then, I’ve used my bike and feet to travel nearly everywhere. While I didn’t need to lose weight, the decision has kept me svelte and fit. When all you have is your physical health to get around, you tend to take better care of yourself. Simply put, I’ve enjoyed being car-less — it’s freeing.

I don’t lavish browsing Craigslist and other used car websites, but I’m increasingly sneaking peeks. In the next couple semesters and moves, a car could help me immensely. I’ll use it to go grocery shopping, visit my girlfriend, and potentially move into a more affordable housing complex. Without a car, these tasks become exceedingly difficult.

Now more than ever, I’m conscious I might be trying rationalize buying a car. That can be financially disastrous. Thankfully, I’m engaged in a careful consideration — unlike my first car purchase, which includes:

  1. Talking openly with family and friends
  2. Browsing used car sites patiently
  3. Scoping out values, which will hold resale and reliability
  4. Considering two price points: dirt cheap and car loan levels
  5. Reviewing how I could potentially get by without a car

I’m motivated to try and buy a car in cash, but heavily limited by my bank account, the stock market’s recent decline, and the two following tasks: internship applications and two apartment moves in the interim.

When I look at my bank accounts, I’m seeing a tiny number: $3487.93. While I’m happy and privileged to have a positive number between my checking and savings accounts, I’m concerned. I make little net income each month as a graduate student. Buying a car would drain nearly all of my liquidity. It’s forcing me to be careful — along with the reminder that I hate debt. I desperately want to stay positive in my net worth. If you’ve got some special advice about car buying or an offer I can’t refuse, hit me up!

Let’s talk about your future, young man

My time in Iowa City always had an expiration date. Graduate school is a relatively fixed duration of 5 years here and then a year-long internship — 6 years total. Afterwards, it’s time to finish up the requirements and look for professional opportunities. And this final transition can be painfully expensive.

In 2011, the average out-of-pocket expenses for applying and traveling to internships cost doctoral students $1,800. When asking classmates, they’ve cited costs around $2,000-$2,500 nowadays. With this financial burden in mind, and aforementioned funds, I’m in a bind. In the best case scenarios, it seems I either use a major portion of savings towards a car — with little remaining for internships — or dedicate it towards internships and remain without a car. At this point in my life, neither sounds smart.

Worse, I might have to take out a car loan to afford the internship experiences or a student loan to afford everything else. Those are both worst case scenarios for my financial present and future. I loath loans and cannot envision them being part of a healthy budget right now. These aren’t home mortgages; rather, complicated instruments that encourage spending, manipulate critical thinking, and have led me into deeper holes.

One thing I can do is redirect some poorly performing investments into internship savings, follow a close food budget for the next year and a half, and pour every extra penny into internship savings. With this drastic action, I might be able to buy a car in cash right now, while continuing to save for this decision. This version is an ideal, though. I’ve learned that financial decisions are often controlled by unexpected and unpredicted events, but I can try.

Moving out, moving on

After four years of easy living in graduate student housing at the University of Iowa, I’m dealing with one of the sadder moments of my time here: being forced to move. Financially, the current apartments I live in have become financially burdensome. When I moved to Iowa City, rent was a competitive, amazing $435 per month for a one-bedroom apartment. Compared to the greater community, rent was dirt cheap and offered month-to-month leases.

Two years after I moved here, a private company built new buildings and prices skyrocketed. Next fall, rents will be $999 for a one-bedroom apartment. That’s $564 in rent increases. I can’t afford this place anymore. It went from graduate housing to luxury living for staffers and University of Iowa faculty making far more than fixed-income students. While complicated, it’s a symptom of the privatization of public resources and universities.

Despite the previous increases, I’ve stayed for consistency and friends. Now, it’s time to move out and on. I’m looking further out from the city center. Prices would be lower and I’d be closer to grocery stores. With my final year in Iowa right around the corner, this is an inevitable and financially necessary decision.

Although, despite savings in rent prices each month, I’ll need to afford moving costs and rental deposits. Even in an effort to save money, I’ll need to spend some. Oh, the irony! And the situation becomes even more challenging: over the next three years, I’ll need to move three times. Moving costs and new rental deposits will be a theme for my life temporarily.

In short, money is tight. Three domains necessitate savings, planning, and careful consideration. Purchasing a car, financing internship applications, and moving will drain my savings, but I’m dedicated to avoiding debt and making smarter financial decisions. Previously, I would’ve made rash judgments and rationalized them as “completely necessary.” I would’ve said “I need to buy this [insert expensive item here].” Today, my financial state of the union is better than ever, but precarious. I have to be careful and decisive — rational and reasonable.

Frugality, What Is It Good For?

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Toronto Harbourfront

When I talk about frugality, I tend to focus on saving money, living simply, and making more. It’s a winning combination. By combining all three components, I knocked out nearly $40,000 of student loans, a car loan, and credit debt.

Unfortunately, I sometimes develop fatigue from concentrating on ways to prevent spending. It’s tiring to always keep watch for wasteful spending, and easier to simply swipe a card.

Thankfully, strong reasons such as reducing climate/carbon impact and disdain for contributing to major banks’ profits keep me motivated. I have a purpose, rationale, and philosophy undergirding everything I do. Without these, I’d fall off the wagon and spend crazily again.

Ironically, part of the reason I live this way is to spend money. I mean it. I save and save and save to spend money. Crazy, right?

The difference, now that I’m without debt, is that when I purchase something, there’s no interest against me. I’m following the age-old wisdom of the financially privileged/savvy to be liberated from banks’ powers to constrict and restrict.

Without loans and carried credit card balances, I’m free. And now, I can spend it the way I’d like. So after all the money gets deposited, invested, saved, what do I actually spend it on? What are all these efforts good for?

Since I’ve embraced frugality, three major spending areas continue to be of importance:

1. Travel

I’m currently in graduate school, which keeps me restrained from many travel opportunities. Frankly, that’s probably a good thing for my budget. But every now and then, I can save and purchase a flight — all interest free.

Most of my money actually gets spent to see family twice a year. Although, this fall break I’ll be going to Colombia!

When I fly, I look for the best deals possible by shopping various sites, check my frequent flyer mileage accounts, and book about 1.5 to 2 months out. I tend to decline most forms of trip and travel insurance, as my credit card provides those benefits for free. When I land in a new destination, I immediately try to find local shops and supermarkets to try and stock up on a few snacks/non-perishable foods. This planning allows me to experience the local cuisine and cultural foods, while managing the budgetary blast.

Travel is exceptionally important to me, but it has a powerful price tag. I don’t offer unsolicited advocacy for travel and don’t recommend that people travel to some faraway place. The fact is that travel remains relatively expensive, and it’s one luxury that I’ve been able to partake in with a positive net worth. It’s okay if you can’t travel today. Save for that opportunity.

2. Charity

Recently, I released my first book, Frugaling: Save more, live well, give generously. The title seemed to summarize everything about this site. The latter aspect – giving – is one of the most significant reasons for my frugality.

Throughout my life I’ve always given money to charity. Regardless of my current debt load, I’ve made efforts to give to others in time and donations. Today, charity holds great importance in my life, as I can give without going into debt. Every dollar to my favorite charities doesn’t represent a dollar to a bank, which will be placed under a horrific interest rate.

I don’t have a set percentage, amount, or expectation for giving each year. Rather, I find causes over the course of the year that mean a great deal and/or donate to what’s consistently moved me. Two organizations that I regularly donate to are Doctors without Borders and the Always Remember Never Surrender Endowment.

3. Professional opportunities

As a graduate student, I get paid a small stipend to work and study. Soon, I’ll be applying for internships (similar to a doctor’s residency) for counseling psychology. That process may cost $2000-3000, but is an essential part of the process to get a Ph.D. Afterwards, I’ll hopefully be hired at a site and begin to have more substantial paychecks.

Having my own savings allows me to pursue various options for employment without going into debt. Additionally, the process of becoming a licensed psychologist, which I desperately want, requires a formal examination. The test costs thousands of dollars – not to mention the study materials. It’s another area I’m saving and planning for.

From travel to charity to academic opportunities, these options became possible after I paid off the debt. Previously, I used loans as a method for travel and adventure and even giving. But I was simply digging into a deep, dark hole of debt. There was little hope or light before. All I can say is that good things come to those who can cut costs and pay off their debt fast.

A lot has changed during my journey to change my debt. What you’ll notice is that I’m not saving for a car, house, or large physical objects. I’m a product of the Great Recession, skeptical of big banks, and not ready to make such financial commitments. As such, I cannot envision taking on a mortgage, car loan, or anything else at this time. For now, I’m free from the trappings of debt and living well.

So what is your frugality good for and where do you ultimately spend money?

Two-Year Anniversary Of Frugaling!

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Manhattan Beach, California

Discomfort: The catalyst for change

Two years ago, I sat in my then-girlfriend’s apartment in Manhattan Beach, California. Only a couple blocks from the Pacific Ocean, I felt like it was heaven on Earth. Frankly, I hadn’t found any place more relaxing and beautiful.

But that May 4th, 2013 was complicated for me. I was powerfully distracted by student loans. The numbers continued to worsen, and I wanted to stop the bleeding. The debt was hurtling towards $40,000. I was afraid I couldn’t or wouldn’t be able to reduce it as a graduate student.

Everybody in my life said they were proud of me — of making it to a Ph.D. program and helping others through counseling psychology. And yet, I felt hopeless to do anything about my financial situation. Doing good didn’t mean money followed suit.

I told my then-girlfriend that I was nervous. I told her I didn’t know what to do. I told her that when I was younger I used to write, blog, and share my thoughts. Maybe I could do that again?

Neither of us truly believed that writing could suddenly pay off my student loans and credit debt. I was green and naive, but my eagerness and openness pushed me into action.

The start of something good

With trepidation and giddiness, we sat down and talked about the idea of starting a website.

She asked, “What would you call it?”

We played around with some ideas — back and forth. Nothing really stuck. Or, when we liked something the domain name was invariably taken. Darn it! Maybe I was just too late in the game to join the personal finance community?

Then, as we decided to table the discussion, I suggested “Frugaling.” The name danced across my vocal cords and tongue with a playfulness, which also acknowledged finances. And there it was: available. I bought it immediately.

Energized, I sat down at the kitchen table and coded the basic structure of the website. I found a theme and we designed a header logo. The site was rough around the edges and certainly wouldn’t have won any design awards. With her help and my passion for personal finance, I wrote my first article. Half a day had rolled by, but it was live!

Would you marry me?

Initially, I asked my readers, “Would you marry me?” The question was bouncing around in my head ever since I was asked how much debt I had. I worried that having tens of thousands in student loans might hinder my chances at a loving, long relationship. Questions such as, “How would you provide for children?” or “How would you afford a mortgage?” stopped me in my tracks. I felt awful. After all, monetary concerns often break up marriages.

When I published that first article, I had four readers: mom, dad, bro, and Lisa. Each of them read the article, and supported my decision to start this website. Albeit, there was definitely some skepticism from them.

When I hit that “publish” button, I was awash with a familiar, but dormant, feeling. It was a rush of excitement and energy, which reminded me of a brief foray into opinion-editorial writing at my college newspaper. It had been years since I wrote publicly, and I was instantly hooked back in.

Over the coming months, a torrent of articles flew through my fingertips and onto the screen. I loved the feeling of being a writer, editor, publisher, and advertiser. I was doing it all in the cracks of free time that graduate school occasionally presented. And few even knew I existed. The love was in the process of writing, not the paycheck.

Shifting ideals, writing styles

To summarize and contain two years of thoughts, critiques, and articles is nearly impossible. The time period is collected and framed on this site for all to see. It’s a time when I hurt immensely, and saw few ways out of tens of thousands in debt.

My first articles were rudimentary. Inspiration came from other personal finance websites and, mostly, well-tread territory. Sadly, I’m not sure that I was providing earth shattering revelations.

Despite my skill level (or lack thereof), I enjoyed the process of sharing openly about debt. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t embarrassed, ashamed, and guilty about my choices in life. I was finally facing my demon.

As I continued to write, two things happened unintentionally:

First, my writing improved and developed a voice. I could write faster, and with greater clarity. My audience grew with every additional article. I learned how to write better by treating this process like a science. What worked? What didn’t? How could I improve my titles? How could I attract more diverse audiences?

Second, I noticed a missing element in the personal finance world. It centered on diversity. Many of the financial gurus and role models for debt-free living were white, middle-class, and had terrific educations. They didn’t represent the common person struggling with outsized credit and student loan debt. Writing about simple methods to save didn’t have the same caché. I wanted to appeal to an audience of disenfranchised and underrepresented. Suddenly, I took on more of a social justice role.

Look at how much I just made!

Steamboat Spring, Colorado

In late summer 2013, I climbed a popular trail in Steamboat Springs, Colorado. I looked down off the majestic mountain and saw only beauty. The summer sun basked upon me, and I soaked up the moment.

I had been writing Frugaling articles for about 6 months, and was enjoying a nice break from everything — school included. But there was a surprise awaiting me when my cell service came back. I was $500 wealthier.

Something must’ve gone wrong, I thought. How’d I just make about $500?! What happened? I checked my website and saw increased traffic to some key articles. People were actually taking up my advice and buying a product I was recommending. Four people had actually used my links!

I freaked out, and called the company that handled my ads. I immediately questioned the staffer, “Is this number right? Do you see this amount? Is this real money?” He calmly replied, “Yep, it looks good. We’ll just have you fill out some tax information because you’re going to be earning more than $600 this year.”

Over the next 12 months or so I would go on to make tens of thousands of dollars, repay my student loan debt, begin investing in retirement accounts, and create an emergency fund. My life was and will continue to be forever changed by this money. It felt like winning the lottery, and was completely unexpected.

The amount of money felt comical. Here I was, a naive, green graduate student with this crazy idea to start a website and write about my student loan debt. And the endeavor had rewarded me.

My out-of-debt mood

When the debt was squashed, my mood lifted. I saw my future with greater clarity, but more importantly, I recognized the importance of the present — this moment. The debt was this cloud that followed me around. I hated owing companies money.

Freedom comes to mind, but that’s too simple. Getting out of debt cemented a logic and rule change: don’t ever lend someone your future. I never want to be beholden to a behemoth bank again. From mortgages to car loans, I’m done.

Take your “age-old” advice and wisdom and shove it. That’s not for me. I’m a Millennial that has been caught up in a business-based system of higher education for too long. The debt that can incur is dangerous and restrictive. I don’t see “good” debt anymore. No, I just see debt.

If you forego the “features” and “great benefits” of debt-inducing products, life can be a bit more reserved and boring. I don’t travel often, I sold my car, and I tend to eat out once a month. Before my journey began, I was a crisscrossing world traveler, with a stunning car (and hefty loan), and ate out for the majority of my lunches. All on the take — with the interest running against me.

Debt is too frequently a cyclical problem that people unintentionally enter — myself included. Without debt, the cyclical problem cannot occur. Life will be restrictive for certain, but I won’t be working countless hours to pay back the moments I have now. And that’s worth focusing on.

Featured and published in big-time blogs

In time, Frugaling picked up steam. The traffic and subscribers increased as a result of featured articles and influential writers. Additionally, a massive viral article made the rounds of Reddit. There were over 100,000 views in a day! But even greater was the incredible honor of being shared by two of my favorite sites over these two years: Becoming Minimalist and The Minimalists. They were both inspirational in my writing.

The site is now growing exponentially. It’s rare to see a day with less than 1,500 visitors. There was a clear shift that occurred, where 5,000-visitor months became 5,000-visitor days.

I have an incredible group of over 1,000 email subscribers who contribute, comment, and email me. They’re involvement and commentary is vital — they keep me going. From Facebook to Twitter, people write their responses and experiences with depth and clarity. I’m impressed by their input, and humbled that they care to share.

Looking to the future of Frugaling

Frugaling has constantly been my “work in progress.” It’s never finished, I’m always tweaking the site and my writing style — trying to see what works and sounds best. The future of Frugaling is something that brings me great joy to think about.

Over the coming months, I will be announcing my biggest project yet for the website. I’m hoping you’ll subscribe to see what happens next, and help share the news when I announce it.

I’m excited and grateful to have an outlet like this, where I can share my thoughts, opinions, and lessons with an incredible audience. Thank you for being one of them. It’s a home for me to sharing about social justice, making and saving money, and avoiding the traps of debt.

We only have so much time in our days and lives. Your time is precious. I want to thank you for taking the time to read, subscribe, and comment.

Your friend,
Sam

I Have Zero Business Degrees

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My Graduation Day 2011

What are my credentials?

Frugaling is a personal finance website where I regularly talk about financial concerns. I provide advice to save and make money, editorialize social justice issues, and argue in favor of minimalism over consumption.

But you might be wondering what credentials I have to proffer this help. Well, that’s a funny thing: I don’t have any. I didn’t get a business-related degree — there’s no formal finance education or economics indoctrination. My words are informed by something greater, and my hope is that they’re not the rote, memorized drivel that many financial advisors spout.

As a kid, I always thought I’d pursue something in finance. In fact, I want to tell you a little story from high school. It was there that I decided that to pursue a financial career path would leave me deeply unsatisfied, but my passion for personal finance never stopped.

Sam, you’re on the line!

I was giddy, but tempered in my high school science course. In about 10 minutes I’d ask my teacher to step outside and make a phone call.

My battery was fully charged, but I had to find a better signal. There was a field, away from the building, that provided a comfortable amount of strength. I dialed the number; I believe it was somewhere in New Jersey. I stayed on the line for what seemed like an abominable amount of time.

Occasionally, a pre-recorded voice piped up, that encouraged me to stay on the line. Then, I heard Jim Cramer’s — host of Mad Money on CNBC — voice and he shouted in my ear, “Sam from Golden, Colorado…” I melted with nervousness, but miraculously stated a ticker symbol (which I cannot remember) for a stock I was interested in.

Stocks were more important than classes

My latter high school days were filled with these moments. While fellow students studied diligently for their ACTs and applied to elite schools such as Duke and Stanford, my time was spent reading, trading, and watching the stock market. Because I was under 18, I forced my mom to co-sign and create a custodial account on an online trading site. I was hooked, and I loved the adrenaline.

Numbers pulsed through me, and I would binge on stock charts for hours. I hogged library computers and printer time to map them. In hallways and breaks, I drew lines on the charts, and practiced what I saw in books and television.

As an autodidact, the stock market provided an endless supply of data to be analyzed and understood. And the spoils went to the most educated people. I wanted to be one of them.

One form changed my degree, life

College was the path I was expected to follow. While my parents and grandparents never “forced” that path, it was strongly encouraged. The university life was where people went from good to great. I was open to that potential.

I applied to two colleges. The one I wanted to go to, Colorado State University, accepted me, but didn’t directly admit me into business. My less-than-stellar grades and contempt of mathematics meant that I would be an “open-option” business student until I proved my competence via good grades.

Prior to departing for Colorado State, there was an open house session. I attended one event geared specifically towards open-option students. For one hour, an advisor talked about academic success and finding your purpose in college.

I remember rolling my eyes, as the cynic in me dreaded the activity to come. We were split up into groups and then given about 10 minutes to complete a form and talk among the members.

The form asked us some simple questions, but one stuck out; it read, “How would you use your degree?” Despite the stupidly simple question, I had not really thought about this question before. I saw a response, “I want to help others.” Then I thought about my business degree — something wasn’t quite right.

I went to my advisor as soon as school started and asked to switch to psychology. There, I envisioned being able to listen and talk with others through their problems. That would be a degree to “help others.”

The psychology of money, spending, and society

After undergrad, I applied to graduate school and got into a counseling psychology doctoral program at the University of Iowa. I still wanted to follow the goals set forth in that open-option day. But in the back of my mind I recognized that investing and money issues still held great interest.

I still invested and read everything I could get my hands on regarding the stock market and business. I changed career paths, but my intrinsic passion for personal finance lingered.

As my own debt and spending spiralled out of control, I started Frugaling to right my course. It worked. I paid off about $40,000 of debt in about a year. I completely revamped my life — now incompatible with wanton spending and extravagances.

But I also started Frugaling as a perfect combination to meld my converging interests. I found that people’s (me included) monetary issues were closely linked to psychological concerns, distress, and stressors.

Psychology and business weren’t divergent topics. Additionally, I realized that most financial gurus blamed personal responsibility and character flaws on poverty, bankruptcy, and inadequate financial planning. There was room for a different voice — informed by psychological concepts and real counseling work with people suffering.

I’m not a financial-affiliated spokesperson

Over the nearly two years that Frugaling has been around, I have become an increasingly more passionate advocate for the underdogs. Financial markets are deeply unforgiving and unequal. People need to stand up and help others across diverse, multicultural backgrounds.

I ask you not to trust me for my financial degrees and letters after my name. I ask you not to trust me for how much money I’ve made for other people. I ask you not to trust me for being personally wealthy. I ask you not to trust me for my reputation (or lack thereof).

All I ask is that you consider the possibility that financial voices of reason come from those outside that insular world. I’m here to stand up for those who’ve been drowned out for too long. And I’m excited to continue building an audience (you included) that is inspired into action over social justice concerns and reducing consumption.

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