"Please, sir, I want some more."

One of my goals this month was to ask Columbia for more money. For those of you who aren't entirely up to date on my funding situation (tsk, tsk!), I have what could be considered a generous package from my school, which is notoriously stingy with its MFA students.

I hadn't even considered asking for more, but then I read Fastweb's (rather salaciously titled) "The Financial Aid Secret That Can Earn You Big Bucks":

The yearly phenomenon known within the financial aid community as the "summer melt" is working in students' favor -- this year more than ever -- offering the opportunity for extra financial aid that previously didn't exist. And if you're one of the few students who know the secret, you can get more cash than ever before.

The summer melt happens every year when students decide at the last minute not to attend a college, leaving their financial aid package on the table. That cash then goes back into the pool of resources -- and becomes available for students who know to ask for it.

In fact, all you have to do is ask nicely.

Oh, really?

My fellowship had already been bettered from the initial offer, without any prompting from me. So I was initially reluctant to reapproach the school, since I think my chances of getting more are slim--but it would be downright stupid not to, with such a potentially big payoff for the time it took to compose a short letter and the price of postage.

I kept several things in mind as I was writing:

1. Be unfailingly gracious. Yes, I think it's asinine that a school with a $7.15 billion endowment can't pony up the dough to provide full tuition remission and a living stipend for some poor arts students. Can't they just think of it as a noble act of patronage? But whining or grumbling about my pittance isn't exactly endearing, and besides, 1) I knew that funding was poor when I applied, and 2) the specific departments that parse out student packages only have so much funding themselves. Instead, I expressed my sincere gratitude for being admitted and being funded.
   


2. Reiterate your commitment to attending. Yes, other people might have dropped out of the program, but not me! ...So, you know, give me their money. Another tactic might be to say that you won't be able to attend without additional money or that you have a competing offer, but I think it's best to try that before you send in your deposit. At this stage, I want to suggest to the school that they should invest in me because I'm committed and serious about attending.


3. Briefly highlight your unmet need. One sentence is all it takes, as a gentle but not overbearing reminder that your full financial need has not been met.


4. Detail your recent achievements. Because so many fellowships are merit-based, it doesn't hurt to let the school know that since you submitted your application, you've done X, won Y, and published in Z. Kill the urge to be self-deprecating about your accomplishments; I waffled over whether or not I should mention my latest (only) publication in a literary journal, but so what if it's not the New Yorker? Even a small recognition is still an indication of merit.
   


5. Copy your department chair. It's good to keep him/her informed, and frankly, s/he probably has a better understanding on the significance of your accomplishments and might be able to advocate for you.
   

I sent my plea off at the beginning of the month, and I have my fingers crossed. If it doesn't work, I plan on sending another letter in the spring to talk about my second-year funding. If it does work... well, then I'm definitely sending another letter come spring!

College Money Network

Like man, no blog is an island, and so, I'm happy to announce that MFA or Bust is now part of the new College Money Network, a group of personal-finance blogs geared toward discussing issues of interest and import to college-age folk--that is, current students, recent grads, grad students, etc.

My fellow CMN bloggers are:

• Broke-Ass Student
• Broke Grad Student
• Green Panda Treehouse
• Poorer Than You
• This Writer's Wallet

Our combined blog brainpower will bring you, Dear Reader, a treasure trove of information on finding financial aid, budgeting for a student or newly postgrad lifestyle, saving on a shoestring salary, and more.

Fiscal disobedience

There's a fine line between frugality and miserliness, and I don't want to cross it.

I like being frugal. I like the financial tidiness of a budget (even if I don't always follow it exactly), I like paying myself first, and I like finding ways to simplify--not diminish, but simplify--my life. But I do it all because I love the prospect of being financially independent as early as possible, and I also love being able to indulge meaningfully now. Or at least, I used to.

For the past few months--actually, ever since I got out of debt--I've been grappling with guilt and anxiety over my lifestyle. A shrill voice goes off in my head when I'm having a nice dinner (That wine is so marked up! You could make that $25 entrée at home for $12!), or when I'm shopping (You don't need an $18 makeup brush! Just use your hands!), or--most disturbingly--when I'm making plans for friends (That place doesn't have a happy hour! You can only have one drink!).

I think it's healthy to live modestly. I don't think it's healthy to agonize over the price of every last little thing. Especially if you can afford it. As evidenced by, say, the fact that you're saving over 50% of your take-home income.

Yes, I'm going back to school, so I need to save money so I can cover the shortfall in living expenses. And yes, it might be a while before the Boy finds a new job, and I want to be able to help him financially until he does.

But I'm okay. I'm more than okay. I am saving enough, I will have enough to keep me comfortably afloat in school, and I can help my Boy. And if I'm accomplishing all these things--the things that are really important to me--it's petty and stupid to stress out about whether or not I "deserve" a nice meal, or a fancy makeup brush, or cocktails with the girls.

So from now on, I won't.

July 2008 Goals

Hmm. Well, time to recalibrate things for a bit--with the Boy jobless, I'll be picking up a greater share of groceries and the tab for discretionary fun (that sounds kind of naughty, doesn't it?), so I'll have to cut my travel-fund contributions down for a while.

For July 2008, I'd like to...

Send at least $1,430 to my savings account.

Send at least $120 to the joint travel fund. We're now aiming more for "upstate bed and breakfast" rather than "Caribbean resort."

Ask Columbia for more money. Hey, you never know.

Borrow and read three public-library books. I have a pretty bad used-book habit, and even though buying them can support a good cause, I need to cut back.

Go to the doctor's for a regular check-up. Yay, health insurance!

Finish one creative work. Yeah, my writing goals are getting more and more modest.

Stop eating as many processed foods. Despite my foodie stylings, I'm secretly a microwave-dinner enthusiast (Amy's, if that makes a difference!). For the most part, I eat very well, a habit abetted by my CSA, but I think I could do better, by striving to cut out refined grains and anything containing high-fructose corn syrup from my diet.

June 2008 Goals update

Looking back over the month, I don't have a good feeling about facing up to these goals. But let's see how I did:

Send at least $1,430 to my savings account. Check. I sent exactly $1,430 to savings, so my emergency fund is looking healthy at over $4,000.

Send at least $300 to the joint travel fund. Fail. I managed $245 and couldn't find another dollar left to squeeze in.

Rework my budget so that the above is actually achievable. Check. My new budget is pretty unforgiving, though, and I'm obviously having trouble adjusting.

Bring something nice for my parents on my visit. Half-check. Oh, it was nice--I got five photos of their new home (I took some the last time I went down) printed, then bought five nice frames and framed them. I also shipped them down, since the entire package was too big to carry onto the airplane, and I didn't trust checking them. My parents loved everything, but the whole thing cost me nearly $100--$14.92 printing, $55.41 for frames, $2.16 for photo corners, and $27.20 for postage (certified priority, plus insurance).

Go for a three-mile run three times a week. Epic fail. No excuses. Sigh.

Submit one creative work and pitch one article for publication. Another epic fail. I do have one promising creative work currently in ferment, but it's far from done. And I didn't even so much consider a topic for a pitch.

Eat all my veggies. Check. So far, so good! The baby greens, cabbage, and lettuce went quick in salads, and I also used the cabbage for cabbage rolls, with ground turkey. The basil and scapes went into that delicious pesto, which we're still enjoying. The herbs have been used everywhere, from scrambled eggs to baked chicken, and the Boy is a real radish fiend. He did our pickup last week and brought home kale, scallions, lettuce, beets, and cheese (I think he may have missed some vegetables, but oh well). Last night, I braised the kale in some homemade chicken stock and tossed it with whole wheat pasta, pesto, and chicken. We also ate the whole head of lettuce (that sounds impressive, but it wasn't very big). Tonight, I'm trying out this recipe for kale, sausage, and bean soup (substituting fancy hot dogs for sausage, though, since it's what we have).

About a Boy

To begin at the beginning, recently, I've been helping the Boy sort through the morass of his financial life. The Boy has many charms and talents, but he's utterly clueless about personal finance. I doubt the guy has ever even flirted with the idea of putting together a budget.

Pre-layoff, we were working on getting things in order. That included pulling his credit report... and I'm afraid to say that it doesn't look good. Besides his many youthful financial indiscretions, the Boy is also cursed with a poor memory for financial details. As in, he can't really remember if the account information listed is actually his. Which is making weeding through all the information pretty difficult.

Some of the negative information definitely seems to be zombie debt. There's one $6,000+ medical debt, which is currently in collections, that the Boy settled in 2004 (he called the original creditor, and they have the account marked as paid, so who knows what happened) as well as some other suspicious accounts. I'm now well versed in the finer points of the Fair Debt Collection Practices Act and have been drafting debt-validation letters--which is oddly satisfying. We're aiming to deal with one item each week, with the goal of killing off the zombie debt for good and settling any valid accounts. Most of the negative items will drop off by 2010 or 2011, and in the meantime, we're also trying to build up the positive side of his reports.

To that end, I've added him as an authorized user to my American Express credit card. I know that FICO scores no longer factor in authorized-user accounts, but we're less concerned with his score than with his reports. We'll also open up a card in his name sometime soon, which he'll use to pay some of his regular bills, like his cell phone.

Right now, I'm--hmm, what's the right word, well, erm--administering his money. A month ago or so, he setup his direct deposit to go into my checking account, and his other monthly bills are being charged to my Amex. Mind you, his bills are paid with his money; it's just me doing the paying and budget balancing. My own habits are now so deeply ingrained, the added responsibilities don't seem like much.

Lately, we've been playing so much catch-up and dealing with various one-time expenses, we haven't been able to save much for the Boy's emergency fund--just $622.34, $500 of which is from his recent stimulus check. So really, he doesn't have any cushion. He has some money in his 401(k), but cashing it out is a last resort.

He has a month's severance and some sick time/vacation pay coming to him, so we're not in immediate trouble. He has some job prospects, but his is a competitive and rapidly shrinking industry, so I think it's wise we have a Plan B. Right now, I'd be thrilled if he could find something by the end of the summer--so, two months from now.

However, we're faced with the more immediate crisis of what the hell to do about his health insurance. His COBRA premium comes to $471/month--which, holy hell, how does anyone afford? I'll ask work about getting him added to my insurance as a domestic partner, but I know that additional coverage is out-of-pocket, and I'm not sure if we'll be able to afford it.

I'll be pulling a little extra for now, which means I'll have to retool my budget and perhaps scale down some of my goals. I may stop contributing the travel fund, as those plans are definitely on hiatus until the Boy finds something.

But I have to say, this ordeal is bringing us closer together, and for that, I'm thankful. I'm also thankful that the Boy is willing to take a vastly new (and better) fiscal direction--and that he's actually heeding my advice. It can't be easy to let someone into your financial life, and it must be harder to let someone help you overhaul it.

Also, it's rather wonderful to come home after work to a neat bedroom, a clean kitchen, and folded laundry. If only I made enough money for him to be a stay-at-home boyfriend...

Rent comparisons

Check out Rentometer: users input their rental data (address, number of bedrooms, number of units/building) and then are able to compare their information against the information of others in their neighborhood. Our $2,300/month rent for a three-bedroom has been deemed "a good deal"; the median for the area is $3,100.

However, in our immediate area, the rental data is crazy. Someone is paying $6,500/month for a three-bedroom two blocks from us! One block away, another three-bedroom is a cool $5,000/month. Wow. I hope we're talking, like, duplexes with multiple bathrooms and giant kitchens and garden access because my mind really boggles at the idea of coming up with more than twice what I make in a month just for rent.

Back to the grind

I'm waiting for my flight at the itsy-bitsy regional airport by my parents (I actually have a shuttle flight to DC, where I'll pick up another shuttle back to New York). The Boy is picking me--along with a large suitcase, borrowed from my mom, jammed full of things I picked up at secondhand shops in the past few days. My glorious mother paid for it all, but the whole wardrobe--eight pairs of shoes (no, really), half a dozen belts, and ten dresses, to say nothing of the tops and other sundries--couldn't have cost more than $100. I shiver to think what some city vintagemonger would have charged.

I'm going back relaxed and recharged, which is good. I've got a doozy of a week ahead of me.

The good news: My freelance rates went up 12.5%.

The bad news: The Boy got laid off.

So. Yeah. They don't exactly balance out.

I'll save the dirty-laundry details for another entry, but this week, we'll go through the options, figure out where to rollover his 401(k), compare his COBRA payments to temporarily adding him to my health insurance and see whether or not he's eligible for my student coverage next fall, estimating his unemployment benefits (with fingers crossed that he'll find something sooner), and, of course, brush up his resume.

Poor Boy. But at least he's got his very own guru/personal recruiter/cheerleader in me, and I know we'll pull through.