Wednesday, August 29, 2007

The Frugal's Back and Doubly Employed

Well, Stella came and Stella fled. Frugality is not for the weak of heart or will. But she left me with some great ideas. I've got to get down to the dumpling house. Though I feel I should bring a native Cantonese speaker like Stella with me. That way I don't miss out on all the old ladies ragging on each other. Nothing goes with dumplings like a spicy concoction of hen pecking.

This last weekend I fled to Cherry Hill, New Jersey. My grandmother lives there. There I ate deliciously ripe Jersey tomatoes, so good. I read. I slept a lot and I helped grandma spread some top soil around, trimmed a few tree branches, moved heavy objects.

But the trip was away from the city and as such, we won't be counting any expenses involved in that trip. I still spent enough before and after to make the balance even more dismal. It's the going out folks. That kills. Tonight I made two dishes that I can eat repeatedly, so hopefully I won't have to spend anything for the next couple of days.

Yesterday I got a great piece of news. I landed a part time job. This little gig that asks for about ten hours a week will speed up the whole bill paying process and after provide me with even more earnings. This is really good news. And I'm quite excited about starting on Friday. This weekend I have a friend coming to town. I'm thinking I might as well suspend my efforts for labor day. They can resume at a later date. This Frugal needs a break of his own.

Speaking of breaks, here's a breakdown of what I've been up to.

The Long Breakdown

Starting Balance: -$115.75

In: $50

Friday
Wendy's: $4

Sunday:
Groceries: $29
Beer: $2

Monday:
Laundry: $6.50
Bleach: $1.25
Paper Towels $1.50

Tuesday:
Groceries: $5.25
Halal: $4
Banana: $.25
Bar: $20

Wednesday:
Groceries: $3

Balance: -$132.25

Monday, August 27, 2007

Stella Gives it a Go

Hello, Paul's adoring fans. I'm Stella, Paul's co-worker and rather poor substitute for a frugal blogger (see below for the full story). A little while ago, Paul proposed the "Gotham Frugal Challenge" over office tea-time, which I accepted like the cocky jerk that I am, sure that it would be cake. Delicious and affordable cake.

I had a few (cheap) tricks up my sleeve, for instance, Dumpling House on Eldridge by the Grand Street B/D stop in Chinatown. The tiny kitchen and even tinier eat-in quarters serves up authentic potstickers, as the joint's name might suggest. They are snatched up faster than the Mandarin-speaking ladies clad in white paper hats can make them: uniformly crispy fried bottoms, steaming pork and chive filling, just greasy enough that they must (with no objections from this eater) be doused in Sriracha and soy sauce. At five for a dollar, there is no frugal-gourmet equal. Also of note are the boiled dumplings (10 for $2), and the beef noodle soup ($3), though these items may be more attractive for their price than their flavors. I still have yet to try the sesame pancakes: huge flat disks of fried dough coated in sesame seeds, wedged like pizza slices and stuffed with meat and vegetables. I usually get my dumplings to-go, park it by the basketball courts near Grand and Chrystie, and gawk at the massive confusion that is Chinatown ball.

Notice that I have not actually said that I ate there on Friday. Well, my dear reader, it's because I didn't. Frugal in theory is not frugal in practice, the lesson du jour for this reckless spendthrift. In theory, I could have eaten at Dumpling House and had enough left over to scratch the Friday night itch so familiar to the twenty-something in me, and grab a drink at a sticky-floored, notoriously cheap bar (Cheap Shots on 1st Ave b. E 9th and St. Mark's is a favorite during
off-peak hours). But in practice, I found it hard not to say "Fuck it, Stella. It's not your damn blog anyway."

On Friday, four of my friends and I spent the bulk of the night at Cooper 35 Asian Pub (on Cooper Square just below E 6th), where they serve barely passable, barely Asian grub and watered-down drinks on the cheap. $4 cocktails include martinis, mojitos, margaritas, and whiskey sours-- but buyer beware, you get what you pay for here. My gin martini was one part well gin, one part vermouth, and one part tap water. We would have left sooner if it weren't for the coincidence of the following facts: 1. The service was excellent. The waiter was on point, and as a result, the drinks came quicker than my high school boyfriend. I definitely had drinks that I would never otherwise order just because the waiter asked (kamikaze shots and a Jager-bomb? I plead the fifth.) 2. We were sitting in the outdoor patio. This means that none of us needed to get up for cigarettes, and instead focused all our time and energy into getting drunker by the minute. 3. They brought us edamame. Hook, line, and sinker.

We spent so much time there that we racked up a $170 bill, and we were too drunk to question it. With tax and tip, between the five of us, that's just above $40 each. So much for a ten bucks a day.

The following night some friends and I went to Reservoir on University Place between E 10th and 11th. This spot may be old news for some, but I'm not an NYU student, and moreover I've migrated to the outer burroughs (I live in Astoria), where news of hip happenings arrives via Pony Express, which is a decidedly inconvenient mode of transport on the Queensboro Bridge. Reservoir was good overall: we had excellent service again (apparently we look like chump fools, shaking uncontrollably from alcohol withdrawal every time we walk into a bar), and we staked out the best seats in the house-- two huge comfy couches that faced each other in the back corner, forming a private living room area for the four of us. The Saturday night beer special was an old faithful: Yuengling amber lager at $3.50 a pint. We also got a very tasty, pleasantly crispy, well-sauced basket of 20 hot buffalo wings for $7.50.

Rather than shock and awe the Gotham Frugal audience with the again exorbitant bill our Saturday night came to, I will quickly change the subject and list some of our drunken jukebox selections: Otis Redding "Hard to Handle," Deee-Lite "Groove Is in the Heart," Toadies "Possum Kingdom," Daft Punk "Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger," The Animals "House of the Rising Sun."

All in all, folks, I will have to confess defeat. The Frugal part of me has suffered a rather severe beating from the Gotham part of me, and despite my wide-eyed and bushy-tailed belief that knowledge of a few good deals in this city would help keep me within a budget of $10 a day, I lack the commitment. Also, I drink like a fish.

But I do have a newfound respect for Paul's cheap ass (though I have to say, Paul, cab fare is your Achilles' heel). And even though I lost the Gotham Frugal Challenge, I reserve the right to say: "Fuck it. It's not my goddamn blog anyway."

Starting balance: $0

In: $20

Friday:
Chicken & rice halal: $5
Cocktails and shots at Cooper 35: $45

Saturday:
Lentil soup at Murray's Bagels: $4
Beer and wings at Reservoir: $20

Balance: -$54

Friday, August 24, 2007

Books, Bars, and Bums

On Wednesday afternoon, I decided to do something that I'd been putting off which could potentially save me a good deal of money. I paid my library fines. The New York Public Library is pretty great. They are fairly comprehensive and they are often nice enough to give you the books you want if you ask for them. They do not however suffer tardiness lightly.

I'm the kind of jerk that will check out a book indefinitely. When I was an adjunct professor I discovered, much to my delight, that I didn't have to pay library fines because I was faculty. This led to books being arranged in stacks around my apartment for years. Each tower was symbolic of literary ambition that went largely unfulfilled.

But I don't have carte blanche at the New York library and in order to check out any new books, I had to pay off not all of my fines but enough. I paid $10, wandered the stacks and fetched Jack Gilbert's book "Refusing Heaven" and Anne Sexton's collected work. Sexton is great and we all need to read more Gilbert.

Thursday was a tough day. I keep getting these late night phone calls that I keep taking. They leave me tired and losing sleep. I didn't have a lunch to pack, so after packing breakfast (PB&Honey) I hit the tamale stand. At my place of business we often gather for an afternoon tea time. It's probably the coolest thing we do. My co-worker also recently returned from Japan with brand new tea. I asked if he also had fetched some snacks to serve at tea. To my chagrin he served some rock hard miso biscuits that tasted like graham crackers and, I don't know, hazel nut. I didn't finish mine, but it was nice of him to bring them.

Then I went out last night to party at Automatic Slim''s. Before arriving I had to grab something to eat, I ducked into a deli for a ham sandwich and chips. I only ate about half and then danced and danced. Unfortunately I was taking a break outside when a man accosted me for money. The typical bum story. A statement of honesty, a complement, an introduction, description of a terminal disease, a request for an outrageous amount, all the while being both mildly pathetic and vaguely threating. He got $5 out of me. What can I say? He had the hustle.

After Automatic Slim's, which had to be fled on account of the massive amounts of young, stout professionals that flooded the place, my party absconded to White Horse Tavern. This was sort of like leaving sucky for suckier. Before we set out I caught sight of character actor Fisher Stevens and I had to stifle the desire to say "Dude, I loved you in My Science Project."

But that's neither here nor there. The point is, don't go to The White Horse tavern. I guess it's bad enough that they celebrate the fact that they are the bar that helped Dylan Thomas poison himself, but they also have just lousy service. They poured a shitty Maker's Mark, which I don't know how you mess that up, but they did it tasted like it had gin in it. The fat bastard behind the bar refused to fix it. And when the kitchen was closed and my friends went to get something to eat, they were bounced from the bar for eating in it. Basically it's a low rent hive of idiocy that I will never return to.

The night drug on and the subways frustrated so I resorted to cabbing it home. Going out is bad. No more of this.

Two Day Breakdown

Starting Balance: -$97.75

In: $20

Wednesday
Banana: $.25
Library Fines: $10

Thursday
Tamales: $2
Bananas: $.50
Ham Sandwich: $5
Bum: $5
Cab: $15

Balance: -$115.50

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Fellowship of the Yawn

Even on a slow day here in New York City, the observant walker might catch a glimpse of the more exotic flora and fauna that the city has to offer. Today it was Elijah Wood on 42nd across from Grand Central. Freshly arrived from Metro Middle Earth?

Breakdown:

Starting Balance: -$107.75

In: $10

Out: $0

Balance: -$97.75

Monday, August 20, 2007

Tao Te Metro

The New York subway system is the largest subway in the world. It's spaghetti mix of colored vessels pumps millions of people all over the city every day, and can baffle tourists and New Yorkers alike. Every month my company takes $78 dollars out of my paycheck, before applying taxes, and buys me a 30-day pass, which provides unlimited access to the five boroughs. The pre-tax purchase saves me about 30 cents on the dollar, I think. But the ticket is the saddle by which I ride these gray beasts and I take pride in knowing their ways and moods, which are always evolving.

A few weeks ago the system flooded but then later came back on-line. The weekend schedules switch things up and the human factor is always throwing some sort of spanner in the works. Today, on the morning commute someone pulled the emergency break. There were bubbles of panic boiling. As the steam pipe incident and this weekend's Ground Zero fire prove, terrorism is never far from the mind. But despite that, I almost always blame any tardiness on my own late start.

To the outsider the process of boarding and riding may look like chaos. Since I moved here, I've seen the order of things and begun honing my route. In the morning I walk down to the down town end of the cars. Not only because these cars are a bit less crowded but also because they will end up at the Grand Central platform in a spot crucial to my subterranean route. When the train pulls in at 116th, I can size up the lead 3 cars through the scarred Plexiglas windows and choose which one is most likely to offer a seat. I prefer sitting because it's easier to read. And if you've got a good book, the ride goes by so quick you might even miss your stop.

In the evenings I have more of a choice. I can take the 6 uptown and have a longer, though less complicated ride, or I can take the 4 or 5 for a quick shot up to 86th where I can switch over. I even know what car to be in (third to last) and where in that car (near the rear door) to be for the quickest dash up the stairs at 86th to catch that 6 train. Again the human factor and the amount of crowding can interfere with this route science, but the subway is for sharing, that's what's most important. The subway is the fastest way around town, but a little knowledge can make it even faster. Readers, I'm sure many of you have more complicated routes, which offer several options. I'd love to hear about your route knowledge.

I paid $3 for peanut butter this morning to make my daily breakfast. And I left the apartment without lunch so I ended up buying halal. I actually got two tasty meals out of the Halal cart on 40th and 5th, paid $4.50. Those things are far superior to the hot dog carts. Though both meats are similarly mysterious.

Daily Breakdown

Starting Balance: -$110.25

In: $10

Out: $7.50

Balance: -$107.75

Sunday, August 19, 2007

The Gotham Frugal Meets His Fan Base

Readers, I know you're out there. Google Analytics tells me that I've been viewed in some 15 countries and territories and that my most loyal viewers are stationed in Oklahoma, North Carolina, and of course New York City. But last night I had the pleasure of meeting a few of the faces behind the hits.

But first, Friday. I had all of Friday off. The morning consisted of some internetworking. Later I went to the gym to workout. Unfortunately I had lost my membership card and had to pay $5 for its replacement. Later in the evening I went out to visit my bartender friend who works near Union Square. Every New Yorker should have a friend who tends bar. I wasn't planning on staying out too long, and I thought I might enjoy a little wine at a point later down the line, so I dropped by Trader Joe's. To combine frugality with a touch (small touch) of class would be to invest a few dollars in the legendary Charles Shaw variety of vino. AKA Three Buck Chuck. So after $3.25 I stuffed the bottle in my bag and headed off to the bar. There I was able to have a few good drinks on the house and chat. But you can't leave your friend hanging, so the bar keep got $7. Later, for whatever reason I had to stop by the local bar near my house and chill with a Stella. $6.

Earlier in the week one of my loyal readers, Amy, invited me over to her place in Brooklyn for a Saturday kegger. Her treat. Free beer. Two words that make the heart go a little fluttery. The last time I'd been to a keg party had to have been well over a year ago. It was a fun group, though significantly intoxicated by the time I'd gotten there. My favorite part of the evening was when Amy would introduce me as "the ten-dollars-a-day guy." There were various moments of recognition. It was like I'd gotten a very small taste of celebrity status. And it tasted good. So thanks Amy, and thanks to the readers who enjoy the blog. You give me strength.

One of the remarkable things about this particular group was the high concentration of French speakers. But everyone speaks the universal language of "Whoohoo!" And with the keg tapped at 10:30 I think one could declare the party a fast success. So raise your plastic cups to the first annual "Leo McKegger."

After the keg party I got an invitation to join a few more friends for a drink in Manhattan. Unfortunately due to some poor attention on my part, I ended up walking about 7 avenues in the wrong direction. At one point somewhere around 10th Ave I was wedging myself through a group of late night partiers and I heard the most amazing little voice in my head. The voice said "Go back to New Jersey, you assholes." I was struck by the comment. When did I become such a jerk? When did I start to disregard the rest of the planet and accredit value to this small population? When did the sidewalks become my own personal dominion? Is this a sign of transformation? Have I become a New Yorker?

I hopped on the L train and made my way back to the Union Square to meet with my friends. They wanted to eat at Le Express. I had actually filled up on pizza at the kegger, but I ordered a beer. There we had a pleasant late night snack. They were kind enough to pay, seeing as how my recent birthday may have slipped out. I fell into a subway car and rolled back home, for some three buck Chuck and much needed REM sleep.

This morning I awoke with no plans in mind. The smell of the little greasy spoon crammed under my apartment was tormenting me as I tried to compose today's blog. I felt no desire to spend money or eat anything for that matter. Breakfast is a sort of pain in the butt for me. I don't wake up ravenous and I have a particular palate in the morning. Unfortunately, I never became one with the breakfast cereal culture. Try as I have. All of this was solved when my dear friend who keeps buying me dinner called me and asked if I wanted to join her for birthday brunch at Aquavit, a high class Scandinavian smorgasborg.

It was upscale so I put on my best business casual and arrived at a posh windowless place where we spent the morning eating different varieties of herring, drinking beer and coffee. It sounds like such an odd way to start the day but it all evened out in the end. It was quite a fabulous birthday gift and I left full and glad. Then we walked around Midtown. I liked having a long conversation at Rockefeller Square. Then we went to FAO Schwartz which is vaguely disturbing in that you can see the culture of distraction crystallize in one place. I basically spent a few hours walking by a bunch of stuff I don't really want. Which was interesting. Sidhartha used to laugh at hunger, I'm learning to laugh at commerce.


The Weekend Breakdown.

Starting Balance: -$119

In: $30

Out:
Gym Card: $5
Wine: $3.25
Tip: $7
Stella: $6

Balance -$110.25

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Older, Happier, Less Productive

Yesterday marked a day of reprieve for me. Having completed my most recent circle around the sun, my friends decided that I should put a possee together and eat sushi. So we did. My father promised to underwrite the event but thanks to the generosity of my friends I didn't have to pay. After there was dancing and whiskey. Are you noticing a trend with all this whiskey? There's a lot of it. Regardless, this artificial limit I've been setting was off limits.

But I had a good year. Moved to New York, wrote a novel, got a job, got an apartment and started a blog. Next year is looking up as well, I should clear out some credit debt and get a pay bump. It'll be great.

Today was tough. I was hung over and unproductive. No more drinking on the weekdays. I'm now sort of intentionally sweating it out in my unairconditioned living room. It's like my body is crying out all the abuse I've put it through. Today I opened the day with tamales. That seems like it happened last week. The pablano tamale is very tasty. I usually get the verde. The vendors in my neighborhood fish the tamales out of these big steel colanders grocery carts. You can spot them by their big beach umbrellas. It's so rustic and homey. In a New York way, not a Cracker Barrel way. I starved the rest of the day until I got home where I ordered some Chinese food.

I've been toying with my poetry again. I guess because I've been feeling romantic. Romantic feelings always help with the writing. It makes it seem less silly somehow. There's nothing that puts you on the edge like a potent mix of insecurity, wishful thinking, passion, and wonder. The sticky feeling of doubt and fear of disappointment makes sitting down and punching out a few lines of near nonsense logical by comparison. I think of that TV series "John From Cincinnati" (which HBO canceled) when John says, "Mitch Yost should get back in the game." Paul should get back in the game. Not just the writing game.


Breakdown

Starting Balance -$129.50

In: $20

Out:
Tamales: $2.50
Chinese: $7

Balance: -$119

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Retirement Day: 43 years, and a day away.

Today at work I met my retirement fund manager. I gave him the blog address, so if he's reading this, "Welcome."

My dad is a stock broker. Having a stock broker for a father means you get to drive to school every day with a financial adviser. When you're twelve, you could care less. All you're thinking about is going with Ben Kenobi to join the rebellion and learn the ways of the force. Jedis don't need 403B's, they have light sabers. And with Nintendo putting out all those great games every month, saving was very far from my mind. But one day you begin to associate the dollar with a certain amount of freedom. And then you realize you don't want to work forever. And then all those early morning lectures about saving and managing your retirement sort of resolve in your memory and you find yourself contemplating a force more powerful than the Death Star, compound interest.

The "Pension Guy," as some titled him, showed us one of my favorite financial magic tricks. Let's say you had two investors. The first investor is a tightwad like myself who spent his youth socking away $2000 a year from the age of 20 t0 30, then decides that's enough. The second investor, the guy I'd like to be, is a crazy spendthrift who tosses dollars around until his days of wild living catch up with him and he sobers up and patiently invests $2000 dollars a year from 30 to 50. Investor 1 has invested $20,000, Investor 2 has invested $40,000. If they both started investing at the same time, after 30 years of interest who would have more money? Investor 1, with only half the investment. That's pretty cool.

So you youngens need to buy the cheaper tequila and buy up those Roth IRAs. And if you come across some windfall, like a bag full of money, or a banking error in your favor, buy a good bottle of bourbon and with the rest buy mutual funds and forget it ever happened. Because you'll be able to make the rent this month just like you did last month, by rolling change and doing choirs for mom. But your chance to get rich slow will have passed you by.

Today I was lazy and had the laundry mat wash my clothes. I also got a hair cut which almost makes this month a wash. However, because I have to present tomorrow for some of our funders at work I had to get a trim. People at work don't care if I'm all over the place. But I can't be shaggy in front of the checkbooks. That being said, much like the dry cleaners, the hair cut will go down as a business

Yesterday I was good. Good and bored. I turned down tempting offers to go out and play-ye-yay. I sat at home eating some homemade Skyline chili and watching reruns.

2 Day Breakdown

Starting Balance -$140.50

In: $20

Out:
Laundry: $9

Balance: -$129.50

Sunday, August 12, 2007

The Gotham Not So Frugal

As I approach my 1st year anniversary as a New Yorker, I think I can say certain things about New Yorkers. And I suppose this goes with out saying, but New Yorkers have a weakness for New York. And this weakness drives us to share the city with others. And that, unfortunately for this project, can be an expensive proposition.

Friday came and I managed to leave the house without lunch again. This had happened before but I had left food at work that I could eat, and my co-worker shared a bit of her lunch with me. Not because she had pity on my poor soul, but because she had too much. After work I came home and decided my friend, Sarah from Italy, who had been parked on my couch for most of the week needed to get out and see the town.

I had wanted to eat at Mexicana Mama ever since I heard the toothy, loud mouth Rachel Ray mention it on her show. We arrived and I treated myself to a jalepeno margarita. It set my lips on fire with its spicy goodness. I had the chili relleno, my friend got a chicken salad that was also yummy. During dinner I got a call from a new friend, the one who I went to Dexy's with a week ago. Of course I didn't answer it until after dinner because I practice good phone etiquette. I called my new friend back and she suggested that I join her for scotch on the upper west side. Her treat.

I proposed this to my friend from Italy, but Sarah decided to take a cab home instead. So much for sharing the joy of NYC with her. So we split a cab uptown, the cabby dropped me at the upper west side. There I was presented with a peaty infusion of distilled malt. Being a prohibitively expensive, we went in search of drinks elsewhere and ended in the Dive Bar. Here there was more whiskey, a crazy fish, and a couple making a very public display of affection. I cabbed it home, making Friday one very expensive night. My second reckless weekend in a row.

Saturday was all about the MOMA. My friend woke up ready to explore the arts and I went with her. She covered my $20 ticket which made me glad. I stood very close to the Yves Klein hoping that my whole world could turn that shade of blue, for a little while. We took a break to eat some tasty cart food, and then went to the design store, where The Gotham Frugal refrained from purchasing any of the coolness. Soho followed for my friend wanted to shop. I went home to enjoy the solitude for a bit. But I felt bad as my friend didn't get back until 11ish when I left her at 4.

Today I woke and Sarah, still with me, gave me $5 to go get some groceries for breakfast. I put them to good use and bought some more stuff. At the end of her visit, after an unfruitful search for a birthday gift for me, Sarah had to hop a plane to Italy. I told her that she didn't need to give me anything for my birthday. After all I make more than she does, Euros on not. As I loaded her into the cab, she hugged me and stuffed something in my back pocket. Walking upstairs to my apartment I pulled a folded twenty dollar bill out, it had four more twenties folded with in it. So I'm using this money to buy myself an important gift, a vacuum cleaner for my apartment. I'll see that the other dough goes towards the credit card. Thanks, Sarah. You're really too kind.

Still, it looks like I'm going to be in the red for a long, long time.

Starting Balance: -$71

In: $35

Out:
Friday
Halal Lunch: $4
Mexicana Mama: $37
Bar: $14
Cabs: $16

Saturday
Tamale: $1.25
Coffee: $.75
Halal Lunch: $5

Sunday:
Groceries: $26.50

Ending Balance: -$140.50

Thursday, August 9, 2007

We're All Holding Steady

Well ladies and gents, I think that this particular website should soon become the gathering ground of commiseration for the men and women of Wall Street for they too may soon find themselves on a budget. They had a bad day today and why did they have a bad day? Because they can no longer support the debtor society that America has become. Or at least that's my take on it. I've been drinking scotch and it's late so I can't pull my father into this conversation, though Dad, if you're reading this, leave a comment explaining how I'm wrong about this.

Pop is my guru on all matters financial. I'd like to think that I inherited my distaste for credit from him. But then again, maybe it has to do with all the times he wisely bailed me out of debt to preserve my credit rating and then yelled at me for being irresponsible. Nature, nurture. Chicken, egg. You judge. Either way it works, I hate credit cards.

Speaking of hating credit cards, and perhaps getting a perspective as to what's going on in America when it comes to massive, mind-crushing, share-cropping like debt you should all go out and rent, netflix, whatever the newish Morgan Spurlock film "Maxed Out." It's an insightful look at how the credit card companies are screwing America out of a future by offering them endless credit which Americans can never repay. Unfortunately the "taste for credit" doesn't stop at the citizen but extends all the way up to our beloved leader G Dub. Why doesn't anyone listen to Allen Greenspan? He seems like a smart guy.

But speaking of the weak, today I spent over my budget, which is something like negative sixty last I checked. I went to Kati Roll after work with my friend and I bought this one. Why? I don't know. Then we went to Brooklyn for a "free" concert. Where they asked for $3 per person. They say free and then pressure you at the door. And what happens when you walk in? You are accosted by WaMu automatons begging to see your debit card. It was definitely a carnival moment. In the cheap-trailer-smell-like-cabbage-way, and not the cirque-du-sole way. WaMu is the devil. Bank of America is the devil. I only trust ING right now. But wait. Next paragraph.

The free concert was "The Hold Steady." I love this band. Yes, they are a bit cheesy. Yes, they remind me of the Counting Crows. Yes, they are, as someone wiser put it, one bad saxophone player away from the E Street Band, but man I love these guys, and they were semi-free, but more than worth the $6 I paid to get us in.

Breakdown.

Starting Balance:-$65.50


In: $10

Out:
Kati Roll: $9:50
Hold Steady: $6

Balance: -$71

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

Oh Brutality, Thy Name Is Gotham!

Yesterday, it was drinks with people whom share my office space. Today it was drinks with a person I've been sharing my home space. All I know is that next week will be a long one of no spending.

After work last night we went to Happy Hour. It was only moderately happy. Our waitress was unconcerned. She made no attempt to engage us as her customers and even less to service us in a manner that would've been acceptable, if not proper. Nothing gets me quite as much as bad service. Is it so hard to talk to the people in front of you? Shame on that waitress for treating us like drinking machines that she only need feed the right blend of potables, for by not acknowledging us as people, she also reduced herself to the level of automaton. Poor drink tossing robot, you get only measly monetary input.

After the Happy Hour which was really just a sort of "Thank-god-work-is-done-for-the-day" hour, I went home and stopped by the grocers to buy a few zucchinis. Back at mi casa, my guest was busily working on her resume. A great thing if you live in New York, but bad form form if you're visiting. One must go out into the city. Though with it being 104 degrees heat index, I don't blame her. So in the hot, hot apartment I boiled water for pasta and made a decent pasta dish. All the steam set a sweaty glisten upon everyone.

Later a couple of friends showed up with a Scrabble board. Crazed spelling and sangria drinking ensued. I don't know what the deal is with Sangria but it is becoming a feature in my life. I'm not even Spanish. I have to say one of the highlights was my spelling of the work "zonk." It was challenged, and poorly so, for "zonk" means "to stupefy" and my opponents were zonked at my use of the word. I won by a narrow margin.

The night ended followed by rain. And what a rain it was. It flooded all the subways, making morning travel impossible. I got to work more than 2 hours late. After work I had an interview for a second job. One of the stranger interviews I've ever had. I had to respond to scenarios, role play and then actually work. I left with a "We'll call you," but I'm sure I did fine and will get an offer. So that should bring in some extra dough. I must say I was a little uncomfortable when this relatively good looking young woman told me that she wanted to role play, and that it was her favorite part of the interview. I'm all about role playing myself but I like to get to know someone first.

After I got back to the Barrio, my visiting friend who was mysteriously gone called me. She wanted me to join her down town. Which I did. We hung out at the Blind Pig where a scantily clad young vixen offered us free drinks if we offered her and her friend a pick up line. I obliged of course. We ate some jalapeƱo poppers and dumplings. Neither all that spectacular. Still it cost and I must stop with the costs.

Here's what the last 2 days have been about:

Starting Balance: -$60.25

In: $20

Out:
Happy Hour: $8
Zucchinis: $1
Blind Pig: $15
Gum: $1.25

Balance: -$65.50

Monday, August 6, 2007

The Badness Continues

Daily Breakdown

Starting Balance: -$6.25

In: $30

Out:
Coffee and Donuts: $3.25
Pot, Ice trays, Measuring cup: $3.25
Deodorant: $4.25
Soil: $3
Groceries: $32.50
Taxi: $25
Wine: $9
Mixers: $3.75

Balance: -$60.25

From the balance you can clearly see that I have been bad. But then again, maybe some people owe me money. Right? Here's the deal. On Saturday morning I awoke in need of coffee. I had a great evening of nature videos and video games. Ah, solitude. I'm lonely but having a good time. Still coffee in the A.M. was in order hence it was off to Dunkin Donuts. What America apparently runs on. Though I bet if you asked most Americans they would tell you that they run on asphalt.
A friend of mine decided to join me from Italy. She was very sweet to put up with all the heat that NYC had decided to put out this weekend. My apartment was hot beyond sleeping but also hot beyond moving, so you had to exist in this paralytic state that involved close proximity to the air conditioner.

But I had to show her the neighborhood and see some sights while we were at it. This weekend had a street festival to offer her. I felt like I was walking her through a Sopranos episode only with Puerto Ricans rather than Italians. We went to the dollar store because my $3 mint plant needed a new home. I also wanted to make ice and measure liquids. Later I got soil for the mint plant so the whole thing ended up at more like $8. But for that eight I've got an unlimited supply of minty joy.

My friend bought me vegetables and scotch in exchange for giving her a place to stay. Not that I minded. Still I had to buy some more groceries to round it all out. I like food. And I need deodorant, can't be smelly. Well you shouldn't be offensively smelly. I had party plans with others and so I dragged my friend along. But the long and skinny of it was we had to get a cab home, but whatever number the host offered me wasn't a cab but a car service.

When I stepped to the curb, I had one extremely drunken friend in tow and the friend who was staying. So I looked at the car and realized I had to enter into negotiations. I knew that a ride from queens to my place was around $18 and a cab from my friends house to mine was about $17. So being a little buzzed myself I shrewdly negotiated a price of $50 to get us to my friend's place in Chelsea and then back to El Barrio. Way to go, Paul. But I told the car service that was all he would get and not to expect a tip. He nodded I asked my company if they agreed and they did. Of course in retrospect I realize that cabs in Italy, where my friend is visiting from, are far more expensive than NYC cabs, so she wasn't reliable, but hey she's making Euros so she can throw money around. Long story short we got to my hood around 3. My friend wanted to go somewhere else and smoke and have a drink and we were graciously welcomed into Dexy's on 112th an 2nd. Go there.

Sunday I had a good friend stop by while the other one absconded to a hotel. I fixed some dinner and had to buy a bit of vino. Then today, after the good friend left, my friend from Italy returned and was interested in drinking the duty free scotch she had bought. So I poured the dimple but had to go downstairs to grab a mixer or three. After watching the movie "Closer" and having a heated argument about it we are settling down to sleep. Yet I be heavy with the lack of funds. Meanwhile, I was a bit under the weather and didn't go to the Lauren Hill concert featured tonight. Bumsville. I wanted to do "that thing, that thing, that thyeyeyeng. Peace ya'll.

Friday, August 3, 2007

A Package and a Dilemma

Yesterday I came home with a note from the post office that they had a package to deliver to me. I wondered what could be waiting for me. Was it the pair of shoes I left in Chicago? Was it a coffeemaker a friend of mine told me she would send?

At work today we ended the half day with a company luncheon at the Bryant Park Grill behind the big central library, you know with the lions. And even though they say there's no such thing this free lunch was actually really great with oysters on the halfshell and a lobster burger. The place looks like they should shoot a movie in there.

After getting home from lunch, I took a walk in the hot, hot sun down to Tito Puente Way (aka E 110th St) and gathered my parcel. It was of course in the post office, and the line was filled with older something women, which is weird because every post office line I've ever been in has a line comprised mostly of older women, as if super models never have to mail packages or pick them up for that matter. The post office was kind enough to provide entertainment and I watched Robin Williams and Robert di Nero in Awakenings, the fun part of the movie, after the tennis ball and before the return to catatonia.

But the fun couldn't last forever and I when I got to the window I traded my notification slip for a manilla folder. It was from my mother, which helps explain the presence of older women, they're shipping stuff to their children. Mom had shipped some mail that had arrived at the family estate and was addressed to me. In it she included an article about how the new Thor comic will be set near Oklahoma City, which could be promising, depending on how Oklahomans are portrayed. Hopefully he won't be confused with Dr. Ann Thor, a pathologist already working in OKC. Mom also sent another article about a writer from Oklahoma.

And clipped to both with a note reading "a donation to the cause" was $40. And here is the dilemma. How do we define "the cause?" If the cause is paying off my credit card bill than the money should go there. If the cause is surviving on $10 a day then the cash should go to my daily budget. I keep track of the daily balances to give people an idea of how well I'm doing. A negative balance means I'm overspending. But this sort of mana from the gods could fall under the "In" heading changing the whole nature of the balance. But I don't shine to the idea of not buying anything for the next 3 days just so I can run a positive. Keep in mind I haven't been to the grocery store for 2 weeks and that was to pick up my measly rations for the Food Stamp challenge. So I decided that this cash would be used to reduce the negative of my daily balance. Anyone else thrown off by the phrase, "reduce the negative?"

I went directly across the street to the NY Public library to check it out and if there was a book there to pay enough fines to check the book out. But they didn't have the book so I walked home, stopping to buy a mint plant, that will join the basil plant on my fire escape garden. I hope the $3 investment will save me money down the line on mint. I like to use mint in cooking, and mint juleps, or mojitos. I also gave 18 pounds of laundry to the laundro-mat. I should do my own for about half that much but I was too lazy. Finally I bought some Chinese dumplings for dinner. Not the most frugal day.

But let's break it down anyway.

Starting Balance: -$36.25

In: $10
$40 from Mom. Awww.

Out:
Mint: $3
Laundry: $13.25
Steamed dumplings: $3.75

Balance: -$6.25

Thursday, August 2, 2007

The Month In Review

This first month, you could argue, was a failure. The challenge of $10 a day was not met. My average spending from July 1 to July 31 was $11.01. One thousand one hundred and one cents per day over the past 31 days. But if the challenge is actually ten dollars a day in New York City then we have to do a bit of adjusting. See by removing the expenses incurred on the Chicago trip, those clams shelled from the moment I stepped on the plane to O'Hare and off the plane from Cincinnati, my daily spending in the hollowed confines of the greater New York metropolitan area drops to $8.64 per day. And that my friends, you could argue, is a success. But more important than how much I did or didn't spend is what I actually did.

This month I saw a concerts performed by Spoon, The New York Philharmonic, Cinematic Orchestra, and I overheard Brazilian Girls. That's more music than the previous 6 months if not the previous year.

I shared a drink with Patton Oswald, a greeting with Junior Soprano, and a few delicious meals with friends.

I took the Congressional Food Stamp Challenge and did pretty well for what it was worth, though I did bitch a lot. That's what happens when you're hungry. It was a true moment of perspective, a glimpse at the rage and frustration that comes from being on government assistance.

I saw my friends get married. Just stand in front of each other and say "This is it. I'm done looking." That still kind of blows me away.

I ate a salad made from wild weeds, fell in love with belly dancers, narrowly escaped exploding steam pipes, witnessed the fall of Voldemort, and drank to the health of friends both new and old.

This is where I live, this is what I do. This is the Gotham Frugal.

This is the breakdown.

Starting Balance: -$46.25

In: $10

Out: $0

Balance: -$36.25

Wednesday, August 1, 2007

Oh How The Righteous Fall

I've been a bad boy. I've been bad. There's no excuse for my behavior. Last night after asking my mom for medical advice I completely dismissed it. For this I feel genuinely bad. But a friend invited me over to drink Sangria and play scrabble. There I met a young woman who was very much about making snacks and hanging out. After our mutual friend sort of dozed off, in classic fashion, we went to a bar. And bars, people, thems are devils.

So I spent $24 there and woke up late for work hungover and still sick. So I dragged my sorry ass off to work. But I had to buy breakfast. Then I got home in no mood to cook. So I ordered hot and sour soup and chicken lo mein. So while I would've started the day off in the black, I'm right back in the red with groceries yet to buy.

Oh and I had to buy The Best of Sam and Dave tonight. Soul Man, Hold on I'm Coming. They are the songs and the routines that two white comedians stole and made into the Blues Brothers.

Such unfrugal behavior. Even when yesterday morning started off with me finding a dollar on the street. I thought it was a sign. But in other news, I may have landed that second job I was talking about so that's good.

So let's do the walk of shame breakdown. Sorry, mom.

Starting Balance: -$18.25

In: $21

Out:
Drinks and tip: $24
Egg Sandwich & Juice: $5
Chinese Food: $7
Sam and Dave: $12

Balance: -$46.25

Ouch