Tag Archives: beingagirl

Announcing the Carnival of Female Personal Finance Bloggers!

Inspired by all you fabulous ladies out there writing about personal finance every day, I decided to start a carnival of personal finance specifically for female bloggers.

I’ll be posting the first Carnival of Female Personal Finance Bloggers in November, please submit your best blog post from October for the first edition.

Also, if you’re interested in hosting future editions, please let me know. Would love to get at least 5 people lined up for next 5 months (doing this monthly for now, could be bi-weekly if I get enough interest.)

Laser Hair Removal Update

I’ve been writing a lot about laser hair removal lately because it’s one of the largest purchases I’ve ever made in my life, outside of my $7000 car. Part of me still feels like I shouldn’t be spending the money — it’s much smarter to invest it, deal with shaving twice a day all my life, and that’s that. But, I’ve come to the decision that now I am going to spend some money on myself, within reason. And of everything in the world I can spend it on — vacations, jewelry, etc, I choose to spend my money on laser hair removal.

The one place I’ve been considering is giving me a really amazing package rate. $4000 for six treatments of basically everything except my face and arms. Which is like 76% off their single treatment rate. The normal discount as these places is maybe 40% off or for a special 50% off. All other places I looked at, at the cheapest for the same treatments, cost $5000 – $7000.

At first, I was very skeptical about this place. Why so cheap? That’s always something I’m cautious about when paying people lots of money to burn my hair follicles. So I went in for a full treatment — bikini and buttock (yes, there’s hair there. I’m a fairly attractive girl but my hormones make me look like Godzilla without an OCD maintenance program.) I got them to give me a 20% discount off the price of the two treatments — $460 total. That will apply to the full $4000 package if I decide to go for it, which I likely will. I just want to make sure my skin doesn’t melt off in the next two weeks, and that the hair sheds properly.

I was impressed with the quality of treatment at this place. I’ve been to a more expensive laser spa and the nurse was like a typical doctor — in and out, no time to waste. Not only that, but she burned me under my arm (I now have purple spots there the size of the laser, I hope they’ll fade.) So I’m not sold that cost has anything to do with quality when it comes to laser hair removal.

Ultimately, it’s how comfortable you are with the RN, and how comfortable the RN is with the laser. So this RN was really nice about everything, which was necessary when she was lasering in such delicate places. Yes, it was painful, esp behind the upper leg and inner thigh (youch!) but it’s so worth it. For me, anyway. Even for all that pain, knowing I’ll need 5+ more treatments in the same area for it to really do anything significant, and the reduction in savings I’ll have this year. It’s so worth it. I’m excited about the $4000 package and hope in the end I don’t regret it. I haven’t signed on the dotted line yet, but I’ve pretty much already paid 1/8th of it so it’s silly not to go all in if I like the place and I’m going to get it done anyway. Right?

They do have Care Credit — which gives 18 months free financing. I don’t need it, but I might be better off paying a few hundred bucks a month vs all at once. I can also put it on my credit card and get air mileage, which could be nice too. I’ll probably do that since I have the cash.

Brite Smile Review: Was it worth 300 bucks?

As I noted in my last post, I recently splurged on a superficial “Brite Smile” treatment to attempt turning my not-so pearly whites closer to white. The treatment, available at dental spas across the country, costs anywhere from $299 to $600, depending on if you can catch a good sale. I had been oogling the quick tooth whitening ever since seeing the sign for it at my dentists’ office years ago. But I couldn’t bring myself to spend the money.

Once I decided I would take the financial plunge last year, I went in to a local dental spa for a free consultation about the process. To be honest, the dentist lady freaked me out. She was just so fake nice, and I wanted to punch her. Regardless, she made me feel bad enough about my teeth that I wanted to spend the money on the process. Still, it was $400 and I wanted to wait for that $299 special that comes up once a year or so… (I read about it online.) So I waited, and the receptionist lady constantly e-mailed me asking if I wanted to schedule an appointment. They seemed desperate (not a good sign.) I told her to contact me if they ever had a $299 special. Around the holidays they had just the bargain I was looking for. So I decided to go for it.

That’s when I started to read all these horror stories about the process online…


Few people who had Brite Smile done said it was worth the money. What’s worse, most of them said you get this awful pain for 24 hours after getting the treatment that’s so bad you want to die. I’ll admit that scared me a bit, but after looking at my yellow teeth in the mirror day in and day out, I was willing to take on the pain. Or so I told myself.

I set up an appointment (surely the dental spa was thrilled to be making the money) and prepared myself for pain. I took a few too many ibuprofen before my treatment, and then when I went to the dental office and the receptionist/assistant asked if I had taken any, I said no and got more. I didn’t overdose, really, but I took more than the recommended dose… which seemed to work on the pain during the treatment.

They took a “before” picture of my fugly teeth, and also showed me what shade my teeth were on this scale of yellow teeth. Then, they set me up for the process. This dental spa thing was weird… they started with an aromatherapy treatment. The dental assistant, who ended up doing the entire treatment, turned into a hippie massage therapist. “Breath in the aromas and relax.” Weird. I tried not to laugh. Next, they propped open my mouth and prepared my teeth for bleaching. That part was pretty much what I had read from other people’s experiences – not comfortable but not totally uncomfortable either. They put on music for me to listen to and the first 20 minute session of zapping my teeth began.

What I feared most were the “zingers” that I read about online. They happen during the treatment and worse, after, I read. The treatment consisted of 4 20 minute sessions. Time definitely did not go fast enough. The first session was fine. I listened to a musical theater station on rhapsody and barely felt a thing. Towards the end I felt a little bit of a vibration in my teeth but nothing painful.

After 20 minutes, the weird dental assistant lady came back and repainted my teeth with bleach. She informed me that the pain people complain about is when the gauze comes up and stops protecting the gums, so I shouldn’t worry about that, only to look in my mouth and say, without much concern, “that gauze just doesn’t want to stay down.”

The second and third treatments were ok. I was bored, and the warn vibration sensation got a bit stronger, but nothing painful.

Then came the fourth session.

Fuck that hurt.

So the dental assistant told me at the beginning that if I need anything to just put my hands out and someone would be right there. The dental spa didn’t have enclosed rooms, so basically people were walking by all the time, supposedly. About 10 minutes into my fourth treatment I felt one of those shooting zingers. I wanted to tough it out, but it hurt a lot. Like biting into ice times a billion. So it went away and I hoped for the best. Then another one came a few minutes later. I cringed. About 16 minutes into the treatment they started to come more frequently. I waited as long as I could, but at some point I couldn’t take it… so I started to wave my hands. First calmly. Then frantically as the machine jolted me, also making some sort of noise with all the stuff in my mouth (i was really saying “HELP” but you couldn’t make that out).

What seemed like forever later, another nurse came over to see why I was making a fuss. She stopped the machine. At that point there was only about 3 minutes left and the dental assistant informed me that wouldn’t make much of a difference, so I could stop.

Good, I thought. I made it through the treatment; I’m a survivor.

She took all the gauze and such out of my mouth and showed me a mirror. My teeth were really white. I was so happy. They tried to sell me a bunch of Brite Smile products (to keep your teeth white) but I declined spending $100 on toothpaste and mouthwash.

I knew my teeth would dull down over the week (I read that people often do not see a difference after the color settles a week later, even if they see great white teeth the first day) so I did not get my hopes up too much. Still, I couldn’t help but smile. Smile all the way to the supermarket, where I was going to fill my Vicodin perscription.

Yes, I asked for Vicodin. Well, I asked, before the treatment, for a strong painkiller. I mentioned that I was worried about what I read. The dentist who spoke to me at the beginning said that if I was really concerned she’d write me a prescription for Vicodin. Thank fucking goodness she did.

When I got to the supermarket, the “zingers” started to kick in. I put my prescription in right away, but it took 15 minutes to fill so I was left to walk around the supermarket and wait. I enjoyed seeing my bright white reflection around the supermarket, and seeking out “white food” (I was only allowed to eat white/non-colored foot for the first 24 hours after getting the procedure done)… and then, bam. Zap. This shooting pain hit my tooth and rattled my brain. I wanted to laugh, because it was just what I had read about, but I just clenched and started to get nervous about waiting for the prescription to be filled.

A few more awful zingers later, I got my Vicodin. I took it right away. It helped a little, but not a lot. For the next 24 hours or so I’d have those zingers. I’d go to the bathroom and look in the mirror at my teeth to remind myself why I had spent $300 on such agony.

After 24 hours, I was fine. My teeth still looked pretty white, so I was happy. A week later, they got a bit yellower. Now, I think they’ve gone back to yellow but my boyfriend says they still look whiter then they were. They definitely aren’t AS yellow as they were to begin with. I’m very self conscious about my teeth so ultimately I’m glad I spent the money on this. I probably could have got equally good results with Whitestrips, but I always forget to wear those. This was a quick hit for whiter teeth. It hurt like a bitch, I’m not gonna lie, but it was worth waiting for that $299 special. At least I can now read all the horror stories about people who spent $600 on the treatment and feel like I got a good deal.

The Accidental Breadwinner: Some Women Have Their $hit Together

Thanks to The World of Wealth for pointing me to this fascinating NY Times article called The Accidental Breadwinner.”

Writer Karen Karbo details her three marriages, her long-ago dream to be taken care of by her breadwinner husband, and the reality of her making most of the dough in each of her marriages. She writes how a friend, whose husband made enough money to give her time off for a few years to “figure out her life” ended up with a cheating husband, stuck in a marriage in fear of now having enough money to live the life she’s become accustomed to.

Karbo poses the question, “Is it better for the longevity of a marriage if one party (usually the woman) feels financially trapped?”

Well, yes. Marriage, just like any other business relationship, tends to survive longer the more complicated it is to get out of. But that isn’t the kind of marriage I want to be in. Does it really take three marriages to get it right? Karbo sounds like she’s found happiness now, with split incomes and an unromantic agreement on who pays for what (including who pays for who’s kids.)

As I’ve written before, I’m worried about my current relationship because I’m the half of the duo motivated by money. That means my dreams of being the woman who works part time and takes care of the kids while my hubby brings home the bacon are all but dashed. Those dreams aren’t real anyway, but they certainly are, in the back of my mind, what I expected. That’s what happened to my mom. She went to school for fashion design and worked in the industry for 10 years, only to quit when I was born and become a housewife. And she’s always been afraid to leave my father because, like Karbo’s friend, she doesn’t want to also leave the life she’s grown accustomed to. The money she’s used to spending. Even if she did get a job, she’d likely be earning minimum wage. At 50 something years old, how many raises can one expect before retirement age approaches?

I refuse to get stuck in a marriage that’s destined for a situation like that. I’d rather be the breadwinner, accidental or predetermined. Still, my dream is a marriage where both parties bring in a sizable amount of income. My aunt and uncle are prime examples of that type of couple. The husband owns a one-man marketing firm, stays home, takes care of the kids, and still takes in six figures. The wife works as a marketing exec for a magazine, and also takes in six figures. Together, they own a nice house in a really nice neighborhood. That’s the kind of life I dream of. I can only hope that Mr. Sweetheart will realize that asking for raises is an expected and acceptable part of being in the workforce.

The Costs of Being a Girl… Without Health Insurance

(First of all, I want to apologize for being so behind on updating this blog. My life has gotten quite busy, which is a good thing, but I definitely haven’t updated this site as often as I should, or as often as I’ve wanted to. I do hope you’ll bare with me until I can make more frequent updates.)

Today’s post is brought to you by The American Health Care System. Due to failures in the system, this post is vastly underfunded, but luckily I’ve got plastic to pay it off…

One you’ve started bleeding (down there) or having sex (down there) – if you’re a girl – which I am – you’re supposed to go to the gynecologist once a year to get the basic test. Swab in, swab out. Needle prick. No sir you have no STDs, thanks for coming. The whole nine.

Prior to getting super-high deductible health insurance (with a $3000 deductible, so I count that as no insurance at all), I didn’t think twice about scheduling my yearly paps. The co-pays for the appointment, tests and pills were a bit annoying, but nothing that set me back any large sums. I barely went to the doctor anyway, so this wasn’t a huge deal.

Then came contract life. It took me forever to get accepted for any health insurance at all. Finally, I got accepted to a high deductible program. That sounded like a good idea. I’m young. Somewhat healthy. Well, I know what’s wrong with me, PCOS – ie, polycystic ovary syndrome – and the likelihood of my falling to the floor in pain due to anything other than a ruptured cyst is near zilch. That’s what the high-risk insurance is for. Accidents. Not day to day, or year to year stuff. That’s all out of pocket.

So my yearly health insurance, which covers nothing except a hospital visit (after I pay $3000), costs me, oh, $1600 or something like that. $1600 in case I fall down and break myself. That’s important to have.

But it’s not going to help me make sure I don’t have cancer or any other life-threatening illness. It’s not at all about prevention. It’s about post-intervention.

Ok, so I’m really sensitive to screening before things happen right now because my dad was just diagnosed with prostate cancer. And while I know that I’ll never have prostate cancer, I’m still very concerned about being at high risk for ovarian and uterian cancers due to PCOS and having, like, 2-3 periods a year (sans bc pills).

I want to be “good” and get tested yearly. I’m 24, nothing should be wrong, but it’s good to be safe. Plus, I like to have STD screenings every once in a while, just in case an earlier one was wrong. It takes like 6 months for some of those diseases to show up on tests. And sometimes tests lie.

Anyway, today I was scheduled for my annual pap and checkup with a gynocologyst I had seen about a year ago when my cyst ruptured and I felt like death. She did an ultrasound on me then, and perscribed me – tylenol. At the time, it was cheaper to perscribe me it because I had good health insurance and I got a cheaper price to buy it under the cover as opposed to over. Those days are, apparently, long gone.

Although a few weeks ago I had a very, very painful period and pre-period period, and felt little alien slugs were attacking my innerds, I opted to avoid spending $200 on another ultrasound that would likely end with the words “take tylenol.” Instead, I figured it made sense to schedule my annual pap with the doc, and then to ask her what was wrong with me then, or at least inquire as to what could be wrong with me given my symptoms, and go from there.

When I called up the gyno’s office, they told me the annual appointment, sans insurance, would be $180. Ok, so $180 isn’t a big deal. I mean, it is, but when you consider the cost to get better insurance that would actually cover that sort of thing would cost me about $180 A MONTH more, it wasn’t so bad.

But when I got to the office today – I was running late – it turned out I missed the appointment with the doc. Which actually was a good thing, because I was soon informed that the $180 for the appointment did not include any costs of labwork. Umm… isn’t that THE POINT of having a pap? Let’s just scrape my cervix for fun, why don’t we? Use the swabby stick as a paintbrush and have a little creative fun on the wax paper I’d be sitting on, sounds like a plan. Totally worth $180.

No one could really tell me how much the tests would cost. I guess they’re not used to seeing people without insurance. Or with crappy insurance, like my insurance. I got such mixed answers today. The lady at the front desk said 100s, and then the nurse pratictioner who I finally went in to see said the basic pap test would be only like $35 – $50. I don’t trust ranges.

What I really needed today, urgently, was treatment for my likely UTI. Yup, I have and have had a full-blown, painful urinary tract infection for over two weeks now. (TMI? Sorry.) I knew I needed antibiotics. I know when I have UTI. I get them all the time. This one was caused by drinking about 6 large glasses of iced tea and promptly getting on public transportation for about an hour. Lets just say my bladder was not a happy camper, and it made me pay for what I did to it.

At the doctor’s office, I ended up getting a “talking” appointment with the nurse practicioner because she happened to have a cancellation. They had me pee in a cup to test my urine for the UTI. Again, no one told me how much this would cost me. I was told – well, the doctor will look at your pee, then decide if we need to send it out. And sending it out – would be a lab fee. Ok, how much am I looking at? $50? $100? More? Can’t someone just give me antibiotics? I’ve been having UTIs all my life, I know I have a god damn UTI, I can tell you exactly how it happened. I can even reproduce the situation. Got any iced tea???

Well, I went into the examining room, and the nurse practioner came in to talk. She was really nice, but I could tell that she didn’t exactly love that I was wasting her time. Well, I wasn’t wasting her time, because she ended up charging me $65 for the appointment, but at least I left with a perscription for some generic antibiotics. Not sure how much those will cost me, but she said they’re and old brand and should be cheap. Right now I’ll pay anything for antibiotics, as that’s what I really, really need.

However, this doc told me that it prob makes sense for me to go to Planned Parenthood for my pap and checkup, since it’ll likely be cheaper. I was thinking of calling Planned Parenthood but I figured my income bracket would prob be too high for getting treated there. But this nurse gyno lady convinced me it might be best, and since I’ve never had an abnormal pap before, she didn’t seem to think there was any urgent need for me to get the test done.

Maybe she’s right. I’m 24, I have cysts on my ovaries, I get a period once in a blue polka-dotted moon and a UTI when the moon is full and white. What else is there to know?

Still, I want to get tested. So I left the doctor’s office $65 poorer with perscription in hand.

… a few minutes ago I called up Planned Parenthood to schedule an appointment. I was told by a friend that it’s better to tell them you have no insurance if you have high deductible insurance so they will see you. As, again, my insurance has such a high deductible it’s pretty much no insurance, I didn’t feel like that was much of a lie.

So I called and asked for the appointment. They proceeded to survey me about my age, ethnicity, and income. When they asked how much I make, I didn’t know what to say. The truth would surely be too high for any sort of affordable care. But I kind of did tell the truth. I told them I’m a contractor. Which is true. They asked how much I make per month. I said, well it ranges. She asked what the low end was. I picked a number out of the air. $2500, I said. The truth is the low end is like $400 when I don’t have a job and the high end is like $5000 when I do have a job. So I averaged it. What’s $2500 a month? $30k a year? Not quite poverty, I guess, but the only way to get reasonably costed checkups in this country is to be poor, apparently. Not that I’d wish for that, but when I was making less than $30k, I had health insurance, like real health insurance. And now… well, you know… not so much.

So I figured on a sliding scale, $2500 a month income might get me some discount on all the tests. I was told, by someone else, that she basically got free care at planned parenthood. And she had money, it’s just that she wasn’t making any money. She was a grad student, but she had money, somehow. Anyway…

I was told I didn’t qualify for a discount. So their pap would cost $300 (which, I think, includes lab services) which is MORE than what I was going to pay at the doctor’s office this morning… she was going to do the exam for $165 plus lab fees. Well, she said the lab fees were “$35-50” – whatever that means. Maybe it’d be about the same. Still, so much for finding cheaper care.

Meanwhile, I found out that at Planned Parenthood, you could get birth control pills without a full exam. It’d just be $30 for an appointment and $22+ for the pills, depending on which ones you want. I guess most of planned parenthood’s funding is really about not making babies, not, not having cancer (which makes sense. It’s not Planned Ovarian Health Org). And the cost of a full STD screening at my “level of income?” $150.

I think all of this has me rethinking my career. I love my job. It’s wonderful. But I just need REAL health insurance. So maybe I’ll start looking for a job that provides that. I hate to do that. My company seems to have health insurance for “full time employees” (not contractors who work 40 hours a week) but even their health insurance, I think, is high deductible. I’m not sure, I haven’t really looked into it, but it sounds like they all have HSA plans which means they must be high deductibles, I think. They’re a small 8ish person startup, so they can’t afford good health insurance. Can’t blame them for that. But I don’t even get that. Everything comes out of pocket. And my pretty good contract rate starts looking less and less good…

It’s just hard to figure out the total cost of everything when it comes to healthcare. And in this case, the comparision between a year of being on crappy healthcare at $140 a month and having to pay for all health costs out of pocket and working as a contractor where I can work from home on some days and save on gas money, versus getting a “real job” with a salary and benefits, and having to go in every day and spend money on gas and extra travel time and being miserable and needing to spend money on a therapist.

It’s impossible to really compare that. Maybe I should just pay $300 something a month for an HMO. I can’t decifer if it’s worth it. I have an HSA plan but haven’t even opened an HSA account yet because that kind of seems like a joke. They charge you a fee to open the account, and to maintain it. It’s basically another RothIRA, but I go for index funds, and then I have limited choice in investments, and – the kicker is it’s not even tax-free in California. So…

blah.

How Does Anyone Afford Superficial Purchases?

I went to the mall today. I know, I know, I should never do that. But sometimes I like to shop. I went for an hour on my lunch break. I tried on a bunch of clothing. Outfits that would cost me two month’s of my food budget. Looking in the mirror, I realized that even these garments, these $200 pairs of jeans and $99 shirts layered over another $99 shirt weren’t able to make me look halfway decent.

I stared at my thighs. Those chicken legs. Short, with lots of fat up on my inner thigh. I thought of a time when I was thinner and how that fat was still there, albeit slightly less prominent. I thought about how growing up my mother constantly reminded me of my fat stomach, that protruding bump that must be hidden at all times, but how she never mentioned my giant hips, butt or thighs – and how I wonder if my legs will ever look remotely attractive.

Then, I thought about liposuction. The surgery that, with a little vacuum cleaner, sucks out all your fat (while cleaning out your bank account.)

I came home, obsessed with the idea of lipo. After all, my happiness depends on not having fat thighs. That’s worth the price, isn’t it?

Of course, I’ll probably never get liposuction. The costs are far too great. It would probably cost me $3000-$4000 just to get rid of the lard on my inner thigh. And there are plenty of other areas I want to tackle to. I imagine lipo for all of my problem areas would add up to over $20k. Lower abdomen, arms, inner thigh, hips, outer thigh…

And then, I really want to get my teeth fixed. They’re yellowish and crooked, with an unsightly gap in the middle.

Throw in the laser hair removal, which would probably not be permanent due to my having PCOS (polycystic ovary syndrome), add some hair extensions for kicks, a breast lift, some laser eye surgery, maybe foot surgery because that weird bone sticks out making my toes really wide and impossible to fit into any shoes, plus, why not also get a laser facial to make my skin look fresh and radiant, some new highlights and hair dye, and… then, only then, will I even start to feel good about how I might look in that pair of $200 jeans, and that $99 shirt layered over another $99 shirt.

But… at what point in one’s career does she feel entitled to spending that much money on making herself beautiful? Obviously people do it, there wouldn’t be that many plastic surgeons in the world if the only people getting such surgery were in accidents.

I’m 24 now, and in my 20s, I just want to be beautiful. In my 30s, I want to be beautiful. I want to enjoy the last remnants of my youth by – being able to wear a bikini and feel beautiful.

Sure, I could exercise, I could eat right. That would help a lot. But I don’t think all of the fat would go away. It would stick around some places. That’s just what happens. That’s why people get surgery.

I want to save up for liposuction.

But I also want to, one day, buy a house.

Lipo versus a house… I think the house wins.

And once I buy a house, well, I’ll have to pay for that house for many years to come.

And then I’ll have children and they’ll cost a fortune. And if I actually have them (and not adopt) my stomach will get even worse. And I’ll want plastic surgery even more. But by then it will be impossible to be that selfish. The money will have to go to bills and health insurance for the family and my kids and their summer camps and college and…

And I’ll never be able to enjoy being beautiful.

Psychology of Overspending: Buying Happiness

Check out the awesome interview with me over at LuluGal’s HowISaveMoney.net in her weekly “meet the blogger” series!

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Ok, I’ll admit it. I’ve been awful with my finances this last month.

I auditioned for this fashion assistant reality show that will air on CW and, prior to the casting, I used it as an excuse to spend way too much money on new clothes that I mostly didn’t need.

The good news is I returned the things that I’ll likely never wear. I’ve definitely passed my days of fearing going to a store and returning an item. Even though 59% of the time a return ends up equaling another purchase (just keep me away from the mall, ok?) I’ve gotten better about returning without buying something else, or buying something much cheaper to quench my spending arousal without bursting my budget.

Realizing that this need for spending is so deeply routed in my depressed childhood, well, it makes me want to spend a little less.

I think I’ve written about this briefly before, but I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately.

I was such a loner as a kid. I was “cootie girl” / odd girl out. I still am a bit of an oddball, but I’ve found my niche, I think. As a kid, it was unbearable.

All that made me feel good in life were compliments. Some of those compliments I’d earn from drawing a picture or something, but the easiest way I found to earn compliments was to wear something that would get me noticed.

Going to the store to shop was me the kid in a candy store. And my mom let me get pretty much everything I wanted. I didn’t buy super expensive clothes, but at a fairly affordable department store like JcPenny, I could easily spend $500-$700 in one visit. I just bought a lot of things. My mom told me that if something fit I should buy a few pairs and have it in every color it comes in, even if I didn’t like those colors.

Then we got home and my dad, who was making the money, would throw a fit about our spending. I felt guilty about that. It was, partially, my fault. That, I think, was one of the major rifts that formed between my parents early in their marriage. They shouldn’t have been together in the first place, but without that shared understanding about finances, it couldn’t work (yes they’re still married and, no, they shouldn’t be.)

As I grew up, the idea about buying happiness stayed.

I remember in middle school spending hundreds of dollars of my parent’s money to buy my “friends” smallish $10 gifts. My friends was anyone I knew, I really, hoping that if I bought them some cute earrings they might like me a little more. I think maybe they did. I didn’t get nearly the same amount of gifts in return, but then I was so naive and didn’t realize that others at my own school didn’t have the same sort of disposable income that my family did. Besides, people who I knew but weren’t close friends with weren’t going to get me gifts. Still, I liked the surprise they got when I gave them a gift. I thought for a milisecond, maybe they even liked me. And that was worth more than all the money in the world.

Nowadays, my biggest cause of overspending is the infamous “SALE” sign. I love feeling like I got a good bargain, as it gets me off in so many ways. First of all, I got to buy something (score) and secondly I got that something of preferably great quality for a large percentage off. The schadenfreude spot of my brain is laughing to itself and saying, with a Dr. Evil voice and pinky finger to my mouth – “hahahahahah, someone else actually spent $300 on this while I’m getting it for just $100!”

The problem, obviously, is that $100 is a lot of money and after a few items at $100 or $70, it adds up. Maybe not to what I would have spent on the original item at the department store, but I usually end up spending more on sales than when I go to a department store and buy one item at full price.

The only way I keep my spending in control now is by avoiding use of my credit card at all costs. But I’ve gotten to the point in my life where I want to start building my credit history aggressively, and I’m also getting fed up with the crappy rewards that my bank of america debit card offers (keep the change is kind of cute, but I’m not saving much with it.)

So I decided to sign up for some new credit cards.

I FEAR credit cards because I’m terrible at paying bills at times. I always end up with a late fee on a bill of $30 that ends up costing more than the actual bill.

OK, so I’m going to pay these bills on time, once I start using my new credit cards.

I’ve been reading a lot about the Chase Freedom Card and one of the American Express cashback cards (as soon as I remember the name I’ll write it here.) I was reading about them on another frugal bloggers blog (as soon as I remember the name of where I’ll add it here too).

So I never realized how much money I could save just by using a credit card for purchases, especially now that I’m spending quite a bit of money a year. I still can’t put my largest purchase, my rent, on my credit card, but I can start saving by buying gas, clothes, food and other things on a CC. Sweet. I like me some savings.

For those of you interested in figuring out what credit card(s) would be best for you, I recommend checking out the Cash Back Credit Card calculator over at askmrcreditcard.com — it seemes really helpful. I think it’s accurate.

I’ll be writing a more thorough post about credit cards and my cash back rewards in the future… once I actually get the cards, that is.