Starting Out

I've heard that every blog starts with an ah hah moment. One lazy Sunday afternoon, I was wandering down Telegraph Avenue with a couple friends, looking for cheap flannel shirts to give to homeless people. After finding only unattainable goods, my friends decided that the drive to Telegraph would not be wasted; they would at least have lunch. I froze.

Stop.

Here are some important facts you need to know to understand why lunch is quite so horrifying. I have a wonderful, but low-paying job. I love it, but I am impoverished. In order to qualify for said delightful job, I amassed about $80,000 in student loans. On top of the loans, I also live alone in a charming studio in an admittedly upscale area of Oakland. On top of rent, I also lived off of my credit card for a few months between college and employment. All of this has created a maelstrom of a financial situation. I am poor. Now, to continue:

This lazy Sunday happened to be a few days after I paid my rent. It also happened to occur soon after the maxing out of my accursed credit card. (This maxing out has more to do with interest than shopping, at this point.) In fact, I wasn't even entirely sure my rent check wouldn't bounce. I had less than nothing. And I was famished. You know when you get so hungry that you start getting shaky and flushed? That's how hungry I was. Never before had I been in a situation where I could not join in a simple, cheap meal. Shouldn't join I was very familiar with, but when push came to shove, I'd always had the choice. Until this time.

I told my friends I would just cook for myself when I got home, so they just nodded and sauntered up to the counter to order. I found myself sitting at the dingy table and watching them eat breakfast burritos. It was only with great effort I could tear my eyes away from their food. I examined the murals on the wall. We chatted. All the while I was trembling with hunger and starting to feel sick. If I had asked, I'm sure they would have shared, but I didn't want to beg, not knowing when or if I would be able to pay them back. I knew I wouldn't starve to death in the next hour or so, but I was also pretty certain that if I didn't eat soon I was going to puke.

At long last they finished and we all went back to my house. While they putzed around on my laptop, I dashed into the kitchen and whipped a lunch as fast as I possibly could. They did not seem to notice my haste, nor that I wolfed my food down moments after I took it off the stove.

This was the clearest example I have yet experienced of my situation. I cannot waltz into a cafe for lunch with a friend. I cannot walk across the street for coffee with the girls for work. Shopping, once a beloved pastime, now seems an unattainable luxury. I was raised to be a comfortably middle class citizen. My tastes lean towards sushi and Bloomingdale's. Things I once considered my birthright are now impossibly out of reach.

I am slowly learning to navigate the gaping disconnect between the life I was taught to live and the life I actually afford. I suspect this situation is not unheard of, or even uncommon. I don't claim to be a perfect example, but I am pleased to say that I have found a few thrifty hacks. I manage to have a pretty decent time. This blog is intended to share my tricks and shortcuts for fashion, food, furnishings, and anything else that starts with f. Suggestions are always welcome!