You're moving to a new city. You're not sure how it's going to go financially. You want to save up a little cash cushion... just in case. (Just in case you need take-out one night, or just in case you can't quite make rent one month.)
Let me guess. You're also trying to get rid of a bunch of crap while you're downsizing. But letting go is difficult. Also, who'd want to buy your crap?
I'll tell you... people on Craigslist. They're local, they're bored, and they happen to have $10 to spend on your plastic lawn chairs.
Fine, sell the lawn chairs. Sell the tea kettle. Sell the old couch. You're not taking it with you, and otherwise you would end up donating it. That's an easy decision, and Craigslist fits the bill. Plus, you don't even have to borrow you're buddy's truck to transport it to the Salvation Army! "Cash only. No deliveries, you must pick up" you write while composing your ad.
But what about those things that aren't so easy to give up? Aren't you selling your soul a little bit by taking cash for something you worked so hard for, or that someone special gave to you? It would almost feel better to donate it than to put a price on it...
No. Put a price on it. We are in a recession. This is about survival. Can you put a price on your credit score? Being evicted? Eating nutritious food? Staying healthy?
It's about letting go. That book your aunt gave you and inscribed that you haven't touched since... let it go. The craft project you only made it halfway through and spent all that money on tools three years ago... let it go. The beautiful glassware you got at the Turkish Bazaar in Istanbul and never ever used except that one time... let it go.
With that in mind, here are the steps toward selling your soul (and more importantly, stuff) on Craigslist!
Step One: Let GO.
The first step is to release your own notion of what it's worth to you. Take a picture. Hold it in your arms. You will always remember this THING. Now forget your ideas about what you paid for it or what it means. The person buying it from you is also experiencing the recession. So find out what they will pay, reasonably, and decide if you're willing to negotiate...
Step Two: Research.
Go online and search for other similarly priced items. If you are going to negotiate, price it a little high and make sure to include "price negotiable" or "OBO" (Or Best Offer) in your ad. If you don't feel like bargaining, set the price where it belongs and set your expectations right alongside it. The memory is a thing now. Keep the memory. Get rid of the thing.
Step Three: Take pictures.
Better yet, take GOOD pictures. If you don't have a great camera, just make the most of the one you have by placing the item on a blank, preferably white surface. The thing is surrounded by cleanliness, which gives the impression that you have kept it clean and maintained it. Something crappy can then become something vintage. Make sure the photo is well lit. Dark pictures make the buyer feel like you are perhaps shady because you spend all your time in the basement taking dimly lit photographs of your crap and putting it for sale on craigslist... that's not you,... right?
Step Four: Write the post.
Get your thoughts down on paper. People rarely read more than 75 words at a time, ever, so just keep it Short, Simple, and Searchable. If I were to add another S to that list, it would be Spell correctly. That way people won't take advantage of you. Sometimes I do add in a sentence that makes me seem (a) charming and (b) justified in wanting to sell the item. For example, "I'm giving up crafting for a while to focus on full-time blogging, so you can reap the rewards!"
Step Five: Post it.
You'll need a Craigslist account. Make sure it links to your preferred email address for receiving emails if you prefer not to include your phone number. Craigslist will then give you the option to make your email address anonymous to posters. Go to "my account" and select "new posting." Select your locale and continue. Keep the title simple and descriptive. Make sure the price and location are included. People use these to search for items. The text of your post is also searchable. Paste in the text you just wrote. Add the pictures. Continue and then approve the draft. Craigslist may ask you to verify your posting from your email account. Once you do that, your post will be up in about 15 minutes. Then... if people want your thing, you will start receiving contact.
Step Six: Seal the Deal
Set up a time to meet to make the exchange and make sure they know the price and location. Sometimes people just don't show, so be aware of that. Watch out for scams. If you're not sure about some weird communication you got, don't feel obligated to return the email or call. Most of all, don't hand out any of your information unnecessarily. If you feel at all unsafe, either don't set up an appointment or have someone with you, like your friend who's a bouncer. Be careful out there.
Congratulations. You are now prepared to make money on Craigslist and leave the material portion of your favorite memories in someone else's hands.
Maslow's Budget
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Empty-handed.
With seven apartments lined up to see, I had high hopes that I'd find the perfect one... like a wedding dress, or a puppy... I'd know as soon as I laid eyes on it. That couldn't have been further from the truth.
I prefer not to think of it as a wasted trip. Coming back from Chicago without having signed a lease is a good thing in the long run, especially with all that I learned along the way.
I have a bad history with house-searching. Finding boyfriends instead of houses, for instance. Most have been carpeted, which has been horrible and smelly (the apartments, not the boyfriends). I seem to have excellent taste, yet paradoxically low standards. While searching, my thinking tends to be something to the effect of "Good enough! I'll make it work, and I'll make it beautiful." And I have.
For example, here are some shots of past rooms that I have dolled up to the extreme. You should have seen them beforehand.... *shudder*
So yesterday morning, when I arrived in Chicago's Irving Park neighborhood, I absolutely fell in love. The neighborhood is by no means gentrified. I mean to say that it's about one square mile of apartments, brownstones, and single family homes where families actually live and people talk to each other on the street.
Irving Park is surrounded by four streets where you can't get a single vinyl record, organic soy milk, or cappucino... but you can definitely get your car fixed, have a sign made, get your nails done, or eat some fresh pita bread or pollo asada depending on the day.
I was already primed by the neighborhood to fall head over heels for the first apartment I saw. It was cute, $825 one bedroom including heat, no security deposit, and dog friendly... so I said "good enough," as usual and put in an application.
Fortunately, my partner is far pickier than I am with an unwavering sense of style that has yielded far better results in terms of living spaces in the past. This is our first home together, so we're both concerned with choosing a good (and inexpensive one). If it was just me, I probably would have signed a lease on that first apartment immediately. I'm glad I didn't.
I did find a second apartment I liked, but it was required a month and a half security deposit plus pet deposit ($1600 immediately, not including the first month's rent - pretty steep). It was huge and beautiful, but she was showing it to five other people on the same day, and I felt rushed. But for only $125 more than the first one, I could get 200 sf more living space and far more vintage charm... my head was spinning.
When I returned to the first apartment, they needed to know right away too. I wasn't feeling ready to decide, especially without both of us feeling really strongly about it.
My dad's voice popped into my head: "If someone ever tells you that you have to decide right now, your answer should be no. A decision under pressure rarely turns out well unless you've been researching and waiting for that very moment to arrive. If it doesn't feel right, just back out."
Wise words. But walking away from two great, inexpensive apartments felt just as foolish as jumping in head first. I felt weak and embarrassed because by going alone, I learned that I didn't feel capable of deciding without my partner with me.
Should I be the kind of woman who knows and gets what she wants and can accomplish an important task like choosing an apartment confidently with both herself and her partner in mind?
I don't know if I should strive to be that woman, but I do know that I'm the kind of woman who likes making decisions calmly, slowly, and through conversation, only taking calculated risks. I know that I need my partner by my side when choosing a home for the next year. I didn't know that at 9am this morning, but I know now.
Empty-handed, I am. But I still think my mom's locket worked like a charm. It reminded me of where I come from - with wise and sometimes cautious parents who worked hard and did well for themselves because of it. I want to work hard and do well for myself, and I don't want jump into deep water and find out I'm not that great at treading water.
I prefer not to think of it as a wasted trip. Coming back from Chicago without having signed a lease is a good thing in the long run, especially with all that I learned along the way.
I have a bad history with house-searching. Finding boyfriends instead of houses, for instance. Most have been carpeted, which has been horrible and smelly (the apartments, not the boyfriends). I seem to have excellent taste, yet paradoxically low standards. While searching, my thinking tends to be something to the effect of "Good enough! I'll make it work, and I'll make it beautiful." And I have.
For example, here are some shots of past rooms that I have dolled up to the extreme. You should have seen them beforehand.... *shudder*
So yesterday morning, when I arrived in Chicago's Irving Park neighborhood, I absolutely fell in love. The neighborhood is by no means gentrified. I mean to say that it's about one square mile of apartments, brownstones, and single family homes where families actually live and people talk to each other on the street.
Irving Park is surrounded by four streets where you can't get a single vinyl record, organic soy milk, or cappucino... but you can definitely get your car fixed, have a sign made, get your nails done, or eat some fresh pita bread or pollo asada depending on the day.
I was already primed by the neighborhood to fall head over heels for the first apartment I saw. It was cute, $825 one bedroom including heat, no security deposit, and dog friendly... so I said "good enough," as usual and put in an application.
Fortunately, my partner is far pickier than I am with an unwavering sense of style that has yielded far better results in terms of living spaces in the past. This is our first home together, so we're both concerned with choosing a good (and inexpensive one). If it was just me, I probably would have signed a lease on that first apartment immediately. I'm glad I didn't.
I did find a second apartment I liked, but it was required a month and a half security deposit plus pet deposit ($1600 immediately, not including the first month's rent - pretty steep). It was huge and beautiful, but she was showing it to five other people on the same day, and I felt rushed. But for only $125 more than the first one, I could get 200 sf more living space and far more vintage charm... my head was spinning.
When I returned to the first apartment, they needed to know right away too. I wasn't feeling ready to decide, especially without both of us feeling really strongly about it.
My dad's voice popped into my head: "If someone ever tells you that you have to decide right now, your answer should be no. A decision under pressure rarely turns out well unless you've been researching and waiting for that very moment to arrive. If it doesn't feel right, just back out."
Wise words. But walking away from two great, inexpensive apartments felt just as foolish as jumping in head first. I felt weak and embarrassed because by going alone, I learned that I didn't feel capable of deciding without my partner with me.
Should I be the kind of woman who knows and gets what she wants and can accomplish an important task like choosing an apartment confidently with both herself and her partner in mind?
I don't know if I should strive to be that woman, but I do know that I'm the kind of woman who likes making decisions calmly, slowly, and through conversation, only taking calculated risks. I know that I need my partner by my side when choosing a home for the next year. I didn't know that at 9am this morning, but I know now.
Empty-handed, I am. But I still think my mom's locket worked like a charm. It reminded me of where I come from - with wise and sometimes cautious parents who worked hard and did well for themselves because of it. I want to work hard and do well for myself, and I don't want jump into deep water and find out I'm not that great at treading water.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
I couldn't sleep last night.
That never happens. Usually I crash a little too early for a 29-year-old.
My mind was too lucid. I was having ideas. All of my worries about the coming months were assembling into a shape in my mind, one by one, stacking according to my priorities in life.
I'd like to think that I'm an adult by now. My health insurance situation, my all-but-dissertation status, and my salary might not suggest that is the case. But I have values (family, love, hard work, truth, beauty), right? At least I know what I want out of life.
But before I claim all of that, I need a roof over my head. Tomorrow morning, I'm going to Chicago to check out seven apartments. Seven, they say, is a magical number. Each moment of hopefulness is matched by one of trepidation... What am I doing? I just gave my notice at work and I don't have another job lined up. In a recession.
Don't worry. I have a plan, and it started last night. Two and two added up to four. What I need is a budget, but something different than the typical... this one will be conceptual, with levels of spending to match levels of income.
It's really a behavior budget as much as a money budget.
Click on the budget page to see the plan. Over the coming 6 months, I'll let you know how it goes. The job search, the apartment search, and how to manage life and love on a budget.
My mother's locket (my most powerful good luck charm) is around my neck. I think I need to wear it for the next two weeks, if not the next two years.
My mind was too lucid. I was having ideas. All of my worries about the coming months were assembling into a shape in my mind, one by one, stacking according to my priorities in life.
I'd like to think that I'm an adult by now. My health insurance situation, my all-but-dissertation status, and my salary might not suggest that is the case. But I have values (family, love, hard work, truth, beauty), right? At least I know what I want out of life.
But before I claim all of that, I need a roof over my head. Tomorrow morning, I'm going to Chicago to check out seven apartments. Seven, they say, is a magical number. Each moment of hopefulness is matched by one of trepidation... What am I doing? I just gave my notice at work and I don't have another job lined up. In a recession.
Don't worry. I have a plan, and it started last night. Two and two added up to four. What I need is a budget, but something different than the typical... this one will be conceptual, with levels of spending to match levels of income.
It's really a behavior budget as much as a money budget.
Click on the budget page to see the plan. Over the coming 6 months, I'll let you know how it goes. The job search, the apartment search, and how to manage life and love on a budget.
My mother's locket (my most powerful good luck charm) is around my neck. I think I need to wear it for the next two weeks, if not the next two years.
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