#so i just should just spend those last years working for a miserable minimum wage?
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cant find the "im busy being the homie whos not gonna make it" post but im Feeling It
#quando der tudo errado eu só vou pra rua de madrugada e espero aparecer dois caras numa moto#its so hard to find motivation to get a job when the world is falling apart#so i just should just spend those last years working for a miserable minimum wage?#i wanna enjoy the little freedom i have while the planet is still habitable#mmmm i need a drink
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Hsggsajjddj
I'm so frustrated and at the end of my rope like. IDK what I'm supposed to do. She owes me $10k in rent and then texts me about how she's probably going to have to quit her job for her mental health as she can't take it anymore =((((. And that her boss gave her until Monday to decide "if she wants to keep her job or not"
Bitch??? Yes you 'want to keep' your fucking job are you insane???? It took you a fucking year and a half to find a new job from the last time you quit for your mental health. And I PAID FOR YOUR RENT THE ENTIRE TIME. Because every month you'd say, oh, next month I'll have a job for sure!!! And then I'll pay you back and then some!! Except for the months you fucking didn't and just took for granted that I'd pay the rent in full and wouldn't kick you out. And now you have a job. And you said you'd be getting another one soon in order to pay me back all the rent. And now you're going to quit this job. Sure. Right. Whatever
She is moving out for sure in April, the paperwork is already signed but I can't believe she'd actually go through this all again. Like? I've seriously considered taking her to small claims court except I literally know she doesn't have any money to pay me back with so it'd be pointless.
I'm just so so tired. It's always one crisis after another with her. Always something terrible going on that she's so miserable about and her mental health is so terrible that she can't do anything. And like. I get it. But also. You're an adult, sometimes you just have to do stuff anyways. Even if it's bad and it sucks.
Maybe if she didn't absolutely suck ass at job searching/interviews this wouldn't be such an issue for me. But she is way, wayyyy too honest and tells her potential employer everything, /including/ that she is disabled and can't drive. Which obviously in our unwalkable Midwest town, gets her a straight shot to the end of the list for hiring. But she says she doesn't want to work for anyone who can't handle/accept those things right off the bay because it would be a bad work environment. And like, yeah, if you weren't literally living in poverty and only getting by due to me and your boyfriend providing for your basic needs, you could be concerned about all that.
I just. I thought we were over this. She got a job. It was nice for a while. She actually paid rent!!!! And now we're back to square one, the exact same position she was in when she moved in with me 3 years ago. And I was willing to help her then bcs she was getting out of a terrible situation and ready to start her life and get a job and start building a future. And she promised me things would change and be different. And now she's going to give it all up again?? Go back to staying in bed all day and not getting up until 3 PM? Cause /that/ was such a great time for your mental health?? I just can't wrap my head around how the fuck she expects this to go
Oh and her boyfriend has been working two jobs but was going to quit the second one so they could spend more time together and bcs he was working 75+ hours a week plus having to drive her everywhere bcs she can't drive. And she was so worried about his health with working so much. You think he's going to be able to quit his second job if you quit your only job?? And support the two of you on one minimum wage income??
I guess at this point I should just consider my money gone and our friendship significantly harmed by this entire experience. It's just that she gave me hope that things would actually change this time and that she could get her shit together. But I guess not
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How unions de-risk work
Yesterday, I published an essay about how monopolies beget monopolies: when deregulation kicked off a wave of pharma mergers, the new pharma oligopoly gained the power to raise prices on hospitals.
https://pluralistic.net/2021/03/16/wage-theft/#excessive-buyer-power
The hospitals weren't able to form a cartel to insist on better prices: the US antitrust law created by Ronald Reagan's court sorcerer Robert Bork is incredibly tolerant of monopolist price-rigging, but violently opposed to cartels that price-rig.
Rather than forming a cartel, the hospitals gobbled each other up to create monopolies. If the CEOs of six hospitals insist on better drug prices, it's illegal. If the presidents of six hospitals (all owned by the same monopolist) do the same thing, it's fine.
Big Hospital wasn't merely better positioned to demand better drug prices from Big Pharma, they were also able to charge more to the fragmented, decentralized health insurance industry.
Predictably, this kicked off a wave of mergers that produced Big Insurance, a monopolized world that gives most Americans between zero and two insurers who'll take their business.
Freed from the risk of losing customers and bulked up to meet hospital monopolies on even footings, insurance companies could both insist on lower payouts to hospitals and *higher* premiums from patients. And at last we had some sort of equilibrium.
Pharma companies could charge more for drugs, but not too much more. Hospitals could lower the standard of care, raise prices, and squeeze workers' wages and working conditions. Insurance companies could cut payments to hospitals, raise prices and hike co-pays.
Everyone got what they wanted, except for two groups that can't form monopolies that push back against this monopoly-dominated industry:
* Patients, and
* Workers
Historically, the "monopolist" safeguarding patients' interests was the state: democratically elected lawmakers who relied on voters for re-election. The massive increase in corporate campaign finance was attended by steady erosion of political loyalty to the public interest.
And so the public lost its champion, and prices went up and quality went down and redress was whittled away to performative apologies after crises of too great a magnitude to be ignored, accompanied by fines that were mere fractions of the profits from corruption.
Meanwhile, workers' champions were their unions: solidarity organizations that corrected the negotiating imbalance between employers and employees by presenting a united front.
That unity extended beyond the gates of a single employer. Picket-line crossing was a grave sin, so if your hotel's maids went out on strike, the Teamsters wouldn't deliver your groceries and the taxi cabs wouldn't pick up at your entrance.
And related trades were able to bargain together: in Hollywood, the writers and actors and tradespeople would start each contract season by visiting the weakest studio as a body and demand the best deal, then require parity from other studios in turn.
Since the Reagan years, union power has been drained off. For example, the way Hollywood unions negotiate has been flipped on its head. Now, the *studios* visit the weakest union as a body and demand the most labor concessions, then take those to the other unions in turn.
It's been generations since union power was a given, and we haven't just lost our power, we've lost our imaginations - the sense of what is possible, what we are owed, how the system could work. We've learned to take precarity and low wages as a given.
That's why Reina Sultan's "8 People Describe How Unions Changed Their Lives" for Vice is so important: not because it is heartwarming (though it is) but because it is ripe with possibility, the recovered wisdom of a fallen civilization.
https://www.vice.com/en/article/bvxqvm/why-unions-are-good-first-hand-accounts-of-how-unions-change-lives
These eight workers describe how joining a union turned precarity into certainty. How the hotels they worked for had to promise to hire them back after the pandemic lifted. How they were promised ten hours of uninterrupted sleep between shifts.
How their employers had to accommodate their disabilities. How they were guaranteed health insurance that covered their whole families. How they were protected from being arbitrarily fired, and guaranteed severance pay when they were laid off.
These guarantees have a common theme: they de-risk being a worker and make it riskier to be an employer. Much of our day-to-day life is a series of negotiations over who should bear the risk that things will turn out bad.
Think of all the corporate bailouts, how these are "socialism for shareholders, capitalism for workers." When the fed bails out banks and employers but not mortgage holders and workers, they move risk off the finance-sector's balance sheet and stick it on our balance sheet.
When you run a business, you assume risks. Maybe you have a slow Saturday and end up paying workers to hang around with nothing to do. If you can book a worker's Sat, but unilaterally send them home two hours into their shift because it's slow, you shift your risk onto them.
The worker has to be available for you, but you don't have to use that availability. Likewise disability accommodations: when you hire and train a worker, you face the risk that they will become disabled, permanently or temporarily, on or off the job.
When that happens, you might have to pay to change the physical environment so they can do their job, or give them disability pay. If you can just fire them, you shift the risk onto the worker, and off your own books.
Every benefit described by workers in Way's article is risk being shifted from workers back onto employers. The right not to be summarily fired means workers aren't at risk from vindictive, bad bosses. It also means employers may struggle to shed "low-performing" workers.
It's a good reminder of the "struggle" in "class struggle." These risks are, by their nature, zero-sum. To decrease the risk of being stuck with a bad employee, you have to *increase* the risk of an employee being targeted by a bad manager. There's no win-win here.
Sure, employers will say that they share the workers' interest in rooting out bad managers, but there is an inescapable contradiction between reserving the right to fire anyone, for any reason, and making sure workers aren't unjustly fired.
The same goes for every benefit articulated by union members. If you're an electrician who wants to be able to get home, sleep and go back to work without being interrupted for ten straight hours, you push risk onto your employer.
Meanwhile, if you *don't* have that right, your employer gets to shove risk onto you. For example, they could underinvest in upgrades and preventative maintenance, knowing that when things break down, they can summon you to get them working again, without paying any overtime.
The project of worker solidarity comes down to this foundational question: who should bear which risks? Would you rather have bad bosses firing people over personal vendettas, or co-workers who are hard to fire even though they're not great at their jobs?
We don't need to pretend that moving risk onto employers' side of the ledger always produces better outcomes. It doesn't. Workers can be jerks, too. But an individual bad boss has the power to do enormous harm to their entire workforce over a long term.
Think of all the people maimed, killed and sickened in Amazon's warehouses because of one individual's willingness and ability to shift risk off his balance sheet and onto theirs.
It's true that an especially toxic unionized worker could make life miserable for many, many other workers - but that's still a better outcome than an especially toxic CEO, not least because unions give workers the power to address bad workers even when management won't.
Is it possible for things to be overbalanced, for too much risk to be shifted off of worker's balance sheets and onto employers' side of the ledger? Sure, theoretically. But that is a situation so far removed from workplace reality today that it's practically a fairy-tale.
And if we're really worried about too much risk landing on employers, then we can go back to the peoples' source of power: democratic governance. Unions represent a power-bloc that can (but don't always) hold politicians to account.
It's hard to imagine any political path to checking corporate power that doesn't include organized groups of workers *and* organized groups of citizens, working for political change.
If health insurance, disability accommodations, retirement pay, parental leave and other sources of workplace risk are moved onto the public's balance sheet, they cease to be things that workers or employers need to argue about. They're just a given.
Think of it this way: bosses and workers don't fight over who will pay to pave the roads to the business. They don't fight over who will fight fires, or allocate RF frequency for the office wireless network. These risks are moved to the public ledger, where they belong.
This kind of political change is also hard to imagine, after 40 years of Reaganomics. But unionization makes it more achievable, because another word for "risk" is "profit." Shifting risk from workers onto bosses shifts money from bosses to workers.
Monopolized employers extract monopoly rents from their customers and gouge monopoly concessions from their workers. This isn't just extra money to send to shareholders - it's also extra money to spend in the political realm, blocking reforms that benefit everyone.
That's how we get wage stagnation and ghouls like Manchin and Sinema tanking the $15 minimum wage. The money extracted from workers was sent to these politicians so they would vote to make it possible to keep extracting money from workers.
Unionization - workplace justice - doesn't win the war for political justice. But it *does* cut the enemy's supply lines, deprive them of the ammo they're using to fight us.
Image: still from "Union Maids" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=74gvcvXlgnM
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So today was a day...
Not more than 10 minutes after opening the doors at work this morning I had a man try to enter the building without a mask. As I was stationed at the door this morning I offered the man a fresh mask and informed him that we are requiring people to wear masks inside the building. He ignored me by telling me that he already checked with the county commissioner and there is no county mandate for people to wear masks then walked right past me into the building. I quickly followed after him, trying to inform him that it was library policy that had nothing to do with county mandates but he again refused to listen to me and started rambling on with the same speel, refusing to listen to me. And the kicker was... he didn’t even want to use the library... He just wanted to return his books. Books he could have very easily put in the drop box right outside the door. But instead of doing that, he wanted to walk into the building without a mask to return them. In other words, he wanted to swing his dick around and prove to me he could do anything he wanted and I couldn’t stop him.
This of course went into an incident report I had to spend the morning filling out... Just because this asshole wanted to feel like no one could tell him what to do, I was forced to spend the morning filling out paperwork when I really needed to be doing other things, putting me way behind in my duties for the day. Something simple that would have taken him all of ten seconds, or even less than that if he had used the book drop, ended up costing me an hour and a half of my time which I really didn’t have to spare in the first place...
But that was only the start of my horrible day... Because the rest of the day was filled with similar people just like him who all felt the need to make our lives miserable over the covid precautions put into place in the library. As it turns out, there was to be a board meeting at the end of the day held there at the library. A full board meeting consisting of the board members of both our library and the board members of our sister library in the next town over. And one of the topics on the agenda was discussing what covid precautions were to be taken going forward. Knowing this, the local rat lickers had apparently decided to start attacking us early, and keep at it thoughout the day, almost as if they were trying to wear us down and beat us into submission before the meeting even took place.
When my library director arrived at work that afternoon, she asked me to personally attend the meeting because she had added the incident report to the agenda and wanted me there if they had any questions. I agreed to attend. And when the day came to an end and the board meeting was begin, I received the unfortunate privilege of getting to bear witness to a mob of the worst, most entitled collection of plague rats our community had to offer.
I watched as somewhere around fifty unmasked people consisting of Covid Karen’s and their entire families came pouring into the library like a group of disease infested rats scurrying off of the docks of Messina. But they weren’t satisfied to just fill the building and breath their germs all over everyone. The moment they approached the area set up for the board meeting to take place, the began instantly, and loudly showing their complete disregard for the precautions the library was trying to take. Many of them loudly announcing that they had no intention of social distancing as they began moving all the chairs that had been set up for them to ensure they were as close together as possible. I myself was forced to leave my seat when a woman scooted her own so close to me she may as well have been sitting in my lap and then further refused to allow me to move my chair away from her. I was in fact forced to stand through the entire two hour meeting because it was the only way to distance myself from the rowdy crowd intent of breathing directly down my neck.
Even without the concern of covid, I have been diagnosed with PTSD and I don’t like people getting too close to me. But this angry mob that would have looked more at place gathering outside of Frankenstein’s castle with torches and pitch forks, many of whom would go on to complain about how masks were violating their medical rights, showed no concern for my own medical rights...
As soon as the meeting began, the board opened the floor to take comments from the public and what proceeded was a literal dick swinging competition as every Karen in attendance took their turn giving prepared speeches that went through the list of every rumor, conspiracy theory, easily disproven fact, bit of misinformation with no basis, and argument of having their freedoms taken away that anyone has ever heard in argument against covid safety. Each one trying their best to top the person who spoke before them with the rest of the crowd erupting in loud cheers and applauds at the end of each speech in what can only be described as the largest circle jerk I have ever witnessed.
Many of them even forced their children, some of them too young to even understand what was going on, to stand up and talk in front of the board for sympathy points...
When the floor was finally closed to comments, and the board began going over the topics on the agenda, the ill mannered crowd continued to interrupt as if it was their own meeting and they were only allowing the board to sit in on it. They had to be told several times by the board that their time to speak was over and still they continued to interrupt and even attempt to intimidate the board.
And then, after a period of topics the foaming plague rats didn’t understand or have any interest in, the moment finally came to discuss the matter of covid precautions moving forward. And to my horror... the proposal was immediately made by a member of our sister library’s board to immediately put an end to all policy and precaution related to Covid-19. I wasn’t surprised by this... I’ve long known that the director of our sister library was a rabid Red Hat, foaming at the mouth herself, and had likewise surrounded herself with like-minded people. But that made the horror no less real as this dead eyed, unmasked man who looked as if his heart should have been beating under the floorboards of an Edgar Allan Poe story, stated that he would accept no exceptions or amendments to anything other than pretending covid had never happened.
This decrepit old vulture went so far as to prevent the rest of the board from making any further suggestions and forcing a vote on the matter, all while exchanging winks with the mob of plague rats from the one eye that still worked. And when the vote was forced it came down to a 50/50 split. Every member of my library’s board voting against the proposal, with every member of our sister library’s board voting in favor of it.
And with the vote ending in a tie, it fell to the board’s trustee to cast the tie breaking vote... A man who is so out of touch with the actual workings of the library, and has so little regard for the members of staff who keep the library running... that after knowing the man for eight years he still doesn’t know my name and continues to tell me what his name is and where his library card is located every time he checks out a book... (Yes... I know who you are... Yes, I know your card is in the box under staff... And no... my name is not Bill so stop calling me that... Bill quit six years ago...) A treatment every member of staff receives from the man I might add... (Just how many people named Bill does he think works there...?) A man who’s term limit on the board is up and this was to be his last board meeting, no less... So regardless what decision he made, he wouldn’t have to stick around to deal with the fallout of such a decision... And this was who the deciding vote was given to...
Naturally he voted in favor of the proposal and just like that I watched as every ounce of safety I had in my job was stripped away while the disease bearing pestilence in attendance all cheered like a group of rednecks who had just been told the south finally won the Civil War. (A war many of those in attendance no doubt still believe is going on if the flags flying from that backs of their pickup trucks are any indication.) No longer would masks or social distancing be required inside the building. In fact, it can’t even be suggested... Occupancy and time limits are no more. Hours of operation are to be restored to full time... A feat I am still confused as to how we are to manage considering we barely have enough staff members to keep the library open for seven hours a day and no takers on open job positions... For a moment it almost sounded as if my own right to wear personal protective equipment was to be taken away, although my own director has informed me she will not enforce that and I am free to continue wearing whatever I would like. Although her ability to allow this remains to be seen...
But there you have it. A library staffed primarily by immunocompromised employees had its right to protect the well-being of said employees taken away based on the decision of a completely different library in a different town, an ineffectual old man on his last day on the job, and a raving mob of entitled vermin using intimidation tactics and threats of lawsuits. (Because yes, they did threaten lawsuits...)
All that remains to be seen now is if I will even continue to have a job in the wake of this decision. Because the board who decided to strip us of the only feeling of security we had, is in fact the same board who has time and time again refused to pay us anything more than minimum wage while every other business around us is currently hiring at double what we are making. If our job is no longer any safer than any other job, what’s to keep us from leaving for someone who would pay more? I’ve worked there for eight years and I can go anywhere else and get twice what I make as a starting pay... I think it would be quite funny if all of the people who demanded we drop our safety precautions so they could enjoy the library in a way that was convenient for them suddenly came back the next day to find it closed entirely due to having no staff.
Oh and the incident report I was asked to attend the meeting was glossed over by the board who no longer had any interest in punishing people for breaking rules they had just decided to do away with. So the extra two hours taken out of my day were for nothing as well...
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My aunt drove me to the appointment and I was hesitant at first because she is...a stress factor in my life. I know for sure she doesn't mean to be and I'm sure she doesn't even realize she's doing it but it ain't easy talking to her. I feel like my entire family is prone to playing the victim.
Example. A few years ago my aunt planned out a vacation for all of us to go on. The majority of us didn't want to go. It started disastrously bad when my idiot brother wanted to take the long way which here in PR it means going through the middle of the island which meant taking roads that were curves over curves over curves. I get car/motion sickness. I said this aloud. My aunt and my mom have witnessed this first hand. Solution? I gotta drive to avoid throwing up. I didn't want to drive because I didn't know the directions, even then we got super lost, and I was on some medication that forced my p****d out and I didn't wanna go on this vacation but was forced to go (this is me as an adult btw 😐).
So what happened? We had to pull over so I could throw up on the side of the road. I was beyond pissed. The rest of the week went from bad to worse. My sister and her husband insisted that all they wanted to do was go to the beach. I don't like going to the beach, I don't like swimming, I don't like pools, I don't like getting wet. First time at the beach I was on the shore overheating and heavily bleeding and I looked miserable but yeah I'm soooo glad that bitch and her bitch husband had soooo much fun.
Following day they (sister and her husband) wanted to go to another beach. My mom spoke up and said I wouldn't be able to go into the water and didn't think it was fun to just sit at the shore all day. Someone finally remembered me 🙄
So C, who had had enough of the trip since the start had been super quiet and I got a little angry at him for not speaking up either. Turns out he was on the phone searching for interesting things to do in the area aside from going to the fucking beach. So he asked my aunt if he and I could borrow her car. She said okay and during the entire stay all they did was follow my idiot sister from one beach to another, that's ALL they did. Beach hopping.
Meanwhile C and I went to see some weird salt flats, we saw a fuck old lighthouse and befriended some cats, we went to a really old church with an amazingly beautiful garden full of flowers. On the third day we went out to a park and had ice cream. Loooots of ice cream. So all in all C managed to make that disaster better. When he and I got back to the apartment my sister was putting on a show about how C and I didn't wanna spend time with the family.
Dude, I went from 0 to 1 trillion in 1 second and I swear I was gonna lunge at her but C grabbed me basically by the scruff of the neck and held me back and quietly said, "If that's what you think that's a you problem." and we went to take a shower. Which btw only had two temperatures: third degree burn and lava coming out of Satan's butthole. You can imagine how great that felt in the middle of summer in the south side of PR.
Fourth day was an all out disaster cuz my idiot brother, who btw, first day there kicked me and C out cuz he wanted our room cuz it was the only one with ac and he needed it because his crack whore ass was detoxing from some meds. Was yelling and screaming about going to kill himself (read: he wanted something and no one was indulging him so he used the excuse to kill himself to manipulate my mom and aunt to get him what he wanted).
That day was a mess of people pointing fingers and mostly my sister shoving blame everywhere and basically calling out my aunt for making us all go on this vacation when no one else wanted to go.
Drive back was awkward as fuck all with my aunt crying and feeling bad and me and C on damage control. She was super mad that all they did was go to the beach and asked me and C about all we did so we did and tried to make her feel better because my sister told her she has a lot of flaws she needs to work on and now she all boo hoo. Sure, my sister coulda worded it better but I'm glad it happened.
My aunt is one of those "my way or the highway" type of people. She gets set on one thing and noooooothing will change her mind. She constantly hounds me about doing something "productive" with my art. I often just shrug and ignore her but this is constant. I don't sketch in front of her anymore because it's every single time. She also doesn't take social clues, she outright ignores them on purpose. If a subject makes someone uncomfortable she'll keep prying because in her eyes you're probably not working hard enough or doing your best.
On the way to the doctor she brought up art again. I outright told her I wasn't going to do it. I wanted to say not everything has to be about making money but I held on to that one. I told her it was hard to establish a network, that I would be competing with thousands and thousands of people and that it was hard.
All she got outta that was that everything is hard and I'd have to work hard to get out there and establish myself.
Bruh...I was stunned.
So I outright told her no. I don't want to. My art is for peace of mind and she dropped it but I just know she'll bring it up again.
Look. As a hobbyist my art is okay but me charging people for that??? Who the fuck would??? Pay for that???? Jfc.
So we moved on to yet another uncomfortable subject and she said I may have ptsd. Dude...no offense but ya ain't a doctor (thank fuck). So she told me I should check to see a psychologist because then I'd have the tools to handle things better. Fair. I have been thinking about that to see if maybe I can finally get an answer to several things or if maybe I'm making all this dumb shit up in my head. But that was about all the logical shit she said.
She even thinks people are actually not working because they wanna live off unemployment and don't wanna work.
My face went blank. I tried explaining to her that people are protesting unsafe work environments, slave labor/wages, shitty bosses and she heard all of that (granted maybe I could explained it better) and all she said was, "You gotta start somewhere and from there go up".
Then it struck me that of course she'd never understand. This woman NEVER had to work during her entire years of college or even her master's. She has NEVER worked a minimum wage job ever in her entire life. I wanna find articles on what is going on with that and send them to her. She's all of what I said and more but she can sooooometimes see reason. To be honest I'm angry and disappointed in her. She always seemed to adhere to more open minded concepts in terms of society, how differences in generations was good for all of us in general, who's taken to learning what she can about mental illnesses and trauma and so on. She still has much to learn about those last two, she still can't comprehand how me making phone calls scares the fuck outta me, but it's a start? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Idk I just needed to let all of that out. I love her, she's done a lot for me but she's also been a source of stress for me and I can't openly talk to her about anything because she's not easy to talk to. Sorry for the length.
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A Self-Made Millionaire's Path To Financial Independence.
“Money is the most important thing in the world.” It’s a startling and borderline heretical claim. After all, we’re told time and again that you can’t buy happiness.
Well, sure – you can’t spend your way to Earthly bliss. But here’s the flipside: poverty is pretty sure to make you miserable. Far from being the root of all evil, money is the most important tool we have to improve our quality of life.
If you want to look out for the people you love, you’ll need money – the more, the better. Want to spend more time with your kids? Ditto. How about creating time for leisure, reading, going to the theatre and discovering new cultures and countries through travel? You’ll have guessed the answer by now: money.
That’s the philosophy of Kristy Shen, a self-made millionaire who retired at 31. In this post, we’ll be exploring how she did it. Expect plenty of unashamedly contrarian takes, left-field strategies and novel concepts. More to the point, expect to find a roadmap to wealth creation, debt eradication and financial independence.
You’re more likely to make sound decisions if you follow the math rather than your passions.
In 2005, Steve Jobs gave a commencement speech at Stanford University. His advice to the students? “Follow your heart.” That feel-good mantra rippled around the world. Endorsed by the great and good, it soon came to feel commonsensical – why on Earth wouldn’t you follow your passions and do something you love? Here’s one reason: it’s often the wrong choice.
Take the often life-defining decision students make every year about what they’re going to study. That was just what Kristy was mulling over back in 2000. She had a shortlist of three possible majors – creative writing, accounting and computer engineering. Her heart told her to go with writing; math told her to go for engineering. Kristy followed the latter’s advice. It was a good call.
Let’s look at that math. A four-year program in Canada costs about $40,000. Professional writers fall on a spectrum between the unpublished newbie who earns zilch and established pros like Stephen King who earn millions. The average income, however, is $17,000. In 2000, the minimum wage was $6.85 an hour or $14,248 a year. That’s what anyone without a degree could expect to earn, so subtracting that sum from $17,000 told Kristy how much a writing degree was worth: a measly $2,752.
An accounting degree, by contrast, was worth around $24,000 more than the minimum wage. Computer engineering meanwhile netted you a whopping $40,000 more every year.
But hold up. You can’t put a price on happiness – surely dreams are worth pursuing whatever the bottom line says, right? Well, not necessarily. After all, if you don’t know where your next meal is coming from, you’re unlikely to wake up excited about your work, especially if it calls for creativity. Passions also change over time; a 2013 study published in Science found that the dreams of nearly all of the 19,000 participants had changed significantly over the previous decade.
And that’s why it pays to follow the math. Just ask Kristy. Today, she’s a professional writer. The reason she got there is simple: her well-paying engineering job meant she wasn’t reliant on writing to make the rent. Money, in other words, provided her with the foundation which eventually allowed her to pursue her true dream.
Kristy’s Chinese heritage taught her that debt is a trap to be avoided at all costs.
Did you know that on average Chinese citizens save 38 percent of their income? Americans, by contrast, squirrel away 3.9 percent of what they earn while the Japanese keep just 2.8 percent for a rainy day. So what’s going on – are the Chinese just inherently frugal?
Not really. Even before the communists came to power in 1949, corruption was endemic in China. Combine that with the absence of official credit channels like bank loans and you had the makings of a culture which ran on favors. When folks wanted to buy something big, they had a simple choice: take on an onerous personal debt and put themselves in someone else’s power, or save up until they had enough cash to buy it outright. That’s why, historically, debt in China is understood not so much as an “IOU” but an “I own you.”
If you’re Chinese like Kristy, that history means you’re basically programmed to avoid debt like the plague. But here’s the thing: when you crunch the numbers, it turns out that’s a pretty good attitude to adopt wherever you live.
Take the Rule of 72, an insight first formulated by a fifteenth-century Italian mathematician called Luca Pacioli. Here’s how it works. To work out how long it takes for your investment to double, divide 72 by the return rate of your investment. So let’s say you’re getting six percent on your $1,000 investment. Seventy-two divided by six equals 12. This last number is the number of years you’ll need in order for that grand to compound into $2,000. Over time, the balance increases. The money you make makes more money.
If you’re an investor, the Rule of 72 is your friend; if you’re a debtor, it’s your worst enemy. Say you buy a $1,000 TV on credit. Typically, the interest rate will be around 20 percent. Divide 72 by 20 and you get 3.6 – that’s how long it’ll take your debt to double! After seven years, it will have almost quadrupled.
When you put it like that, the Chinese custom of paying off personal debts during the New Year on pain of being cursed with 12 months of misfortune starts to make a lot of sense. But don’t worry – the idea here isn’t to scare you.
Consumer debt is a financial crisis which needs to be addressed immediately.
Debt is a blood-sucking vampire. It bleeds you dry. Worse, it leaves you terrified of the sunlight, trapping you indoors in an endless cycle of work and repayment. If you want financial independence, you’ll have to put a stake through this bad boy’s heart.
Consumer debt has the highest interest rates, so that’s where you should start. The first thing you’ll need to do is cut your expenses to the bone. It’s painful but essential. As we’ve seen, the Rule of 72 means your debts grow at an ungodly rate. If you’re saddled with a 10 or 20 percent interest rate, there’s no point trying to save or invest your hard-earned cash – there’s no getting in front of debt. Do whatever it takes, whether it’s finding a side hustle, renting out a spare room, or saying “no” to dinners out.
Next, you’ll need to prioritize how you repay your loans by putting them in order based on interest rate, from highest to lowest. When you’re surrounded by hungry vampires, it’s always a good idea to kill the one with the biggest appetite first. That means paying the minimum monthly repayment on all your cards to avoid defaulting and throwing everything that you don’t need for essentials like rent at the nastiest bloodsucker. Paying off your smallest loan might make you feel good, but you’re not trying to massage your ego here – you’re fighting for your freedom.
The final step is refinancing your loans. Lots of credit card companies allow you to transfer balances between different cards and pay zero percent interest for a certain amount of time. That’s usually a year. If you’re sure you can use these so-called “grace periods” to pay off a loan completely, use this option. Bear in mind, however, that these companies are gambling on you failing to do so, which will allow them to jack up the interest rate and screw you.
Remember, trying to gain financial independence while carrying around debt is like running a marathon with a backpack full of bricks – it’ll sap your strength before you’ve even run a mile. If you want to grow your assets, you need to kill that vampire!
If you want to buy happiness, spend your cash on experiences rather than stuff.
What does cocaine have to do with shopping? Surprisingly, quite a lot. Understanding that connection holds the key to getting the most out of the money you decide to spend on luxuries.
But before we get to that, let’s talk about the brain. When something good happens, the “pleasure chemical” dopamine surges through your mesolimbic pathway, essentially your brain’s main highway, to the nucleus accumbens – a kind of dopamine processing plant. A substance like cocaine triggers this surge – but so does splurging on a Gucci handbag. In both cases, the reward is a massive neural high.
Here’s where it gets interesting. As a 2006 article in the journal NeuroImage demonstrated, the nucleus accumbens doesn’t just react to positive stimuli – it also reacts to the expectation of those stimuli. In other words, pleasure isn’t just about absolute dopamine levels but how much dopamine our brains expect is on the way.
Unfortunately for cocaine addicts and shopaholics, the brain keeps ratcheting its expectation levels upwards. That’s why people need ever-larger amounts of cocaine and ever-more expensive handbags – they’re forever chasing that unrepeatable first high.
That means you’re not going to enjoy yourself even if you’re wealthy enough to fund your shopping habits. This might sound like the preamble to an old-fashioned moral lecture about how money can’t buy happiness, but it’s really not. Truth be told, it can. It just boils down to what you’re spending it on.
Not all spending is created equal; some kinds go further than others. When Kristy started her blog and began receiving emails from her readers, she noticed a trend. The more stuff people owned, the unhappier they were. Folks who owned less and used their money to buy experiences, by contrast, were pretty happy with their lot in life.
That’s because possessions give you an initial burst of dopamine which fades as your nucleus accumbens acclimatizes. The pleasure that comes with learning new skills or traveling doesn’t fade nearly as quickly. As long as you practice now and again, you’ll always be able to play the piano, and those holiday snaps from Rome will always take you back to that week you spent in the Eternal City with your husband.
Buying property isn’t the failsafe investment it’s made out to be.
Lots of folks are cautious about borrowing money, but they usually make one big exception: a mortgage. Conventional wisdom says buying a house isn’t just a rite of passage into adulthood but a wise investment in the future. After all, you can always sell at a profit, right?
Well, no. In reality, property comes with all sorts of hidden costs. Let’s talk numbers. According to the US Census Bureau, the average family stays in their home for 9 years. Typically, these families invest in brick and mortar in the expectation that property prices will rise. Historically, that rate rises and falls with inflation, but for simplicity’s sake, let’s assume here that prices increase by a steady 6 percent every year.
Our family – let’s call them the Smiths – buy their house for $500,000. Add 9 times 6 percent – 9 years at 6 percent inflation – to that and you get $844,739. That leaves a tidy profit of $344,739.
Not so fast. To buy the property, the Smiths need a title search from the land registry office. That’s $1,000. The title recording fee costs $150. The lawyer who processes those documents charges another grand.
Then there’s insurance. Rates vary across the US, but 0.5 per cent of the house’s value is pretty common. Paid annually for 9 years, that comes to $22,500. A property tax of 1 percent per annum adds another $45,000 to the bill. Meanwhile, realtors advise setting aside at least one percent of a home’s value every year for maintenance, which is what the Smiths do. That’s another $45,000.
Selling isn’t cheap either. A commission of 6 percent of the final sale price clocks in at $50,684. The land transfer tax is 1.2 percent, so that’s $10,137. Oh and there’s another lawyer, who also bills for $1,000.
That brings us to $175,571 – 51 percent of the Smiths’ profit. But we haven’t talked about interest yet. Like most families, the Smiths paid a ten percent down payment in cash and borrowed the rest from their bank. Over 9 years, they have paid $162,033 in interest.
That’s a whopping 98 percent of the sale price. And remember, we started by assuming that the value of the Smiths’ house would grow by 6 percent every year. That’s well above the actual inflation rate in the US, which is about 2 percent. In the real world, the Smiths would have lost money!
Use the “Rule of 150” to decide whether to buy a house or use your money for something else.
We crunched the numbers and saw that the cost of buying, owning and selling a house outweighed the returns in the case of a fictional American family. The moral of the story, however, isn’t that you should never buy a house – it’s that you need to work out if that’s a good call in your situation.
Ask a realtor and they’ll swear it’s all very simple. If the monthly mortgage payment equals the rent on a similar house or apartment, you’re better off buying rather than giving your money to a landlord. Look more closely, however, and you’ll find it’s a little more complicated.
That’s where the Rule of 150 comes in. This is a tool to help you compare the true cost of owning a home with what you would be saving by not renting. Here’s how it works:
Over the first 9 years of a standard 30-year mortgage, only about 50 percent of your payments go towards the actual loan; paying off interest on that loan accounts for the other 50 percent. Now, additional ownership costs like maintenance and insurance are roughly equal to the interest on a standard mortgage during those first 9 years, so that’s another 50 percent. So to calculate your actual monthly payments, you’ll need to multiply your monthly mortgage payment by 150 percent.
That’s how much your home will actually cost per month once you’ve accounted for all your expenses. So say you’re looking at a monthly mortgage bill of $1,500. When you multiply that by 150 percent, you get your true cost – $2,250. If your Rule of 150 monthly cost is higher than your rent, it makes sense to stick it out in the rental market; if it’s lower, you might want to think about buying.
When Kristy first considered buying a house, she was living in Toronto, Canada’s most expensive city. Prices were out of control and one-person apartments were going for a million dollars apiece. After applying the Rule of 150, she quickly realized that there was no way she was going to be able to buy her own home.
That opened an unexpected can of worms. If she wasn’t going to blow her savings on property, what was she going to do with that nest egg?
Index investing is less risky than betting on individual companies.
The American business guru Robert Kiyosaki once remarked that poor people buy stuff, the middle class buys houses and rich people buy investments. What he meant is that rich people put their money into things that make them more money. But you don’t have to be a multi-millionaire to follow their lead.
Broadly speaking, there are two ways of investing. The first is to do what Wall Street whizzes do – spend a ton of cash on research and fancy algorithms to pick the best companies. The second variant is cheaper, simpler and, most importantly, less risky.
That’s called index investing. Think of it as betting on the casino rather than individual horses. It doesn’t matter who wins the race – the house always makes money. Let’s unpack that.
An index is a list of companies ranked by market capitalization, or the overall value of their public shares. When you invest in an index, you’re effectively betting on every one of those listed firms. Because the index contains the stock of multiple high-performing companies, a single failure won’t wipe you out. The only way you can go bust is if every name on your index simultaneously files for bankruptcy.
That’s highly unlikely. Why? Well, index investing has an elegant built-in barometer. If a company is worth more, the index automatically picks up more shares in that company, and vice versa. If a tech giant releases a world-beating smartphone and its stock soars, the index buys more shares. If a car company runs into trouble and their stock plummets, the index dumps shares. And when a company drops in value from number 500 to number 501, it’s kicked off the index entirely.
This is a highly intuitive way of gauging the stock market as a whole, which is why major indexes like the S&P 500 – a list of the 500 biggest companies – work like this.
Index investing is also good for your wallet. The simplicity of the concept means there’s no need to pay for a hands-on fund manager. In the US, for example, a typical index fund charges fees of just 0.04 percent – 25 times lower than what you’d pay for an actively managed fund. The sales commission? $0. If you ever want to see your bank manager sweat, head to your local branch and ask to have your savings put into index funds!
Early retirement doesn’t depend on how much you make – it’s all about how much you save.
Chances are you’ve idly daydreamed about early retirement. Most folks quickly shelve that idea when they take a look at their bank balance, though. If you’re not raking it in, you just can’t afford to stop working before your mid-sixties, right?
Wrong. Your time to retirement doesn’t depend on how much you earn but how much you save. If you’re making and spending a million bucks a year, you’re entirely dependent on your job and won’t ever be able to retire. If you make $40,000 a year and spend $30,000, on the other hand, you already have a healthy savings rate of 25 percent.
The “normal” retirement age is 65 because most people save between five and ten percent of their salaries and have investment portfolios yielding an average of six to seven percent annually. Plug those numbers into a spreadsheet and you’re looking at 40 to 45 years of work.
The way to reduce that time is to up how much you’re saving. This does two things. Firstly, it cuts your living expenses, which in turn cuts the size of your target portfolio – the amount of cash you’ll need to retire. Secondly, it pumps more money into that portfolio. Think of it as a race: you’re moving the finish closer while also running faster. Even relatively small changes have a big impact. Boosting your savings rate from ten to 15 percent, for example, shaves 5 years off your working life!
Still not convinced? Well, okay, let’s take a look at the case of a fictional couple we’ll call Paul and Jillian. Together, their annual earnings come to $62,175. That’s the median family income in the US. Deduct 15.2 percent for taxes and you’re left with $52,724.40.
Now imagine Paul and Jillian decided to turbocharge their savings rate. They rent a small apartment in an affordable city, cook at home and use car-sharing services like Zipcar. All in all, they pay $40,000 to cover their costs and put $12,724.40 into their portfolio every year.
Let’s lowball the interest rate they’re getting on that and say it’s 6 percent. Even if they never get promotions or better-paying jobs, Paul and Jillian would have a million dollars in 30 years. If they started at 24, they could retire at 54 – 11 years ahead of schedule!
Reducing the size of your target portfolio makes early retirement more manageable.
How much do you need to save to retire early? That’s exactly what researchers asked in a landmark study published in the investment journal AAII in 1998.
They used stock market data to simulate what would happen to a group of fictional retirees who withdrew different percentages of their portfolios every year after retirement. Would “Alan,” for example, make it over the line or run out of cash if he withdrew 10 percent of his $500,000 nest egg every year?
Here’s the answer: Your portfolio is self-sustaining when your annual living expenses are no greater than 4 percent of its total value. Economists call that a safe withdrawal rate. This number allows you to determine the size of your target portfolio – simply multiply your annual expenses by 25. If you need $40,000 a year, you’re looking at a $1,000,000 portfolio.
That’s a lot of cash, right? Sure, but don’t let that put you off – there are also alternative strategies. Take partial financial independence. This gives you the benefits of financial independence, such as flexibility and having more free time, and it’s achievable with a smaller portfolio.
Say you earn the US median family income of $62,175 and need $40,000 a year to cover your living costs. If you shift to part-time work and earn $28,000 after tax, you’ll have an annual shortfall of $12,000 in your budget. Multiply that number by 25 and you have your new target portfolio – $300,000. Save that amount and you can enter semi-retirement!
Then there’s geographic arbitrage. This is the idea that you can earn income in a country with a strong currency like Germany or the US and retire in a country with a weaker currency like Mexico or Thailand. When Kristy and her husband Bryce visited Vietnam, for example, they realized that you can live a luxurious life there for around $1,130 a month.
If you’re earning the local average salary of $150 a month, that’s unaffordable; if you’re earning the average US monthly salary, however, it’s well within your reach. So what does your target portfolio look like now? Multiply $1,130 by 12, which gives you $13,560. Then multiply that by 25 and you have $339,000.
So there you have it – a ton of tricks to help launch your journey to financial independence. All you have to do now is ask yourself a simple question. What’s more important – accumulating expensive things or your freedom? Answer that honestly and your money decisions will become clear.
Getting a handle on your finances comes down to one basic principle: follow the math. That means ignoring feel-good advice like choosing to study a subject you love rather than one that will bring in a salary you can actually live on. It also means bucking social trends if they’re not right for you. Crunch the numbers and you might just discover that you’re better off investing your savings in the stock market rather than buying a house and saddling yourself with a lifetime of debt. Why? Well, if you’re growing your money while avoiding ruinous interest rates, you’re setting yourself up for financial independence. And that means you’re one step closer to the ultimate dream: early retirement.
Action plan: Make invisible waste visible.
Consumerism promises happiness but it’s usually little more than a temporary fix. What it does generate is waste. A lot of waste. Take clothing. According to the Guardian, Americans throw away 11 million tons of clothes every year. So here’s how to eliminate waste in your own wardrobe: make it visible. Simply push all the clothes in your closet to the left, and place an empty hanger with a piece of masking tape in the middle. Everything you wear from now on goes on the right of the marked hanger after it’s been washed. Over time, this reveals how often you use different items. On the right, are the superstars of your wardrobe; in the middle, pieces you do wear but infrequently; and on the left, clothes you never take out at all – the waste.
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A little background... I am 27 years old. I have a 9 year old. I have been with his father since I was 12 years old, I have never “dated” anyone else. I have seen others, but never been in a relationship with anyone else. in January 2019 my little brother (we were 4 years apart and very lose) was left for dead by police after he got in a car wreck and had a head injury. He had a pulse for 30 minutes yet was never taken to the hospital, that was 10 minutes away. A week later some rich yuppie blew their entire head off with a shotgun, 80 miles away from the hospital, had no pulse, but was air lifted to the hospital. I strongly feel my brother was left for dead due to the fact he had unpaid fines. Mostly due to no car insurance or “driving while suspended” over no car insurance. But I know only blacks matter in this country, not some mutt who is half native american half white. That has been made ABUNDUNTLY CLEAR.
If you are one of those stupid cunts with the “driving is a privilege” bullshit mindset, (driving to work should not be a privilege should be a basic human right and “ride the bus” only big cities have busses and many people have to commute to larger cities in Oregon) when basic liability insurance is about $300 a month for people who are never on mommy and daddys insurance, please kindly fuck off. Housing in Oregon is insane, already, most people have half or more of their money going to rent if they can manage to get somewhere to rent to them at all, they should not have to have another 1/4th or more of their income going to basic liability insurance when they have never even had a ticket. I went through the same shit. Eventually police would just wait in the parking lot for me to leave work and just ticket me over and over, I was denied a hardship permit that is also such a scam. Pay a bunch of money for something you aren’t even guaranteed to get. I drove 1000 miles a week just to get to work, because I could not find work in the rural area I live in not could I afford the $1500 a month rent in the city that has jobs (that’s basically how much I made a month) it is what is is. I had no choice.
Paying for car insurance crippled me financially. I was actually split up with his father at that time but had to come crawling back begging for money due to my $300 basic liability insurance. The tickets are not even on my record anymore, for driving with no insurance and driving while suspended but its still $260 a month. Absolutely sickening. I don’t have a fucking dime left over after i pay bills, and my boyfriend works and we STILL have no fucking money. Ever. We don’t get to go on vacations, we live in the shittiest neighborhood in the entire county, in a shit trailer, drive shitty cars, I assure you we have nothing nice. Nicest thing he had is probably his work boots which were paid for by his boss, working your ass off in Oregon does not pay off. “Get a better job” no shit sherlock, did it ever occur to you its difficult to not get fired from your job you are currently working, and still go to interviews? Employers be like “I know you have a job currently but can you drop everything and come in an hour?” Oh yeah, totally. And if you try and schedule it for a time maybe you won’t get fired its usually “Nevermind.” And the interview process is a begging a groveling process like you’re a god damn peasant. Why do I want this job? MONEY! Why else! Why does anyone want any job? I worked at a staffing agency for 4 years and I can not tell you how many people did well at those stupid cookie cutter questions but were shit workers. I wish places would just let you work a day or two and see.
Then I got laid off as soon as stupid corona hit in March, they already fired my office manager and a sales person “over discounted bill rates”. Kinda like how the Dollar Tree stays in business because its cheap but more volume is sold (worked there before too that was horrible) so they have just as much profit if not more, as say Walgreens or something. With corporate clowns coming down and saying to clients basically pay the full rate or we are taking you to court, to 3/4 of the clients, sales tanked. They tried to blame corona but the sales were complete shit before that as soon as they fired the two people who had most of the sales, with discounted bill rates. I am still friends with someone who managed to not get fired. They said in a conference call this week they announced they would be lowering bill rates. *Face palm* now that you fired hundreds of people, you are lowering bill rates. How many lives did you ruin before coming to your senses? Companies here are just so fucking awful!
A few years ago I decided I wanted to move out of the country. However if you have a child, both parents have to sign a passport form unless you don’t have the father listed on the birth certificate. Norway in particular I like, its beautiful, free healthcare, minimum wage twice that of Oregon with cheaper rent and free healthcare, they also help with childcare. They claim they do in Oregon but your “copay” is usually so high you might as well just pay out of pocket and not deal with all the states controlling bullshit you have to deal with when you get state assistance. People like to say “Norway has higher taxes” please shut up and go look at Oregon’s income tax rate. One of the highest in the country. Expensive gas, INSANE housing, its just not possible to have a decent life here in Oregon. I love the ocean also. Norway is beautiful and comes in the top countries for quality of life every year, meanwhile USA is at the very bottom.
Everyone called me paranoid all those years, I just had a bad feeling that something bad was going to happen also and I needed to get out while I still could. Next remark “how can you afford to get there if you are so broke?” Simple don’t pay my outrageous rent and insurance for 1 month problem solved. My child’s father finally agreed to sign the passport form now that its too late and Americans are banned from basically every country in the world, once the racism and virus bullshit started. Super awesome. He will never hear the end of that from me. Its been months and I still do not even have the passport. Even if I did I AM TRAPPED HERE!!!!!!!!!! I can not even go to fucking Canada!
I decided ok, I will try and move to Montana/Idaho/North Dakota or something. Give up my ocean in attempts to get the hell away from all this mask and the non existent “racism” bullshit. Go somewhere with a lower cost of living, more jobs with higher wages. I absolutely can not stand wearing the face masks. There is no evidence they work, just go look at Sweden. Or the states I just named which have no mask laws. Also a lot of rural areas in Oregon do not wear them seems like the entire populations would have been sick or dead. I am not looking to argue with scared little sheep over this. Before you say “I hope your grandparents die” because I don’t wear them, something that I have seen many people say to myself and anyone else without a mask, my grandparents have said many times they would rather be dead than be completely isolated over some bullshit virus with a higher survival rate than the flu. Plus the media has lied so much, how can you believe a word they say? Seriously? They are all left winged biased. I am not even a conservative and I can see it. But people just eat the shit up. That 26 year old who they claimed died in Oregon from coronavirus, turns out did not even have the virus the CDC medical examiner said. So you choose for yourself what to believe.
I did get a job in Montana very easily. In six fucking months in Oregon I had maybe 5 phone calls for a job, all minimum wage no benefit shit jobs. I did 2 years of business and law classes, 4 years of heavy payroll and accounting for work so its not like I have absolutely no experience in anything worth a fuck. Plus 8 years total of customer service or more I have been working since I was 18 with gaps here and there between jobs. But with my boyfriend and son back in Oregon, 900 miles away, it was really difficult. I had never been alone like that or even stayed a night away from my child. Never in 9 years. First of all staying in some shitty hotel... I hate hotels in general I like my little nest, as shitty as my house may be, even at a nice hotel I would rather sleep in my own shitty bed. I lasted 2 weeks, only having $100 week leftover for food and other bills spending $400 a week at the cheapest motel I could find, before I gave up. I could not save money for a deposit or loan and my boyfriend has absolutely no credit so he could not get approved for a loan or rental either. He also had absolutely no one to watch our child back in Oregon with everything being closed so he could not work during that time and almost lost the job he had. Done landscaping for 11 years and still only makes $2 above minimum wage because companies treat employees like such shit in Oregon. I was so close, had a decent pay (way more than I ever made in Oregon even though Montana has a lower minimum wage) with benefits, but it was impossible to move into a rental. My credit is good enough for a loan, but I could not save money for a down payment staying in a hotel. Plus I was so lonely and miserable. Now winter is coming and we will not be able to go back and forth in that snow in little cars anyways.
If we would have succeeded, I would have gotten us into a rental and then quit as soon as he got a job because we never have anyone to watch our child and the cost of living is so much lower we would not HAVE to both work like we do here in Oregon. Especially now. Seriously, what the fuck do they expect people with kids to do? Schools are closed and even if they weren’t there is no way in hell I would send my kid wearing a mask all day. SO bad for you! They have to wear them all day “except at lunch” ok so might as well just take the damn things off the entire day. These rules don’t even make sense how do people not see that? Or in a restaurant you have to wear them if you walk to the bathroom but not at the table what logic is that? How do people not see through this bullshit? And children are gross they touch everything masks are going to do shit at schools. Notice the schools that did open, masks or no masks still had a shitload of cases. Single parents are especially screwed in particular. I guess if you could somehow both find employers willing to work with your schedule (good luck with that) you could constantly work opposite shifts as your partner/spouse and never seen them and work.
Anyways, jobs for him paid more up there too, rent is fucking half of what it is in Oregon. Their average rent is the price of “low income housing” in Oregon. But we just could not do it. I tried. I tried so hard. I even learned Norwegian jeg snakker norsk und ich spreche auch Deutsch because Austria was another country I was interested in. You can try and try and try here, but unless you get lucky, or your parents help you, I do not know how people do it. All the old people I know here don’t have enough money to live off either after working 50 years. Its so sad.
I am no perfect person either. I am pretty bitchy, I have horrible anxiety I quit public school at age 12 and finished online, yes I have a high school diploma. I actually did all my high school schooling in 2 years after skipping 3 years of school with no problem. I never even really went to middle school and still managed. I am not stupid. I just have a hard time doing things I am absolutely miserable doing.
I will go into more detail, year by year on what a shitshow it is to live in the USA but in particular Oregon. The entire west Coast really. I hate it here and I just want out but I have tried everything.
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After minimum wage hikes and ammunition taxes, the lesson is don’t be like Seattle
Photo source: Pixabay, HypnoArt, CC0 Public Domain, https://pixabay.com/en/fail-lose-failing-failure-business-1714367/
On June 2, 2014 Seattle’s city council approved a raise in the minimum wage to a highest in the nation $15 an hour. Not one member of the council voted against it. Like most liberal progressives, the Seattle city council believed they could regulate prosperity. The law did not have the intended consequences.
The National Bureau of Economic Research (NBER), a private, non-profit, non-partisan organization conducting economic research, published a paper, on June 26, about the impact of the increase in the minimum wage on Seattle. The working paper is called “Minimum Wage Increases, Wages, and Low-Wage Employment: Evidence from Seattle.”, and was put together by a team from the Daniel J. Evans School of Public Policy and Governance of the University of Washington.
The report analyzes of data from the second quarter of 2014, right before the law was passed, and the second quarter of 2016. The data shows a reduction of 39 percent in jobs that pay less than $13, as to be expected. However, the data also showed a decline in jobs, 4,528, that pay under $19. This is where the jobs were the loss in jobs under $13 was supposed to go.
The bad news didn’t stop there. Over the same two-year period, the data showed a significant reduction in the amount of hours worked. People making under $13 showed a decline of 5.8 million hours in reduction, while people making under $19 lost 1.7 million hours of work. Once again, there was supposed to be a decrease in hours of people making less than $13 with an increase in people making less than $19. Just as the number of jobs decreased, the hours worked by those that held onto their jobs decreased.
Overall, this was a disaster for the working class in Seattle. Yes, people got raises, but thousands lost their jobs, and those that could keep their jobs, saw their hours decreased. For someone working for an hourly wage, it’s simple math, work more hours, make more money. It is estimated the race to make $15 the minimum wage in Seattle cost low-wage earners an average of $1,500 per year. The increase in pay, did not make up for the reduction in hours. I don’t remember “work less, get paid less” being a slogan of the $15 movement.
The federal government should use the Seattle model as a warning. According to the U.S. Census data there are approximately 84 million jobs that make under $40,000. If Seattle’s experience is any indicator of how a national minimum wage hike up to $13 an hour would work out, the cost could be a loss of 1.2 million jobs making less than $40,000 a year, without being moved to a higher wage.
In another winner from the Seattle City Council, a “violence” tax went into effect on January 1, 2016. The measure placed a $25 tax on firearms sold in the city, and up to 5 cents per round. The city tried to hide the attempted denial of Second Amendment rights, by saying the tax would be a revenue raiser with the proceeds going towards violence research. It was expected to raise between $300,000 and $500,000 per year. Let’s just say, it didn’t quite work out the way they planned.
The measure failed spectacularly in two ways. First the measure failed to raise the expected funds. Seattle has yet to release how much was raised last year, probably because it is ashamed to mention the number. What we do know, is that it is less than $200,000. That is at least 33 percent less than the minimum expected revenue. And what revenue has been collected, has not been spent on the promised research. There is a lawsuit challenging the tax, and the city will not spend the money until the suit is resolved. The city went forward with the research spending and spent $275,000 on the research. So, the “violence tax” has so far cost taxpayer over a quarter of a million dollars, and if the lawsuit goes against the city, they will never see the money.
What about the violence the tax was supposed to mitigate? Once again, Seattle failed miserably. Comparing the first five months before the tax was initiated with the first five months of this year, you get startling statistics. Rapes have gone up by 56 percent. Aggravated assault has gone up by 18 percent. Homicide and robbery have stayed the same. The Seattle violence tax did nothing to discourage violence. Will they ever learn?
Two laws passed had the exact opposite affect the laws intended. When it comes to the progressive left, no matter how much evidence presented of a failed policy, nothing changes.
Seattle now stands as a message to other cities across the U.S. The city enacted laws that tax citizens who want to defend themselves, or ended up getting them fired all together. Don’t be like Seattle.
This is a guest post by Printus LeBlanc a contributing reporter at Americans for Limited Government.
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After minimum wage hikes and ammunition taxes, the lesson is don’t be like Seattle
Photo source: Pixabay, HypnoArt, CC0 Public Domain, https://pixabay.com/en/fail-lose-failing-failure-business-1714367/
On June 2, 2014 Seattle’s city council approved a raise in the minimum wage to a highest in the nation $15 an hour. Not one member of the council voted against it. Like most liberal progressives, the Seattle city council believed they could regulate prosperity. The law did not have the intended consequences.
The National Bureau of Economic Research (NBER), a private, non-profit, non-partisan organization conducting economic research, published a paper, on June 26, about the impact of the increase in the minimum wage on Seattle. The working paper is called “Minimum Wage Increases, Wages, and Low-Wage Employment: Evidence from Seattle.”, and was put together by a team from the Daniel J. Evans School of Public Policy and Governance of the University of Washington.
The report analyzes of data from the second quarter of 2014, right before the law was passed, and the second quarter of 2016. The data shows a reduction of 39 percent in jobs that pay less than $13, as to be expected. However, the data also showed a decline in jobs, 4,528, that pay under $19. This is where the jobs were the loss in jobs under $13 was supposed to go.
The bad news didn’t stop there. Over the same two-year period, the data showed a significant reduction in the amount of hours worked. People making under $13 showed a decline of 5.8 million hours in reduction, while people making under $19 lost 1.7 million hours of work. Once again, there was supposed to be a decrease in hours of people making less than $13 with an increase in people making less than $19. Just as the number of jobs decreased, the hours worked by those that held onto their jobs decreased.
Overall, this was a disaster for the working class in Seattle. Yes, people got raises, but thousands lost their jobs, and those that could keep their jobs, saw their hours decreased. For someone working for an hourly wage, it’s simple math, work more hours, make more money. It is estimated the race to make $15 the minimum wage in Seattle cost low-wage earners an average of $1,500 per year. The increase in pay, did not make up for the reduction in hours. I don’t remember “work less, get paid less” being a slogan of the $15 movement.
The federal government should use the Seattle model as a warning. According to the U.S. Census data there are approximately 84 million jobs that make under $40,000. If Seattle’s experience is any indicator of how a national minimum wage hike up to $13 an hour would work out, the cost could be a loss of 1.2 million jobs making less than $40,000 a year, without being moved to a higher wage.
In another winner from the Seattle City Council, a “violence” tax went into effect on January 1, 2016. The measure placed a $25 tax on firearms sold in the city, and up to 5 cents per round. The city tried to hide the attempted denial of Second Amendment rights, by saying the tax would be a revenue raiser with the proceeds going towards violence research. It was expected to raise between $300,000 and $500,000 per year. Let’s just say, it didn’t quite work out the way they planned.
The measure failed spectacularly in two ways. First the measure failed to raise the expected funds. Seattle has yet to release how much was raised last year, probably because it is ashamed to mention the number. What we do know, is that it is less than $200,000. That is at least 33 percent less than the minimum expected revenue. And what revenue has been collected, has not been spent on the promised research. There is a lawsuit challenging the tax, and the city will not spend the money until the suit is resolved. The city went forward with the research spending and spent $275,000 on the research. So, the “violence tax” has so far cost taxpayer over a quarter of a million dollars, and if the lawsuit goes against the city, they will never see the money.
What about the violence the tax was supposed to mitigate? Once again, Seattle failed miserably. Comparing the first five months before the tax was initiated with the first five months of this year, you get startling statistics. Rapes have gone up by 56 percent. Aggravated assault has gone up by 18 percent. Homicide and robbery have stayed the same. The Seattle violence tax did nothing to discourage violence. Will they ever learn?
Two laws passed had the exact opposite affect the laws intended. When it comes to the progressive left, no matter how much evidence presented of a failed policy, nothing changes.
Seattle now stands as a message to other cities across the U.S. The city enacted laws that tax citizens who want to defend themselves, or ended up getting them fired all together. Don’t be like Seattle.
This is a guest post by Printus LeBlanc a contributing reporter at Americans for Limited Government.
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it’s been 2 years of existencial crysis
I want to talk to you and know what you think about me.
I couldn’t complete it and it makes me feel sad.
I’m ashamed of that.
I can’t feel happy for others anymore.
I’m doing my best but it’s really tiring.
I want to do so many things but I feel that chainging my rutine will make me miserable.
I’m already miserable.
will I ever go there again?
even if I did, I wouldn’t have anyone to talk to.
I’m too ashamed to try to talk to the people I met when I was there.
I hate my country.
I hate my language.
I hate my family.
I don’t like my friends anymore even though they really care about me, I don’t hate them but I’ve become so picky that even the slightest thing bothers me.
I listen to emo music and think about killing myself all the time but I’m not brave enough to do it and I don’t really want to anyway.
I need someone to save me but nobody really has to.
when I think about that time I feel happy, sad and ashamed also because I couldn’t really “connect” as I wanted to.
I envy people with good strong close relationships, I don’t wish them any bad, I just would like to have the same.
all of my relationships are really close but in a different way, pretty much everybody I know knows that I’m depressed and I hate my life.
I’ve thought about working for two years and invest in real estate but I’m scared of it taking too long.
probably none of my dreams have come true.
I’ve thought a lot about opening a youtube channel and just talking about the things I like even if nobody watches it, like this blog it’d be to pass the time but I can’t finish any script, I want to do something that I’d enjoy myself and I’d love to speak in english but sometimes my accent becomes stronger and I feel bad about it, I know that many people like them or just don’t care but I do and as many people would say “that’s what matters”
im probably just a disgusting human being.
I feel disgusted by my father.
I feel disgusted by the way people talk in this place.
I feel disgusted by the way they think they are doing something worthy when in reality what they’re doing could hardly be called that.
I hate critics, I don’t want to accept them, I want to be told stuff nicely and I know that that’s probably immature but I simply can’t stand them (though I happily accept suggestions)
I think I’m a snob but I don’t want to be that.
my mindset can change really quick so right now I may say that I’m bloody disgusted by critics but I may want some in the future and I guess that it makes me a little inconsistent though if you were in my head you’d know that it’s not really THAT inconsistent.
many people in real life think of me as rich or wealthy and to this country I am?
I don’t know, I think that I’m just not as stupid as them and spend my money properly, pretty much any one of them should be wealthier than me but they’re all too stupid to realize that.
none of this really matters, in 200 years I’ll most likely be dead and this will be lost on the internet.
sometimes I like to think about bad moments or stuff that made me misserable to fill the void with misery, I think that being happy here would be betraying myself.
even if it makes me miserable a long time ago I decided that I’d never betray myself and that I’d never be a hypocrite, if something is wrong then it’s wrong and even if it’s easier or more convinient I’ll just avoid it and do it the way I think of as the right one.
I like fancy talking but I probably suck at it, I wish I could meet someone that I could talk to like that and do references and stuff.
sometimes I feel that I connect with some anime characters just because they were in a similar situation to mine, I’ve felt my mindset is really similar to izaya orihara’s but I wouldn’t poison anyone or trick them in such ways it’s just that the way he speaks is really similar to the way I speak in real life and the way he thinks is also really similar to mine somehow.
I’ve also felt related to chitose from girlish number since we’re also really similar in some ways, we both want to achive greatness without making a real effort or getting our hands dirty.
I wonder a lot and most of the times I get an idea and then shut myself up, for example I was thinking about what would happen if someone tried to guide me in real life but then I remembered that everybody is fucked and if that person could do it then it means that I’m most likely able to do it to hence that person can’t be so far way from me.
I don’t love myself but I don’t really hate me, I usually don’t think about myself it’s something like “i’d like this to happen or I hate that person or I don’t do that” but... well I probably think of myself as just a person?
I’m incomplete and I know that if everybody was like me society would be fucked (wich sounded funny on my mind) but I don’t think that I’m a bad person.
I wish I was more handsome or something.
I’m too awkward and I’d also love to be able to walk to a new place without trembling, sometimes I can but for some reason it mostly happens when I’m alone, if I’m with someoine else that person goes in front of me and asks for the stuff for me and if there is a questiont hen I may tell them what to do or just directly answer to that person.
the air of this city is so poluted I don’t want to breath but if I don’t I’ll die and it hurts so I have to do it but still, that’s something that goes through my mind all of the time.
I do my best to never flaunt about anything but maybe I’m too quick to talk, once a friend of a friend saw something of mine and told me wow you have that thing, to which I replied it’s not as great as you may think.
my life without it would be WAY worse but still I think that there is room for improvement.
I believe that if something is not of your liking you should complain or try to change it yourself as long as it makes sense and it’s not bothering anyone.
it seems like my grandfather doesn’t believe in that but I think that if nobody complained technology and pretty much everything would take even longer to improve.
the best part of my day is probably when I see that someone uploaded a video or an anime just came out, if I start one I do my best to finish them even though sometimes they’re terrible.
last season I didn’t watch the last episode of 3-4 animes just because I wasn’t feeling like it and I thought that those animes are not really alright.
I wouldn’t really want to move to japan, I think that I’d probably say yes if the opportunity comes by but I know that life there is “terrible” for different reasons.
I feel sick of people saying that they know what other people are thinking like for example this country thinks about this or that topic or I know you’ll love thisI know that I talk a lot about how people from my country and also this part of the continent act but I’ve met them myself and I can tell, they’ve just talked a little bit to some, for example there’s an image that says something like “the japanese say that if nobody has done it before I have to be the first to do it”. it may sound inspiring but to me it sounds really stupid, if I haven’t talked to anyone (something that happens some days) this phrase becomes the stupidiest thing I’ve read on that day. I understand that just because nobody has done it it doesn’t have to mean that such thing is impossible but seriously they have to stop exaggerating, if you’re not interested you’re not fucking interested, I won’t do something that nobody else has done before NOT BECAUSE I CAN’T BUT BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO.
I once saw something like “the minimum wage there is -----” and well. it also bothered me, it’s higher yes but it’s not 40 times our wage.
I just said our but I don’t like to think of myself as someone from this country, I know that most of my ancestors immigrated from other parts of the world and I wouldn’t say that I necessarily hold pride to it (I have no real pride) but it helps me to distantiate myself from the others. I don’t talk like them and I’ve been told many times that I don’t look like them. in fact sometimes I’m asked where am I from but I wouldn’t really say that there is a clear answer for that, I’ve been told that I look like I’m from western europe or from another country in the continent I live in which would mean that yea I look different but not THAT different, a friend of mine told me that I look like I’m from a neighboring country (which is on bad terms with this one and many people could think of that as an insult BUT IDGAF) but their ethnicy is different so that’s also a thing. I don’t want to be looked as racist, I don’t want to be racist or anything, I want everyone to be happy and to be able to feel free and be... well... the word might be apreciated or just not discriminated, I can tell that I don’t do that I just don’t like being told that I’m like most people since I don’t like them. I wouldn’t turn my back on someone just because he or she has a different skin color, I’m not even that white though it’s still white enough for people here to think of me as such.
(in fact I’ve been told by some white people that I’m not white or that I’m “a mix?” idk how tho say it in this language since it’s not my mothertounge though it’s the thing I hold the most pride to though I’de love to keep on improving)
once I was in a concert with 2 friends and somebody asked me where I was from and one of my friends told him that I didn’t go out that much LOL it probably was the funniest and meanest thing I had heard in this year though it didn’t bother me.
sometimes I wish I could just have first world problems, most of them are somewhat stupid though (of course that is my opinion)
I believe in gender equality which is something that not many people do in this country, not only that but women themselves don’t believe in that and I’d say that even though that limits them it also gives them some sort of “power” because “if you argue with one you’re a bad person and if you hit one you’re the most evil guy in the universe” so if one of them hit you or insult you you take it and do nothing about it (which I was never willing to do)
it’s not like I wanted to insult everyone and hit them, “bothering” someone for no reason is the opposite of what I want to do but I’d love to be able to defend myself though I’d like to not need that either.
I just read the tittle again so I guess that I’m gonna keep explaining myself.
I’m too afraid to say your name and when I think too much about it I sort of want to cry, I could say that I feel in love with you but not in a sexual way, you probably became my best friend (which is pathetic since we didn’t see each other for more than 4 months) I thought that you understood me and I know that I wasn’t a “perfect human being” in fact I think that I’m doing something about it by explaining myself here, when i post something here I usually give some context on the hashtag section, I guess I could wish that I was more like you and less like me.
I could say that I admire you if I had to say that I admire someone but you’re just a normal person who happened to be really nice to me and that I felt connected to.
I wonder if you think about me. once a day? once a month? once a year?
I do think about you all the time, about what would you do if I ever saw you again.
I oppened myself too soon to you and I’m scared of what you might do with that information, if you were to find this blog I’d feel really ashamed and scared of what you may say, I don’t want to erase it.
....... I don’t want to see you here. leave and never come back.... I’d be afraid of that.
how have you been? would you like to talk or something?.... that’d be great.
I won’t contact you because I know that you don’t want to talk to me anymore, you made it very clear but I’m.
I began to think about something else and lost what I was thinking about.
I don’t want to look like my father, I can’t stare at him without feeling disgusted.
not everyone does that, he can go around without problems, it’s not that he is utterly ugly or something but I don’t like the way he looks or dresses and I don’t want to be like that at all.
I want to grow taller and I know that I still can, I think that 10cm is probably too much but I would like to grow that much, i’m already “tall” or ok for this country’s standars but that’s not my goal.
I don’t like staring or looking at people in the street, I usually look somewhere else, a friend of mine once told me that he thought that I had probably thought that he was a robber (he said that as a joke, that’s the kind of person he is) but what really happened was that I hadn’t recognized him from far away so I didn’t want to look at him, I was looking at the floor to not have contact with some random person on the street, I guess that I’m afraid of someone yelling or insulting me and trying to rob me in the streets but that’s what I’ve been thought and it’s something difficult to change since most of what’s is in the news is “this person was robbed and killed” or something like that.
the tittle was probably great for when I started but now it’s simply not enough, I’d change it to something like talking abouy my personal issues or sumarising my problems but it probably wouldn’t fit all of the text.
I’d say that I’d love to keep expanding this post but right now at this exact point in time I;m out of ideas and expanding it is not something that i’d necessarily love but rather “enjoy”? it made me feel many things and even if nobody really reads this, it makes me comfortable and scared.
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One of those serendipitous moments happened recently as I wiped down a new old sofa and otherwise puttered in the apartment that overlooks the courtyard.
In order to not lose my mind–actually to lose myself inside my mind–while doing uninteresting or unpleasant tasks, I listen to podcasts. No amount of mindfulness is going to make me all zen about mopping the floor or sorting laundry or running (or sewing!). I want to get the job done with minimal pain, and the best analgesic is one that makes me think about something else, the more esoteric, the better. Sometimes I do not want to focus on what I am doing. At all.
The first to entertain me was Lauren Bastide, with the most wonderful, we’re-there-in-the-room conversation with Amandine Gay (“La Poudre“). I was riveted by pieces about the new movie “Tower” and the decline of Lancaster, Pennsylvania (both on “Fresh Air,” which has the greatest interviewer ever, Terry Gross). I discovered Lady Lamb (thanks to “On Point”). People talked about medical mysteries (TED Radio Hour). But then I had no more podcasts left in my feed.
So I switched to the NPR One app, which is like a slot machine for podcasts, except that you never lose. They themselves call it Pandora for public radio–more PG-rated than a slot machine. First I got the founders of Kate Spade talking about how they got started (on “How I Built This“)–a logical progression because both Ted Radio Hour and How I Built This are hosted by Guy Raz, who has the most unbelievable name ever. Then the app decided I needed to hear a show I was unfamiliar with, called “Stuff You Missed in History Class.” WTF? HOW DID THEY KNOW????
I was mostly an A+ student, but I have no idea how I pulled it off in history (my only non-A’s were in gym class–C. “She never makes trouble” was the only nice thing the gym teacher found to say about me, year after year. Yes, I saw my old report cards not long ago). Those dates…they just wouldn’t adhere to my brain cells, even though I am a math lover and have no trouble memorizing zip codes and country dialing codes. However, it didn’t work with history. And it’s too bad, because I have come to love history, though I still don’t remember the dates. I treat dates in history the way I treat recipes–approximations are good enough. Freudian analysis would probably figure it out, but that would take too much time and effort. And anyway, all I really care about are the stories.
The history podcast was about another momentous women’s march–on Versailles! And there I was, on my knees, rubbing an ammonia solution into a Louis XVI sofa to strip it of all traces of its very charming former owner. Louis XVI! The one getting marched on in that very podcast!
An aside here to discuss the fine lady who was getting rid of her sofa. She was suffering from back pain and was going for an operation any day now, though that didn’t stop her from grabbing the coffee table and rolling up the carpet in front of the sofa–the Carnivore and I were going nuts trying to stop her but she was as quick as butter on a hot skillet. She stood about to my shoulder, which, considering I’m short, is nothing. I bet she didn’t weigh 40 kilos. A wisp of a woman.
As the Carnivore manipulated our neighbor’s camionette (a kind of enclosed pickup that’s very common in France) into her driveway, I chatted with Madame about life. The conversation quickly turned to death. She explained that she was keeping one of the armchairs that matched the sofa because it had been her mother’s, who had lived with her before dying. She then segued to her husband, who died suddenly, in his sleep, not long ago (which might have been a few years, I wasn’t sure). Trying to comfort her, I told her that my parents had died recently, relatively quickly, and in light of what I’d seen, I think the quicker the better. I am not alone in this. When I was leaving my post as a teacher in Africa, my students collected messages for me, and one sweet student wished me “a happy family, a happy life and a quick death!”
Madame grasped my arm and said, “Chut!” (Shush!) But then she went on anyway, and we talked about how a slow death does prepare the survivors for the idea that the loved one would be no longer, while a quick death is probably nicer for the person dying but a shock for the family.
This lady was selling some things in her finely furnished (“j’étais décoratrice!”) little house in order to move in with or near to her daughter, who had married an Italian and had followed him to Milan (she contorted her small, thin face at this, as if she had bitten into a spoiled fruit). First an operation on her back in France, then a new life in Italy. I felt sorry for her, abandoning all the stuff that reminded her of happier times–for some people, stuff is an end unto itself, a way to achieve some kind of status, but for others it is a totem of people or memories of happy times, and, though I knew her but for less than an hour, I think that, even if years ago she was in the former category, she now was in the latter). Plus, the weather in Milan is pretty crappy, compared with Aude.
Back to the furniture. The sofa is, obviously, a reproduction of Louis XVI. He’s better known as the husband of Marie Antoinette. I say “obviously” because it’s a sofa-bed, a technology that came somewhat later than the late 1700s. Madame said she bought it in Revel, which is a hub for marquetry and fine furniture making. Considering how heavy it is, I believe her.
Louis XVI came after 15 other Louis (Louises?), the first of whom appeared in 814 A.D. The first Louis had a tough act to follow: Charlemagne. There were LOTS of other kings before the first Louis (who was known as both “the pious” AND “the debonaire”!!!!! How did he manage that?), but they had names like Chilperic and Childeric and Chlothar and Dagobert. (You should know that in some places–like Belgium–a dagobert is not unlike a Dagwood sandwich, giving the mitraillet a run for the money.)
The later Louis (Louises?) became known for their interior décors. We won’t spend time on the earliest ones. Louis II, aka “the stutterer”!! Too bad he didn’t see “The King’s Speech.” There also were Louis the Fat (they really weren’t politically correct in those times) and Louis the Young and Louis the Lion and St. Louis (the IX–9th–who built the “new” town of Carcassonne around 1260). Then Louis X, aka the Quarreler; Louis XI, aka “the prudent, the cunning, the universal spider.” Sorry, but that one is The Best!!! Being Prudent, Cunning AND a Universal Spider? OMG. What a MAN! Or was he a superhero? But that was from 1461-1483. They don’t make them like they used to. Or maybe they do, except for the prudent part, and we are like flies stuck in a trap.
Louis XII was the “father of the people,” followed by a number of other-named monarchs, including Henri II, whose style was much-copied later.
Louis XIII (13th), aka “the Just,” was in the first half of the 1600s. We know that our apartments existed in 1624, though they might have been there earlier. (I will try to get to the bottom of this one day.) His style is known for lots of twists (torsades) and straight lines, which seems like a contradiction, eh?
Louis XIV was known as Louis the Great or the Sun King. Hard to beat that (though his great-grandson, Louis XV–“the Beloved”–seems to have). Fourteen ruled from 1643-1715 and built Versailles. Think glam.
And then we get to Louis XVI (we’re up to 16 here–seize in French, pronounced “says”), the “restorer of French liberty,” who ruled from 1774 to 1792. Note those dates! What happened just two years after 1774? Hmmm! An era of foment all over the place.
Marquetry
Having read “A Tale of Two Cities” (“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” Sidney Carton: “It’s a far, far better thing that I do than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.” Did you, too, have to memorize that in high school?) and Victor Hugo’s “Les Miserables” (“It is nothing to die. It is frightful not to live.”), I had an impression of the French Revolution as having been a bloody affair directed by perhaps well-meaning but vicious people like Madame Lafarge, Javert, Rousseau and Robespierre and that the revolution was at full swing from the moment the people stormed the Bastille on July 14, 1789, until the day Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette lost their heads on the guillotine in 1792. But in fact, the revolution started earlier and the king hung on for several years. Talks happened, spiced up by marches, including by nasty women.
Among the problems at the time, as “What You Missed in History Class” explains for us, were bad harvests, government deficits, over-taxation and illiquidity. It boiled down to the masses starving.
You must listen to the podcast to get all the details, but basically, people were fed up with not being fed. Call it a minimum wage issue. The podcasters express doubts that Louis XVI was actually evil incarnate or even just callous but instead suspect that he was way over his head and incompetent. In any case, a revolution was born.
Despite all that bad blood, Louis XVI’s style remains much-coveted today. OK, coveted among people who think that IKEA is great if you are 20 years old and on a small budget but then you should buy furniture that will last more than three years, and that proves it by having lasted already more than 100. Coveted by people who do not want to sit on backless benches at dinner. Who do not think that plastic chairs, even Eames, are chic or comfortable.
But how to keep your Louis, Louis, Louis, Louis straight? (And Louis is pronounced like Louie, not Lewis.) First of all, FirstDibs has a great explainer of the different Louis (Louises?). If you are just starting out, start here. Another great resource is the Metropolitan Museum of Art with essays on French chairs and 18th century French furniture more generally.
As the Louvre explains (and they should know), you have Louis XIV and the Regency from 1660-1725, then Rococo from 1725-1755, then classicism and the reign of Louis XVI from 1755-1790.
When I lived in Brussels and Paris was much closer than from where I am now in the deepest corner of rural France (which actually used to be Spain), I always partook of Les Journées de Patrimoine, in which many buildings of historical significance are opened to the public. Sometimes they are museums that drop their usual ticket charges, but the best are government or private buildings that otherwise are strictly off-limits. Once, I toured the Banc de France–like the Federal Reserve, especially because I visited before the euro–and was in a group of very well-dressed, impeccably coiffed, middle-aged Parisians. The kind of people known as bourgeois, or if younger as BCBG—bon chic, bon genre. I saw a couple, in nearly matching tweed suits (her in a skirt, him in trousers whose crease up until that moment had been razor-sharp), on their hands and knees looking at the underbelly of an antique gilded demi-lune console. It’s true there were amazing antiques in every direction, with computers and papers plonked on top.
Fit for a throne
The Carnivore is very sensitive about Louis (Louises?), and is partial to No. 16. He searched high and low for a toilet-paper holder that was in the style of Louis XVI. Even though according to this, toilet paper didn’t get cheap enough for the masses until much later. Far more impressive is the history given by ToiletPaperWorld, which mingles Stephen Crane, money and defecation. “French royalty used lace.” No wonder there was a revolution! (The delicacy of the terms the sites uses is an impressive exercise in euphemisms.)
I have seen references around the Internet to “Louis chairs,” to which I think, WHICH Louis? This alone should qualify me for French citizenship. But which Louis matters only if you’re paying top euro for what’s supposed to be the real thing, in which case, you had better know better. For everything else, “Louis” means something sorta French-antique-looking, probably Louis XVI.
All the same, I have seen how the French teach their young to know their Louis (Louises?). From the time our kid was in the equivalent of second grade, the whole memorize-your-kings thing started. Which is probably why, on a different tour during les Journées de Patrimoine, the docent told us the story of a beautifully painted stucco ceiling in the Marais of Paris, and several of the tour-goers objected vociferously to the dates and kings cited. I was dumbstruck to be in the middle of a heated argument about something that had happened 400 years earlier. At the same time, I was full of admiration, because I absolutely cannot remember such dates.
As for serendipity, what is one of the most beautiful and joyful words in the English language (in French, it’s “happy luck,” not nearly as fun a word as serendipity), algorithms and artificial intelligence are snatching it away from us. Serendipity is opening a newspaper and happening to spy something interesting and relevant. Serendipity is walking into a shop and finding just what you need on sale. Serendipity is running into a friend you haven’t seen in ages someplace unexpected (I once bumped into an old dance buddy from NY in the line for the opera in Rome). Now our news is filtered based on what we like, we shop online for things that are pushed to us, and we know where everybody we’ve ever met is at any moment.
Some of my greatest “aha” moments have been when I have read or listened to things that on the surface didn’t interest me in the least. But they were in publications or on programs that I knew did good work, so I gave them my time. And I was rarely disappointed. I never would have sought out “Stuff You Missed in History Class.” But it came to me, with a story that touched exactly on what I was doing.
Serendipity rules.
Louis, Louis, Louis, Louis One of those serendipitous moments happened recently as I wiped down a new old sofa and otherwise puttered in the apartment that overlooks the courtyard.
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