My Friend Foreclosure, Almost One Year Later

Last year, a friend of mine decided to stop paying his mortgage.  If you’re new to this blog, you may be interested in Part One and Part Two of his story.  

Recently, a few of you have emailed to ask for an update.  I haven’t posted one because, well, nothing much has happened since May 1, 2008, the day my friend stopped paying his mortgage.  For the first few months, my friend received voicemail messages reminding him that payments were past due, followed by letters asking him to call the bank to make payment arrangements.  Around late September or early October he stopped hearing from the bank altogether.  My friend received not a single voicemail or letter until yesterday.

Yesterday, my friend received a letter that stated only that the bank hoped to go to court next month to officially begin foreclosure proceedings.  My friend called the bank for more information, but had an odd conversation with the customer service representative who answered.  With so many mortgages having been bundled and sold, my friend was curious to find out if the bank from which he obtained his mortgage is still the legal holder of the mortgage note, and if they could prove it.  The customer service representative told my friend that she did not have to answer his question.

Now that’s really interesting, isn’t it?  If I’m not mistaken, it’s questionable if an entity that does not legally hold the note to the property can file any sort of claim (like a foreclosure) on the property.  Failure to produce original mortgage paperwork has stopped other foreclosures. My friend is now looking into that, but this possibility may explain why this process has already moved so slowly – or not.  The sheer scale of the housing crisis is probably reason enough.

But there’s a new layer to this story as well: My friend’s condo building is in hock.  My friend purchased a condo in an eight-unit building.  He purchased his unit in early 2007.  At the time, only one other unit in the building had sold.  These were all of the units that would EVER sell in my friend’s building, to date.  This complicates matters because, in order for the control of a condo building to move from the building’s developer to a condo association, approximately 75% of the units must have sold.  Since only two of eight units sold, the “flip point” from developer to new association was never achieved.  The developer remained in charge of the building, which he probably never hoped for.  Most developers are eager to stay out of the property management business.

The developer was a questionable fellow to begin with.  He was an immigrant and not necessarily a U.S. citizen, which isn’t necessarily an issue.  But he engaged in some strange behavior, such as putting up wooden boards on the inside of the wrought iron fence surrounding the building and painting the wrought iron fence gold.  It looked ghetto, to put it mildly.  

A few months ago, the developer fled.  He’d been living in one of the six finished units in the building and left.  No one has seen him since, and no one can reach him.  There have been a few visits from various professional looking entities inquiring about the developer’s whereabouts, but the two lone building tenants have no idea where he is.  They suppose he returned to his country of origin in debt.

Given this, what will become of the building in which my friend resides?  We joked this evening about a “foreclosure race”: Which will be foreclosed on first, the building or my friend’s unit?  What will happen if no one can produce mortgage notes or other original paperwork on my friend’s unit or the building?

This is when the mind has fun entertaining unlikely scenarios.  Should my friend start renting out the finished condo units in the building for reasonable sums?  Will he or the other tenant be able to file a squatters claim on the property?  Oh, the possibilities.

As promised earlier in this story, I’ll keep you posted.

Bridal Breakdown Day

I had a real, albeit brief, nervous breakdown today.  Yes, I broke down on the bar at Tra Vigne and in bed for about an hour after we got home.

Today, we visited a party rental establishment to take a gander at plates, napkins and other requisite wedding nonsense.  I don’t mean to offend, but it is nonsense for Sweet Man and I.  I’m just not one of the women who has “dreamed of this day forever.”  

Anyway.  Sweet Man and I almost always selected the absolutely rock-bottom, least expensive items.  And yet… And yet.

$1,200

That was the quote we got today for the rental of wedding detritus, specifically (this detailed itemization is for those of you who, like me, ask “How exactly do wedding expenses these days come to be what they are?”):

• 50 chairs for the ceremony at my future in-laws’ home: $125
• 50 dinner plates: $25
• 50 dessert plates: $25
• Coffee cups: $17.50
• Saucers: $17.50
• 50 each of forks, knives, salad/dessert forks and teaspoons: $92.50
• 50 each of red wine, white wine, water and champagne glasses: $242.50
• Tablecloths and napkins: $172.50
• Basic delivery: $65
• Delivery and pick-up during specific delivery windows (i.e. when we actually need things to be delivered and picked up vs. whenever the rental place deigns to do so): an additional $125/each way for $250 total
• An additional 50 white chairs for the community center, should we decide we don’t want to use the metal folding chairs there: $190

While the saleswoman spoke too rapidly for me to follow, picking up tablecloths on hangers and saying things like $37 per” and “$18 per,” I honestly thought I would faint.  I started to feel lightheaded and warm and out of my league.  You see, in my geek parlance: There’s a chick bit in me that isn’t flipped.  I was not, like so many of the female persuasion seem to be, born with a princess dream or a vision in my mind’s eye of The Perfect Table Setting.  When I am exposed to women whose chick bits appear to be 100% flipped, I don’t know what to do.  They look at me as if I’m inadequate and require instruction.  Today, for instance, I was nastily reminded that “You may not care, but people DO respond to beauty.”  Thanks, chick bits.  At least Sweet Man was there to assure me that I didn’t imagine the implied inadequacy.  

Hence my breakdown. 

I am beginning to understand how certain wedding decisions are made.  I am beginning to understand, for example, how couples just give up and book a $5,000+ venue simply because everything is included – everything from linens to basic flowers to napkins and glasses.  I understand the desire for an all-inclusive venue because we tried so hard to save money by selecting an inexpensive reception venue.  The community center in our particular Napa Valley town cost us $9/hour, or $135 total for 15 hours (plus a $350 fully refundable cleaning deposit).

You get what you pay for.  $135 means nothing is included.  The community center has folding chairs and tables.  That’s it.  Plates and glasses have to come from somewhere, and someone has to bring them from somewhere else – for a fee.  Always for a fee.  I’ve learned that anyone will do just about anything you ask them to do – for a fee.

After receiving this quote of almost $1,200, Sweet Man and I scoured restaurant supply places online to see if we couldn’t buy everything we needed for less or the same price as the rental quote.  We couldn’t.  Even if we could have, where would we have put 50 of everything?  We have a tiny apartment and no storage space – and no one we know in their California priced housing has storage space, either.  

There is also the reality of the logistics: Even if we had been able to purchase dishes, etc. for less than the cost of rental, we (well, someone) would have had to spend the entire day after the wedding running dishes through a dishwasher – and have someone make sure the dishes first made it back to the house at some point after the reception.  Do we want one of our guests or family members to be loading up dirty dishes at the community center and running it back to the house?  No.  They should be enjoying themselves, not doing chores.  

Could we just chuck all of the dishes we bought into a recycling bin and call it a day?  It was tempting for a few minutes, but it’s a Marie Antoinette tendency that we don’t need to indulge.

So.  This is how it happens.  This is how you end up paying for wedding things that you need but don’t want to pay for. 

People keep telling us we’re “getting away with not spending much” (as if it’s luck vs. planning) but $1,200 for renting wedding items feels absolutely criminal.  I hate to use the typical bleeding heart statement, but i’m sure we could feed a few villages in Iraq for about $1,200, or help my unfortunate cousin with trashy, useless parents through college.  

Or do anything else besides pay for dishes.

The idea of compostable, disposable bamboo plates is not dead yet…

Debt Culture

This is an absolute must-read article by Jim Jubak: U.S. Deep in Debt and Still Digging. This is one of those articles I rely on when I need a succinct, clear way to explain how it is that you and I come to pay thousands of dollars for government debt. Most people truly don’t understand that we pay for this, or how much; as Jim Jubak spells it out, “The taxes you paid on your recently filed 1040 included roughly $4,300 to cover your household’s annual share of the interest payments on the $9.4 trillion in public debt owed by the U.S. government.”

That’s just the interest.  In case you missed that.  Just the interest… on debt you did not willingly incur!  For stuff you didn’t get to enjoy or choose to buy!  Think, for a moment, of how much better off you’d be if you had that $4,300 to put toward your OWN debt.  Note to CPA: Is there anything we can do about this?

Jubak also includes a little nugget about why it’s important to think about the origin of the products you buy: “That $9.4 trillion is just part of what we as a nation owe collectively. There’s also the $700 billion trade deficit we ran up in 2007 as a result of importing more than we exported.”

A much darker, doomsday commentary on the cultural shift we need to make away from consumption is here: What a Way to Go, a movie. I encourage you to be critical about the presentation and message, but also open minded. As we should be with all messages others try to use to influence us!

In brighter news, I haven’t bought anything in two days (yesterday and today, and today is pay day). I love that feeling.

Our usual toothpaste was $2 off per box on Sunday. I had a financial geek moment in the Walgreen’s. You know, that insane joker-like grin you get when you find something you really love and normally buy at full price with a major markdown? And you’re happy because you’re not compromising at all and buying the cheaper brand you hate instead? Yeah. I bought three, which is all that Tiny But Inexpensive Apartment has room for right now.

I’ve also started using the library again.  With online renewals and this LINK + fanciness (in which the book I want, if found anywhere in the California Republic, essentially, is sent to the local branch of my choosing), I have no excuses.  This is another case where frugal is greener: I read most books once.  To spend the money on them, to say nothing of the raw materials (trees) used to make the books and the Amazon boxes they’re shipped in, and never mind the fuel used to ship them here, well, it’s a travesty.  I need to get in the library habit for a lot of reasons.

One Huge Step: Hair Dye

I have a weakness for dying my hair. I started at my friend’s house in high school, when my very light, very naturally blonde hair just wasn’t suitable for someone trying so desperately to look goth (me).

Hair dye became a habit, and not an inexpensive one. I’ve been dying my hair in some capacity ever since high school, usually at salons.  Every time I’ve tried to save money by dying my hair at home, it hasn’t panned out. My hair is never exactly the right color, or the color doesn’t last as long. I usually end up right back at the salon, paying more money to have my hair look like what I had in mind in the first place, spending more than I would have if I’d just made an appointment in the first place.

I’d probably be tempted to hurl myself from the Golden Gate Bridge if I had a grand tally (financial and chemical body burden wise) of what I’ve paid for the “privilege” of bathing in color-dye chemicals every few months since the age of 15.

So, in December, I decided the time had come to stop dying my hair, once and for all. First, doing so was downright hypocritical. Here I am, reading food labels like a paranoid maniac, buying all-natural-organic everything, making my own food, making my own natural skin care stuff, and… dousing my scalp in chemicals that have been linked to cancer. And paying a damn lot to do it.  Makes perfect sense, no?!

I tried to find salons that used non-toxic or at least less-toxic dyes, and aside from Aveda (which costs a fortune) I couldn’t find many. Two and a half full months went by. And then the new hair and the old dyed hair didn’t look so great together, and I found myself scowling in the mirror every day. I finally lost my patience and, after much of my chemical-paranoia research, bought some EcoColors hair dye in a color that matched my roots (Medium Ash Blonde). And…

I have the best home dye job EVER. I love it more than most salon results I’ve had. As long as I have EcoColors, I’m not paying for a salon dye job again. Yes, it still has *some* chemicals in it, but in trace amounts compared to most salon dyes. My hair is in better shape than ever, much better than it is after salon treatments, and best of all, it didn’t have the usual hair-dye smell. I smelled like lavender essential oil instead. Bliss!

Yes, it costs $17.50 for a home color kit, 2-3 times what drugstore brands cost. But it’s less than the $40-$50 at the local beauty school, much less than $95 at the hipster salon I admit I went to, and much less toxic. I am so, so happy this worked out. Thank you, EcoColors!

We Owe China, Big Time

I occasionally get questions, but more often flak, for not buying things made in China. I’m sometimes accused of racism, anti-globalization sentiments, and so on. This leads to my trying to explain the vicious cycle of American over-spending and debt to China, which I don’t think most Americans truly understand or want to think about. It’s hard to have fun shopping and “getting good bargains” when you pause to think of where your dollars really go. Best not to think about it and instead enjoy how cute you look in that adorable new sweater.

Fortunately, a recent article in the Atlantic does a much better job than I ever have of explaining the intricacies of American over-spending, foreign debt, where our dollars really go, and how the quality of life in China held “artificially low” by the Chinese government. I strongly encourage everyone to read this article. The Atlantic has the full-text article available online for non-subscribers at:

The $1.4 Trillion Question by James Fallows
The Chinese are subsidizing the American way of life. Are we playing them for suckers—or are they playing us?
http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200801/fallows-chinese-dollars

This snippet that drives the point home: “In effect, every person in the (rich) United States has over the past 10 years or so borrowed about $4,000 from someone in the (poor) People’s Republic of China.”

I think the highlight of the article is the author tracing the purchase of a $30 electric toothbrush at CVS to China, which begins at the top of page 3 with this paragraph:

“Let’s say you buy an Oral-B electric toothbrush for $30 at a CVS in the United States. I choose this example because I’ve seen a factory in China that probably made the toothbrush. Most of that $30 stays in America, with CVS, the distributors, and Oral-B itself. Eventually $3 or so—an average percentage for small consumer goods—makes its way back to southern China.

When the factory originally placed its bid for Oral-B’s business, it stated the price in dollars: X million toothbrushes for Y dollars each. But the Chinese manufacturer can’t use the dollars directly. It needs RMB—to pay the workers their 1,200-RMB ($160) monthly salary, to buy supplies from other factories in China, to pay its taxes. So it takes the dollars to the local commercial bank—let’s say the Shenzhen Development Bank. After showing receipts or waybills to prove that it earned the dollars in genuine trade, not as speculative inflow, the factory trades them for RMB.”

And a few paragraphs later:

“And thus our dollar comes back home. Spent at CVS, passed to Oral-B, paid to the factory in southern China, traded for RMB at the Shenzhen bank, “surrendered” to the PBOC, passed to SAFE for investment, and then bid at auction for Treasury notes, it is ready to be reinjected into the U.S. money supply and spent again—ideally on Chinese-made goods.

At no point did an ordinary Chinese person decide to send so much money to America. In fact, at no point was most of this money at his or her disposal at all. These are in effect enforced savings, which are the result of the two huge and fundamental choices made by the central government.”

And the Chinese people are less and less pleased about this, a development I understand and will follow. Like the aforementioned average Chinese person, I don’t decide to let our government make some of the decisions it does about spending. I vote as I can and contact my representatives, but it doesn’t mean they do what I say. I can, as one person, decide to send less money to China and stop subsidizing this cycle. All of us can. Most of my money, though not the government’s, is at my disposal. We are all in control of our own money, or should be, and most of us trying to get out of debt and save are aiming for control of our money.

So. I don’t buy goods from China because I don’t want to contribute to this cycle. It is simply not fair for Chinese workers to live the way they are, with a lower quality of life than they should have, while we Americans load up on seasonal bedding and more clothing than we can wear in a year and more shoes than we could wear out in five. I deplore entitlement-minded behavior and our country is full of it. Living without credit card debt and within your means, without using any cash “on loan” from anyone aside from yourself and your own earnings, can remove you from this cycle a bit more.

At the end of the day, we’re U.S. citizens whose government might be doing things we don’t agree with, but each of us can contribute LESS to this unsustainable cycle that has to end some day. It’s hard, but it’s going to be harder later. Buying cheaper goods seems to save money, but our being sheltered from the true cost of goods (i.e., the long-term impact of being beholden to China and at great injustice to the regular old Chinese working person) is what’s allowed us to accumulate so many things we don’t need: Cheap goods have only enforced the idea that we can and should have more, rather than less, and we are sinking ourselves into debt both as individuals and as a nation so we can have still more of it.

Being Green

“Green” as in good to the environment, other humans, and myself and, ideally, “green” as in flush with cash.

It can be difficult to be both, because organic everything is more expensive. It doesn’t seem fair to pay MORE for FEWER chemicals, does it? But those synthetic chemicals are cheap to produce. I have heard folks say, in response to this “organic costs more” comment, “But what will it cost you to eat conventionally produced food? Your health, ultimately, and then you’ll have to pay for that…” I agree, I do. But I’m talking about that moment at the grocery store where you’re exhausted after work, there are five days until pay day, and you’re staring at the shelf of heavenly fresh coffee and the organic stuff costs twice as much as the non-organic stuff.

Many of you know my weakness for Product, in the Queer Eye sense of the word: hair gunk, skin potions, shiny makeup baubles. I have spent hundreds of dollars per month (and I know I’m not the only woman out there who has) on this crap, none of which does what it promises to do, and a lot of which isn’t very green at all if you bother to read the label. A lot of pricey, “natural” products out there aren’t good for you at all and are just guilty of greenwashing. A good place to start is the Cosmetics Database created by the Environmental Working Group. Have fun pouring your hope out of the bottle with that.

I also noticed that all of these products were touting vitamin this and jojoba oil that and coconut oil this. You’ve seen it. The bottle highlights a tiny drop of something cheap like it’s a major selling point “Vitamin C!” in a pretty orange font, right? Rather than buy the expensive product with watered down versions of the good stuff, PLUS chemicals and plenty of bad stuff, why not just… buy the real stuff?

I’ve put it off for nearly all of 2007, but I made what may be the biggest change of the year about three weeks ago: I use no more crap chemicals at home at all now. If I wouldn’t eat it, I won’t wear it. And I’m saving money, because the truly greenest stuff is also the cheapest:

• I use pure jojoba oil for acne, and was initially angry at how well it worked because I didn’t figure it out sooner. Oh, the money and chemical body burden I could have saved! It ranges from $6/bottle to about $12/bottle and I use literally five drops total, for day and night. It will probably last a year. I’ve seen dermatologists, had prescriptions, done peels, you name it, and nothing has worked as well as jojoba oil.
• If I have a break-out I dilute a single drop of tea tree oil (about $7-$10/bottle depending on size) in witch hazel ($1). Best astringent over, though I recommend rinsing this particular potion off. I find it a little too drying if I leave it on all day or night.
• Aluminum-free solid deoderant from Lush and Liquid Rock by Kiss My Face. Liquid Rock still has potassium alum and the jury’s out on that, so I stick with the solid stuff most days.
• A friend of mine uses straight-up gin for deoderant and swears by it. Talk about saving money! A small bottle of cheap gin goes a long way. She’s not a dirty hippy type either. She’s prissy and dressed to the nines every day. She has cancer, which was her inspiration, but she’s still prissy and dressed to the nines!
• I use a pure cocoa butter stick ($2) around my eyes with a few drops of vitamin E ($4-$6/bottle) on top. Great for your cuticles, too! Again, you need so little vitamin E that $4 can last at least a year.
• I use vanilla extract (the very same you’d put in a cookie, $5/my bottle) and rose water ($3-$5 depending on type) for perfume. Subtle, inexpensive, and non-toxic.

Now I just need to ween myself off of hair dying, my last chemical vestige. Sniff. I haven’t dyed it since Sept. 15 and I genuinely love it, so I think this one is much more about breaking the habit of dying it than how much I truly like my hair. I looked at EcoColors, but unless I’m crazy, there’s still ammonia and PPD in there.

Stay on the Wagon, Share the Wealth

This is my constant struggle: To stay frugal while spreading the wealth, because I’m still more fortunate than most.

I admit it. I paid off that huge credit card balance and all of the shopping I’d held back on demanded attention. I gave in, like a parent tired of hearing the incessant cries of a toddler.

I bought two J.Crew sweaters (fortunately my “can’t be made in China” rule limited my selection), three items of expensive boutique clothes on lovely Fillmore St. (all made in the USA, which only helped me rationalize the expense), three dresses in Detroit (one for a friend and two for me, all made in the USA), a case of wine (all Christmas gifts, to be fair), and I started eating out a lot more again. Forgive me, dear reader, but most of the year was a dry one for spending and full of disheartening debt.

I shopped BUT I did not ring up my credit card. I’m paying off the balance every month, just using it for $100-$200/month to keep the ratings good (and business travel that work reimburses me for).

Well, was, since I just put my remaining fall tuition balance of $1,989 on there today.  I had to pay so I can register for classes.  If I don’t register on time terrible events ensue: Undergraduate loans go into repayment, late registration fees incur, registration holds are put on and are difficult to remove.  It’s OK though.  I can pay for most of that balance with the next rent check ($1,330) and some of my paycheck.

The sum total of all of this going out more than usual, and traveling more than usual, which means eating out more than usual and taking cabs more frequently than usual, has added up, and I found myself two days away from pay day with very little cash in the bank. That hadn’t happened in a while. Behold yon red flag!

I also got hit with a surprise $200 furnace repair for my renters.  It’s cold in Chicago, it had to be fixed immediately, and I don’t mind doing it.  It just meant $200 less for tuition, and was a good reminder of why we all need a substantial emergency fund!

Now I’m in a dry season. Money for the mortgage and rent is already set aside for the end of the month in my short-term savings account. Cash has been taken out of the bank and it’s the only thing I can use for spending for the next two weeks. The hair color appointment has been delayed for one more month (and I’m still thinking of canceling it), the Christmas gift list has been weened.

The lesson here is consistency: If I am more consistent about spending, I shouldn’t need a dry season at all. This dry season is a bit like having debt, even though I only spent cash. I spent too much, too fast, and need to build up the kitty again.

2007: Not Made in China

That’s been my rule for all of 2007. If the label says Made in China, I can’t have it, period. There is no maybe, no sometimes, only “no.” Having this hard-and-fast rule has stopped me from buying a LOT of things I would have – next year I’ll track them ALL.

Looking back on this from the eleventh month of the year, it wasn’t as difficult as I expected, in part because I admittedly have a high enough income to enable me to make this choice more easily.

I plan to do it again in 2008, or until such time as China stops permitting slave labor in the deplorable (if not worse) conditions that folks in the U.S. fought for many decades to change, back in the 19th and early 20th centuries that no one seems to learn about in school anymore. My father is a skilled machinist, and I don’t know of a factory in China that I’d want him to work in.

Throughout the year, my friends have accused me of being bigoted. Believe me, I have nothing against the Chinese people, but I am dead against the lack of labor rights and abysmal conditions that are permitted and common in China. Next year, I may expand my list to cover all countries with poor labor standards, and will probably end up not buying much of anything.

What’s funny is the fact that cheaper materials and slave labor still haven’t reduced the price of many things I buy. Boots made in China still cost $300-$500 at Nordstrom (I have AA feet, I don’t have a lot of options). So what’s the point of buying things that are made there, besides convenience? Made in the USA Munro shoes average about $200. If you have a choice at the same price point, why subsidize slave labor and ghastly working conditions?

Though I don’t have a tally of what I’ve saved this year, I do have a recent example from a recent trip to Michigan (where I do try to support locally owned businesses since the state economy is in such a recession right now). I really wanted and could not buy (and note that it’s all crap I don’t need at all):

1. A Kirkland (Costco brand) gray cashmere cable knit sweater. It looks just like the J. Crew ones (it was probably made in the same factory) but cost half the price at $75. Made in China, can’t have it, $75 saved.

2. A complete Curious George set of books for my friend’s new baby. They’re printed in China, so that’s $10 not spent.
3. An imitation Rabbit wine opener, also Kirkland brand, for $20 not spent.

That’s $105 saved in a single trip due to my simple shopping rule.

I also visited Chester Boot Shop while in town, because I like to support locally owned businesses. I was sad to learn that Doc Martens are no longer made in the U.K., but in China. I tried them on. They fit well. I loved them. They cost $134. And I couldn’t have them. They brought my saved-money total to about $240.
I was able to buy three dresses for $134 (two for myself, one as a gift for the friend who was with me) at Flow (a door or two down from the Avalon Bakery, which is at 422 Willis). They were fabulous and all Made in the USA.

I am thinking of getting Man a big Kitchen Aid mixer for Christmas. Yes, they’re $300, but I’ve been putting money away in the Chrismtas kitty, little by little, and there’s more than $500 in it right now. I was so happy to see that that heavy mixer was still made in St. Joseph, Michigan!

My other gifts will be homemade maple cutting boards, a few things from Heath Ceramics, and a couple of bottles of locally produced wine. I may also sew some wine-carrying bags to wrap them in.

I hate the health insurance industry – but I’ll use mine for now.

Full disclosure: I despise the health insurance industry and would love to see it crumble.  Just so you know where I stand.

I could pen volumes about why I feel this way, but it’s easier for you to see Sicko, which covers many of my experiences.  These include my protesting bills for services explicitly covered by my plan and having said bills put into collection while I was doing so; having an insurance company representative pressure me to lie and file a workers comp claim for an accident that did not happen at work so the state could pay for it instead; having an x-ray of my foot but not my ankle covered when I had torn ligaments throughout my lower leg.  You see, the foot x-ray was “necessary” but the ankle one was not. Isn’t it amazing how insurance companies can know all of this, when they weren’t in the ER with you and never contacted the ER doctor?

In addition, health insurance companies influence the amount of time doctors spend with patients – at present, they want doctors to spend about six to ten minutes with patients. This boils my blood: Insurance companies are not doctors. They have no business telling doctors how much time to spend with patients, period.

For these reasons and so many others, I was planning to go the “no insurance” route that my friend recently has. She sees a doctor who flat-out does not accept insurance, even if you have insurance coverage. The doctor made this change a few years ago because she felt that, if she continued to accept insurance, she would no longer be able to provide the quality of service she does (longer appointments, all work done by the doctor instead of a nurse practitioner or assistant, etc.). And, according to my friend and a few other acquaintances, she’s the best doctor ever. My friend has never had a better, higher quality experience.

This higher quality experience will cost you, however.  In principle, I want the same quality of care and would love to support a doctor who’s cutting out insurance companies. Doing so means that my appointment would cost me $350 out of pocket, none of which would have been paid by insurance or reimbursed later.

With all of the debt I need to pay off this year, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Frankly, $350 is a nice payment toward the credit card or in savings. In addition, I pay for health insurance out of every single paycheck. If I’m paying for it, I should use it.

So, I made an appointment with Man’s doctor, who accepts our insurance plan. But I didn’t really make an appointment with the doctor, because she wasn’t available until October. Since I need to have my annual physical soon, I can’t wait until October. Instead, I was given an appointment next week with a nurse practitioner (NP), who will do my entire annual physical. Every other practice I called was no longer accepting new patients – and I didn’t call the ons with bad online reviews.

I don’t have an issue with NPs. I know several nurses personally and they’re almost synonymous with “doctor” in my mind. I do find this situation an interesting quality trade-off, though, in a couple of ways.  First, the NP is doing the work of a doctor but isn’t get paid nearly as much as a doctor (I asked).  In order to get an appointment soon at a place that accepts my insurance plan, I had to “settle” for not seeing a doctor and having an NP do everything. The “office” will just renew my current birth control and allergy prescriptions. No one will speak with me to see if I’m having problems, decide if having prescriptions renewed is the best idea or not, or anything.

Here’s a whole new reason to pay off debt: So I can afford better-quality health care and not be beholden to what my insurance company dictates.