Okay this is a banners and finance blog now

And video games. Because sometimes I talk about Sekiro. Which I discovered today I’ve put forty hours into since it came out … twelve days ago.

*coughs*

This is why I can’t get anything done.

So anyway. My computer is from 2011, right? It’s not dead yet but I’m looking at replacing it this summer sometime. I created that banner in GIMP, and the first thing I had to do was download the newest version of GIMP because the old one wasn’t compatible with my operating system any longer. The new one is giving my computer hiccups. Then I pulled up the template that I used to create my original Skylights banner and created the new banner.

I then tried to upload it and got barked at because of the resolution of the image– which, remember, they’ve already printed a banner from this exact template. Which, it turns out, was 100 DPI. They wanted 300.

Oh, and also a pull-up banner has slightly different dimensions than the one I originally had made. Oops!

I created a new version of the file at 300 DPI. My computer said “Uh, you know that’s 2.2 GB just for the template, right? And that I’m old?” And then it made some noises I’ve never heard before, and everything took a lot longer than it had on the original images. And I dunno if my images are gonna look right scaled up quite that much, although my cover file was supposed to be 300 DPI itself, it was also for a cover that was only like a foot wide and not three.

And then I dug around some more, and found their template– meaning the one the printer I want to use provides– and it’s 150 DPI.

So my computer will explode if I made the file 300 DPI, my original file was 100 DPI and the image looks fine, and their own templates are 150 DPI.

This will be fine, right?


In accordance with the advice received from many of you yesterday, I will not be cancelling the card. Interestingly, after griping about there not being some sort of simulator online I dug around and discovered that Capital One actually has a “what will this do to my credit?” tool on their website. Their suggestion was that cancelling that card will drop my credit score 5 points, and considering that it’s gone up 21 points in the last six months I can probably afford the hit.

Nonetheless, I’m following instructions.

A banner update and a finance question

This should probably be two posts because the two halves could not possibly be any less related to each other. But whatever. I’ve continued fiddling with the banners I posted yesterday and now I’m looking at this (which I posted to Patreon yesterday!):

Interesting fact: everyone who commented on the blog preferred the banner with the characters, and everyone who commented on Facebook preferred the one with the BA1 cover. This still isn’t final (I need to move the Prostetnic logo up a bit, take the capital letter out of the T in “Trilogies” and maybe change the font on the pull quote) so I’m still open for suggestions if anyone has them.


I paid off a credit card yesterday. Without getting too much more deeply into my business than is strictly necessary, I’ve spent my thirties and the first couple of years of my forties either a) managing or b) putting to bed bad financial decisions I made in my twenties. I have, in other words, more credit card debt than most people. My credit rating is on the high end of average, I think– I don’t miss payments, ever, but I have a lot of open credit and a lot of debt. I would like it to be higher, and I would like for a substantially lower amount of my paycheck to go toward paying off credit cards.

The card I paid off has been paid off before, for the record. The last time I paid it off I didn’t close it, and then I was unemployed for six months and underemployed for two years, so not cancelling it seems, in retrospect, to have been a pretty good decision, because as it turned out the available credit kinda saved me. However, it’s a Bank of America card (one of two I hold, because they bought this card from MBNA) and I kinda hate Bank of America and want to be out from underneath them. It’s *also* my longest continuous line of credit, though– I’ve had this account for over twenty years.

So: is it better for my credit to close the card, thus lowering my overall available credit (which I keep being told is hurting my credit rating) and reducing my dependency on Bank of America, or to hold onto the card with its zero balance, because it’s my longest continuous credit account (which I’m told helps my credit rating) and I can’t predict the future and who knows if I might need it again?

(I’m also not certain how much I need my credit rating to be high right now, for whatever that’s worth. We own our house and aren’t moving anytime soon and I see no reason why I might be applying for anything demanding a credit check any time in the foreseeable future. So maybe I can afford to take a hit right know? Who knows.)

I hate how opaque credit ratings are. There should be a formula I can feed this shit into and get an objective answer and I’m pretty sure even people who know what they’re talking about are gonna be mostly guessing. But if you know more than me, feel free to jump in with advice, because I don’t know shit.

A finance question

b-of-a-card-artJust curious what the hive mind thinks:

I owe a moderate amount on a credit card that I used to owe five figures on.  I can pay it off immediately, but at the cost of maybe a third of my savings.  Or I could continue paying it off in chunks and it’ll be gone in between four to six months, assuming I don’t have some sort of crisis and need to use it.

Once it’s gone, I will no longer owe Bank of America a single dime of money, down from a sizeable chunk of my yearly salary seven or eight years ago.  This is more than a bit attractive, as thoughts go.

Pull the trigger?  Or stay slow and steady?

From the “I’m a dumbass” files…

b-of-a-card-artWithout getting too deep into my financial status, I will say this: I have spent my thirties paying off less-than-optimal decisions I made in my twenties.  The good news is that I’ve been pretty good at being in my thirties, and while I had hoped to be entirely free of credit card debt by my 40th birthday at one point and won’t make that date, I’ll be pretty damn close.

I currently have two open Bank of America cards; one that was originally opened from BoA and one that was actually the first credit card I ever had in my own name and has subsequently been acquired by them.  One, the older one, has a zero balance.  When I started beating on it, the balance was five figures.  The other card is my current “target” card, and a big part of the obscene raise I received with the new job this year has gone to paying off this card.  I tend to send them money twice a month a lot of the time.

Furthermore, the paycheck I just received last Friday is technically a “third paycheck”– meaning that I already have a Bills Paycheck and a Mortgage Paycheck in January, so I can literally spend this one on whatever I want.  When it showed up, I took what was left in my checking account from my last paycheck and immediately sent it to Bank of America.

Tonight, planning on making another BoA payment now that I’ve figured out what I’m doing with the extra money, I logged in.  And noticed that the extra money I’d sent them didn’t appear to have shown up.

A bit of investigation showed that somehow I had managed to make a $150 payment to the card with the zero balance, meaning that that card now has a -$150 balance in my favor.

Bank of America is one of the worst corporations ever, so I expect shenanigans when I try and fix this tomorrow, if I even can, because of course I discover this on the Sunday night before a national holiday.

I’ll keep y’all posted.

Sigh.

In which I wasn’t mad until you apologized

target-data-breachI haven’t talked much about the Great Target Data Breachenationing of 2013, mostly because, honestly, I haven’t been terribly concerned about it– I was one of the ones theoretically affected, because there’s a Target basically in my back yard and I shop there all the time, but I also generally keep a really close eye on my bank account and so I would have noticed any suspicious charges basically immediately. I feel like for the most part Target has behaved as a relatively responsible corporate citizen while all this has been going on, my bank hasn’t made the decision to fuck me unduly like some other banks did; no big deal, right?

I got an email from Target a few days ago; so did my wife and so did, very likely, a whole lot of you, offering me a free year of credit monitoring as a way to make amends.  I’d love to know how much coin Target had to shell out to make this happen or if Experian is just figuring they can make it up on the back end by convincing a shitton of new customers to keep going after that year is up.  I don’t currently have any kind of credit monitoring turned on, although I have in the past, and I’m considering taking them up on their offer. The email is, generally, very apologetic about the whole affair, and it appears that they’ve located a seventeen-year-old (of course it was a teenager) in St. Petersburg who wrote the malware that made the hack possible.

It didn’t hit me until yesterday that, at least for me personally, there’s sort of a big question hanging over my head about the whole thing, and that question didn’t come to light until I got that email:

How the hell did Target get my email address?

I have never ordered anything from Target.com.  Target doesn’t ask for emails as a part of doing business.  I have– and I checked, and since I use gmail my email archive goes back to forever— never received any emails from them before.  I don’t have a Target credit card, and never have, and certainly didn’t in December when the breach happened.  We had a wedding registry with them six years ago, but that was with my wife’s email; mine wasn’t on it.

I can think of one way and one way only that they might have it, which is that I applied for a Target field trip grant for the DC trip this year– but that wasn’t attached to any bank or debit card information, and the address and phone number I provided them was my school address and phone number, so even if they’re cross-matching databases the address and phone number wouldn’t match what they (might?) have through my debit card.  They could, maybe, have done a match with my name and town and made an assumption– but that itself assumes that they’re willing to have a pretty fair number of false positives, and also that they’re working their asses off to collect and consolidate customer data that they have, in turn, then never used until this data breach.  If they got it from my bank, I kinda feel like my bank ought to have told me that, and they didn’t.

I find myself more curious about how they got my email than I am about how the hack was able to happen.  I don’t know if that indicates skewed priorities on my part or not.  And maybe if you’re going to send a giant email to millions of people about how your data collection process got screwed up and compromised, you include a line somewhere about how you got the information that allowed you to contact them in the first place.

On personal finance

money-down-the-toiletWARNING: Ill-informed rant ahead.  More so than usual, yes.

Shut up.

I got another quarterly statement from MetLife today.  I have something called a 401A.  I phrase it that way not because I’m trying to be cute or lead into an explanation but because I really don’t have the vaguest idea what the shit a 401A actually is.   I know it has something to do with retirement and I know that it is pathetically small; I’ve supposedly been paying into this thing (or maybe someone else pays into it, I dunno) for, what, seven years now?– something like that, and the total amount in the account is still less than the amount of a single paycheck.  They helpfully inform me that I can look forward to a monthly retirement income of $64 (that’s not a typo) based on what I have in my account.

I have some other account with some other company; it has even less money in it.  I think I started paying into that in Chicago, maybe, and then I left that job but I still have the account?  I should probably “roll it over” into something; I hear that money can be “rolled over” in some circumstances and I think maybe this might have something to do with that.

And then there’s my TRF, or Teacher’s Retirement Fund.  Off the top of my head I have no idea how much is in that or what it’s good for, but if I’ve gotten my quarterly report from MetLife I’m probably due to get a statement from them soon too.

That, right there, constitutes the entire sum of both my knowledge of how investments work and the current state of my “retirement fund.”  I just actually tried– I think about this every time I get a quarterly statement, but this time I actually did something about it– to log into MetLife’s website to see if I have the option to be “more aggressive” (that’s a money thing, right?) with how they’re allocating my money, because the $8 that my fund increased in value over the last quarter seems… paltry.

The site is insisting that I give them my PIN.  I don’t have a PIN, or at least I don’t think I do; I’m certain I’ve never logged into the website before.  I clicked the button helpfully labeled “Lost your PIN?” and they have informed me that they’re mailing it to me.  Because it is 1986.

Here’s the thing:  I know, intellectually, that I probably ought to care about and be paying close attention to this stuff.  I also know politically that my generation is not going to be allowed to retire.  That’s an illusion; retirement is basically done as a concept in American society for anyone under 40.  That TRF money?  I’ll eat my own dick if that’s still available to me in any meaningful form when I’m 65, or 70, or whatever age they think I ought to be working to by the time I supposedly get to be that old.  That shit’s gonna be stolen, no doubt by some rich ratfucker who deserves it more than I do.  It’s funny money; I don’t believe for a second that it’s actually real or that it will ever actually make its way to me.  I don’t particularly trust the 401A either, for much the same reasons.

I’d like to increase the amount that is getting put into this 401A plan (the corp is kicking in a contribution– at least, I’m pretty sure this money is coming from them, not me– but I’m pretty sure I can tell payroll to pull more out for it if I want) but the state legislature has made it their goal over the last several years to make sure that no teacher in Indiana ever gets a raise again, and so it’s not like there’s extra money becoming available that I could dedicate to investments.

I think I’ll go buy some lottery tickets.  Or– ooh!  A Bitcoin!

On teaching and money (and Miley and Sinead)

ku-bigpic

I am– forgive me for knowing about this, much less bringing it up– kind of really enjoying the Sinead O’Connor/Miley Cyrus thing going on right now.  The first one was just interesting in an intellectual sort of “hey, this happened” kind of way; the second one interests me as a writer.  I knew Sinead O’Connor was kinda fucked up but I wasn’t aware she had a bitchy side and I certainly wasn’t aware that her bitchy side was awesome.  The second letter has this wonderful sort of “Ok, look, we can end this now, but here are my knives if you are foolish” sort of feel to it, as if O’Connor has absorbed Cyrus’ semiliterate trailer trash Twitter response to her initial letter, shrugged, and moved Miley to her mental “destroy” file.  The phrase “you have one last chance” doesn’t appear anywhere in the letter, but it should.  I really hope there’s a third.

I mean, Christ, the line “You could really do with educating yourself, that is if you’re not too busy getting your tits out to read” is art.


I voted to approve the contract, but I’m not terribly happy about it.  Oh, it’s not bad, as they go– we’re getting a small stipend this year basically just for the hell of it and we actually get our first real raise in seven years (two whole percent!) next year, that is assuming we don’t get placed in one of the two lowest evaluation categories.  More money is good.  I like money, even if 2% after having frozen salaries since 2007 is kind of bullshit.  It’s still better than the no-money we’ve been getting on the last several contracts.

The problem is that this round of negotiation really has driven home one important fact for me:  That two percent hike got eaten by inflation years ago.  We are never really getting a raise again, and by “we” in this case I basically mean all of Indiana’s teachers.  I get a yearly pay raise at my fucking minigolf job, people.  The way things used to work, we got yearly step increases until you hit sixteen years of experience and after that you’re depending on actual increases to the pay scale (ie, “raises”) for any further increase in salary.  What this meant is that if you stuck it out long enough eventually everybody made the same amount– sixteen years is a long time, granted, but it leveled you out sooner or later.

Now?  Anyone in my district who makes more money than me right now is going to make more than me forever, and anyone under me– particularly anyone unfortunate enough to have started in the last few years since even step increases became impossible– is going to make less than me forever.  There’s no merit pay of any kind that can increase salary– not that I even think that’s a good idea, mind you– and no bonuses for good performance.  There’s only the stick; you don’t get any raise of any kind if you end up in the lowest two evaluation categories, but it’s not like you get more money if you get a superior ranking.

It’s unfair in a way that I really, really don’t like.  Teaching is already a career with effectively no mobility– a teacher is a teacher is a teacher and while most districts do name team leaders and things like that (a job I’ve held myself on a few occasions) there is no actual salary increase attached to that.  As a teacher, I’ll never be anyone’s boss unless I move to administration– which isn’t teaching.  There’s literally no way to be promoted.  Which means that the fact that there are teachers in my district who not only make ten grand more than me but will make ten grand more than me forever really stick in my craw.  Similarly, I’m mentoring a first-year teacher this year; I make fifteen thousand dollars a year or so more than she does and I will make fifteen thousand dollars a year or so more than her forever, until she wises up and realizes that spending her entire life making $32,000 a year is untenable.  (She gets a raise to $34,000 in 2014-15; the poor schmucks stuck in the bottom two pay steps get a little bump.  But she’ll be stuck there forever.)  Once she realizes that she can make better money and have much less stress in her life doing something else, she’ll be gone, and she’ll be replaced by another 22-year-old making the same $34K that she did until she quit.

Note, also, that while teachers making more than base pay will be quitting a lot, or retiring, they will only be being replaced by teachers making base pay.  Which means that you travel far enough down the road– and I bet it won’t be more than seven or ten years– and something perilously close to all of us will be stuck at that base pay level.  Which people will put up with until they have kids, then they’ll move on to jobs where they’re actually treated like educated professionals, and kiss teaching in a public school district goodbye.

Which is a feature, and not a bug.  This is what they want, and this is what state law is written to do.

I fucking hate Indiana.

In which I need a time machine

photoI need, need for it to be about four hours in the future, y’all.  Four hours in the future (hell, maybe three by now, I dunno) is when I get to eat my dinner, and I’ve spent most of the last two days wanting to eat today’s dinner.  And some cole slaw.  And maybe some chips and French Onion dip.

And maybe six hours of treadmill/exercise bike time after that.

Mmmmm giant slab of piiiiiiiig.


Been tossing around ideas for ways to make more money lately, and I think I may have to see if I can work with a homebound kid next year.  This would mean that in addition to my regular classroom duties I’d spend two hours a day after school working with one kid, someone who for some reason (generally, behavioral) has been deemed unable to attend school with everyone else and thus has to receive his education in an alternate setting.

It’s going to be a lot of work, but my brother did it last year and it’s really good money for the extra work.  Whether it’s enough to make it worth it will no doubt depend on the kid I end up with.  Even the worst-behaved student is often easier to deal with in a one-on-one setting where they don’t have anyone to show off for, so hopefully that’ll work out decently.  If not, these types of things are generally relatively short-term, four to six weeks at a time with one student.  I can put up with anything for a month and a half, right?  He said?

I dunno.  I’m turning 37 next week, which means I will officially be in my Late Thirties, and it’s kind of messing with my head a little bit.  Generally I haven’t been too affected by my birthdays; I was happy to turn both 30 and 35, but 37… yikes.  I made a lot of bad decisions about money in my twenties (some more justifiable than others) that I have spent most of my thirties trying to undo.  I had a solid plan at one point to be free of credit card debt by my fortieth birthday; it’s not as on track right now as it was at the beginning of 2013 because everything in my house keeps exploding and my son had to have tubes put in his ears and my car and blah blah blah life intervenes in your plans, but I’m not too far off, especially if I manage to find a way to bring in some extra funds.

“Write a book!” my brain tells me.

“Shut the fuck up, brain,” the rest of me tells my brain.

Anyway, a homebound kid is more realistic.  I’d basically never be home from school before 5:30, and I’d have to shift some things at Other Job around once it kicked in, and it’s entirely possible it’ll make me crazy, but it’s better than being broke, right?

…right?