I have hosted Thanksgiving at my apartment for the past three years, mostly because I intensely dislike the idea of sitting on a crowded Metro-North train for two hours the Wednesday before, hiding behind magazines in order to avoid the people on the train I haven’t seen since high school. We are not a Christmas family. Thanksgiving, with its food and its revelry and the easy familiarity of drinking a nice glass of red wine around 3 p.m. with people I haven’t seen in a year is our tradition.
In 2014, Erin and her family moved from the U.S. to Estonia, a member country of the European Union and NATO between Finland, Latvia and Russia, where English, Estonian and Russian are all widely spoken. Their decision was based on the cost and quality of living, health care system, levels of technology and other benefits not available in the U.S., like free public transportation. Erin is now in the master’s program at Tallinn University on a full scholarship and working part-time at a non-profit organization supporting civil society in Russia; her husband is self-employed and works online. The family’s residence permits are currently based on her educational status, but could be supported by her husband’s status as a business owner as well. Subject to approval and a language test, one can apply for permanent residency after five years of temporary residency in Estonia, which allows living and working in any E.U. country. Estonia does not allow dual citizenship, so they plan to stay U.S. citizens.
Getting a restaurant reservation for a popular restaurant can sometimes feel like an impossible task. A friend of mine once wrote a long, lovely letter to a restaurant owner to get a reservation, while another friend was able to land a reservation by using a concierge service via his credit card. I tend to wait until the hype has died down a bit before making an attempt to dine at whatever restaurant just received a load of glowing reviews, or join a dinner party that managed to get a reservation through some kind of hookup.
I think if reading the money beat for a year -- certainly not something I read before this -- has taught me anything it's just that there is no right answer for anyone. I can share with you my reaction but I don't think it's ever necessarily the correct one. We all bring so much shit to the table. I love that this is a place where we discuss said shit, and our feelings about it, or just an honest accounting for how we've dealt with it. Sometimes a good old Cost of Things is much more illuminating than any of our ideas about any of it.
The New York City Marathon has once again come and gone and, after a day spent outside cheering for runners and surreptitiously sipping bloody Marys from a paper coffee cup right in front of some cops, it’s easy to think "I should totally run this sometime."
I recently moved across Canada, from Vancouver, BC to Toronto, ON, with my boyfriend, in a van with all of our worldly possessions! Here’s what it cost us.
Even being as little as 13 pounds overweight resulted in $9,000 less per year.
Or, What Prompted Me to Change My Tinder Bio to Simply: Buy me a drink.
You need 10-12 cloth diapers ($180) just to get through a regular Monday -- and that assumes you are then going to wash and dry the whole load to get it ready for Tuesday, and you will never do that, that's insane. So really you need more like 25 ($250) at least, plus the liners, which are still necessary to keep the diapers from turning into a swamp.