Charging the groceries

Because husband-dear and I are all about being a hip, 21st century, equal opportunity married couple, we share the chores. When I work a 14-hour day, husband-dear will pick up the slack around the house, run errands, and take care of the kids, and whenever I'm home, I do the same for him. It seems to work well, other than whenever I'm home he still ends up doing the yard, since I still don't see what's wrong with overgrown bushes and scraggly grass, and whenever I'm working million-hour weeks, I still dust our furniture, as I'm convinced men just can't see the thin layer of grey so obvious to people like myself.

So during spring break, while husband-dear was off doing what were, I'm sure, vital things for the nation, I took care of our laundry, the house, the kids, the dogs, in short, I went all June Cleaverish on my boys. One of the chores I took care of this past week, was shopping for groceries. Shopping for groceries has really always been husband-dear's Area of Responsibility, and so whenever I take over, it requires nothing short of a change of command ceremony to make sure I come home with the right stuff. We write a list together, he specifies the brands where necessary,  substitutes brand names with really long descriptions ("not minced fish sticks, but "from whole", and it's in a yellow box with a fisherman on it. I think he has a beard) in case he can't remember the name, and makes sure I get the products we need ("so make sure you get healthy select low sodium soup. It has a green heart on it. If they don't have low sodium, then get the healthy request brand, as their sodium levels are OK"). I then re-write the list in the order of the aisles of the grocery store (yes, I'm a dork), and all usually goes well.

Well, this past Thursday all was almost not well, as the commissary's card readers were broken. They were only taking cash or checks. While pretty much all of the elderly retired folk read the sign, shrugged, said to no one in particular, "Well, now, this is why I always carry my checkbook in my purse", and kept on moving, most young(er) folk like myself stopped dead in their tracks. I don't know if it is a generational thing, but our checkbook sits at home in our filing cabinet, with our bank things, and I never carry more than $10 in cash on me. So there I was, at the grocery store, list in hand, feeling all Suzy Homemaker-ish, but with no way to pay. This would not have happened to June Cleaver, obviously. Obviously, the homemaker gods felt the same way, as just as I was about to turn around and drive to the bank on base, I noticed the ATM machine squeezed in between the bathrooms and the organic grapes.

With enough cash to pay for my groceries and feel like a gangster at the same time, I proceeded on my merry little way. And noticed the commissary was surprisingly empty. So empty, in fact, that I set a new DixieChick household record for time spent grocery shopping. At the register, I asked the cashier if it was me, or if there really were fewer customers.
"Oh no, there's fewer people around. I guess most people leave when they see the sign, but a lot of folks don't see the sign, they shop, and then find out here at the register, and then have to leave all their groceries."
"But why don't they just take cash out of the ATM?"
"Well, they charge their groceries, and the ATM won't let you do a cash advance on your credit card."

I actually stopped and asked if she meant that these people would put their groceries on their credit cards. And she did. Now am I the only one who finds that somewhat odd? I understand charging your groceries when you earn points/miles/money with your credit card, but, and it's very possible I'm hopelessly old-fashioned, shouldn't you make sure you have enough money in the bank to use said credit card?

Apparently the answer is no.
I know Americans love their credit cards the same way Dutch people love their potatoes, but this really blew me away. For the past four years, I have been surrounded by students who charge their entire lives, using their credit cards to pay for exorbitant spring breaks, expensive purses, and cars that are out of my budget, and I've grown accustomed to learned to not criticize this habit of spending money even when there is no money to spend. I've also finally figured out why so many Americans who would visit me in Europe would think we were all poor because most people drive around in older cars, and live in smaller homes than they're used to: it's because in Europe most people don't buy stuff unless they can pay for it in cash, while in the US, it's perfectly acceptable to have a $400 monthly car payment for five years or so.

But only being able to pay for your groceries when you can charge it to your credit card is new to me. And I really, truly could not imagine doing that. Even when I imagined being a young airman's wife with two little kids, a car payment, student loans, and not two pennies to rub together, I couldn't picture myself charging my groceries. We would, first of all, not have a car payment, we probably also wouldn't have two kids if we couldn't afford them, but even if we did, I know that I would coupon/ramen/mac-n-cheese/grow-your-own-vegetables/breastfeed-for-a-few-years/get-a-nighttime-job my way out of accruing credit card debt on top of all of that. Sorry about the breastfeeding imagine. But you get the idea.

Maybe I should be nicer. In fact, I know I should probably be nicer. But having been thoroughly raised in the "use it up, make do, or do without" school of thought, I'm having a hard time with this. So please excuse me while I go in search of some grace.

Centen, centen, centen

Ik ben, eerlijk gezegd, helemaal niet zo van het geld. Ja, het moet er zijn, en ja, ik hou van een spaarpotje hebben, maar ik ben dus niet zo iemand die zit te springen om een salarisverhoging. Nu is dat eigenlijk alleen maar harstikke handig, aangezien we hier op de universiteit de laatste vier jaar geen verhoging meer gehad vanwege "de crisis", maar goed, ik kan me er persoonlijk dus helemaal niet zo druk om maken. Ik verdien geld, ik kan sparen, en zo nu en dan op vakantie, klaar.

Maar helaas heb ik ook principes (alleen niet als het op parkeren aan komt). En op dit moment worden deze toch ernstig op de proef gesteld door de laatste geweldige "we moeten besparen" actie van de hoge bazen op de universiteit. Maar voordat ik op dit laatste morele dilemma in kan gaan, moet ik even iets uitleggen over "overload" en "overload pay".

"Overload" duidt op het geven van meer vakken dan waarvoor je bent aangenomen. In mijn geval is dat dus vier vakken per semester. Voor eenieder die mijn blog al een tijdje bijhoudt is dit niks nieuws. Sinds mijn tweede jaar hier geef ik ergens tussen de vijf en zeven vakken per semester. Ook dat komt door de budgetcrisis, want eigenlijk hebben we een nieuwe full-time professor nodig, maar ja, daar is dus even geen geld voor. Zegt men. Maar goed. Ik ben natuurlijk gekke henkie niet, en wordt voor die extra vakken gewoon betaald.

En zo komen we uit op het tweede woord "overload pay". Dat duidt, jawel, op het extra salaris dat je krijgt omdat je extra vakken geeft. Dit salaris is, en hier komt woord nummer drie, "pro-rated", hetgeen betekent dat de hoogte van het salaris afhangt van het aantal studenten in de vakken die je extra geeft. Helemaal precies weet ik het niet, maar ik meen dat je $150 per student per semester krijgt. Heeft een vak meer dan 15 studenten, dan krijg je "full pay", en dat is $2250 per vak (dit is allemaal publieke informatie, en na te lezen op de website van de University System of Georgia, voor de geinteresseerden onder us).

Meestal worden vakken als "overload" aangeboden omdat heel veel studenten dat vak nodig hebben, en dus heb ik nog nooit een overload vak gegeven waar minder dan 15 studenten in zaten. Ook dit semester heeft mijn vijfde vak bijna twintig studenten. Dus zou ik, volgens Bartjes dan, $2250 voor dat vak moeten ontvagen. Dat is geen vetpot als je bedenkt dat voor 1 vak 10 uur per week berekend wordt, en er 16 weken in een semester zijn, maar ach, "it is what it is" zoals ze hier zo mooi zeggen.

Maar goed, het probleem zit 'em dus in die "volgens Bartjes". Want wat heeft de leiding van de universiteit bedacht? Dat ze niet langer kijken naar hoeveel studenten er in het overload vak zitten, maar gewoon van alle vakken die jij geeft het vak nemen waarin het minste aantal studenten zitten, en op basis van dat aantal je overload pay berekenen.

Mijn minst volle klas is de "seminar", oftewel de afstudeerscriptie; daarin zitten momenteel 8 studenten. Als dit plan dus doorgaat, dan krijg ik dus $1200 betaald voor het overload vak waaraan twintig studenten deelnemen.

Ja, en dan gaan mijn principes dus wel opspelen, want volgens mij klopt dat ergens niet helemaal.

Natuurlijk kun je beredeneren, ja maar ja, dat vak is dus niet helemaal vol, en dus zou je, volgens Bartjes (daar is die kerel weer), minder dan tien uur per week aan dat vak besteden. En in een ideale troetelbeer wereld is dat ook helemaal waar. Maar ja, helaas leef ik niet in een troetelbeerwereld, en is het dus ook nog eens zo dat in de andere drie vakken die ik geeft, het maximum van twintig studenten met gemiddeld vijf overschreden wordt.

Dus.
Principes.
Daar heb ik nou een beetje last van. Want natuurlijk ga ik niet in een keer weigeren een vak te geven als studenten het nodig hebben om af te studeren. Maar ja, ik wil natuurlijk ook niet voor minder werken dan waar ik technisch gezien recht op heb.

En dat heet nou een dilemma.

Maar ja, maakt u zich niet druk hoor. Ik weet namelijk nu al hoe dit gaat aflopen, met die principes van mij. U ook?

Parking wars

Before I can rant about the parking war that is about to commence here on campus, you need to know two important facts that I've neglected to mention before:
1. Faculty and staff have to buy a parking permit in order to be able to park on campus, and
2. We have just bought a new car.

Regarding number 1, I would like the record to show that our campus does not lack parking space like a lot of urban campuses do. There is no driving around and around and around parking lots to find that one empty spot like you might have to do at other major universities. There is no "if you leave for lunch, you're out of luck" either, and really, parking down here is pretty good. It just costs you money. Which, considering the absolute abundance of parking spaces, really makes no sense. Well, it does if you consider that the university receives $35 annually from every employee, and that I'm sure that helps with the university budget, but last time I checked, I don't think it was my job to donate to that same budget. Anyway, I digress.

And regarding number 2, I know, I'm very excited. You might remember that husband-dear owns a truck. He loves that truck. I love that truck. It's ten years old, went all over Europe with us, and holds just about anything. But in recent months it's been, well, struggling. Husband-dear had to replace the radiator in the fall, and a few months ago, his car stopped dead on his way to work. Apparently, the alternator was in need of replacement too. That was when we decided we really needed a new car. The truck is our long-distance vehicle (as my car is really too small), and as neither one of us was thrilled at the idea of driving twelve hours with a truck whose parts are apt to stop at random, we knew the time had come to retire our trusty Dodge. Fortunately, and I really mean this (mainly because I'm a nostalgic old biddy), we decided to keep the old truck, to teach the kids how to drive (and also because husband-dear is as attached to that truck as I am). Anyway, all that aside, we are now the proud owners of a brand new Honda- CRV. It's new, it has XM radio, leather seats, as well as a towing package for our bicycle rack, and we are very happy.

Recently, husband-dear has once again demonstrated his awesomeness by letting me drive the CRV to work. Granted, during summer session, I only have to drive to work about once a week, but still. It's very cool. The CRV is infinitely more comfortable, cooler, faster, and it just makes me happy to drive it.

Enter the university police department.
Every time I've driven the car, I've followed the parking rules, stopped at the police department, and obtained a temporary parking permit. And every time, that went fine. Until today.

You see, today I was told I had exceeded the number of temporary parking permits allowed, and would have to buy an additional parking permit. In short, I would have to fork over another $35 to be allowed to drive another car to work.

Hell no.

Call me stingy, but the fact that I have to pay to be allowed to park at work is silly enough to begin with, I will not let the police department determine which car I am allowed to drive to work. This has to be some sort of infringement upon my basic, inalienable rights as a US citizen to drive whatever car I want to.

You'll be happy to know I didn't get upset with anyone at the police department. I have just sent out a string of angry emails to our dean (who agrees with me), and various member of the administration.

Perhaps I'm overreacting. Perhaps I should just pay the $35, and think of it as another tax write-off. But perhaps it really is as ridiculous as I think it is. What do you think?