Discipline is Great? Being Debt Free.

Biceps and I have been on the path to becoming completely debt free. We aren’t credit card users and we have always bought our cars cash, but we do still owe on my student loans, our rentals and our personal home.

Using Dave Ramsey’s mortgage calculator, we trimmed our budget in order to accelerate our payoff schedules on each debt that we have (student loans, rent houses and our personal home).

Trimming our budget means opting for picnics instead of fancy dinners, watching limited basic cable on our 27″ ginormous old-school t.v. …

…sharing one car instead of buying a second dream car,

…me biking almost everywhere on this cheapo deapo bike…

…and finding cheaper ways to live (making my own face wash, facial moisturizer, lip balm etc).

This also means any improvement that I do on our home (i.e. redoing our living and dining rooms with these awesome colors), must be paid for by extra income or selling something in the house we no longer need.

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Lord willing, we will have my student loans paid off in two years…

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our rental houses paid off in four years…

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and our home paid off in six years.

This means that by the time we have one of these hooligans-our only bills will be electricity, water and cell phones. Which I am trying to figure out a way to get around paying for these, too.

I think I could live off of candle power, roof water and a tin can for a phone. Not sure about Biceps, though. He’s pretty pampered.

The reason that I’m telling you our financial goals is to help me maintain my motivation when I want to splurge on something. I will feel accountable to you and remind myself that it’s not part of The Plan.

I don’t really ever need another new shirt, a fancy bottle of wine or more camera equipment. What I need-truly need–is:
to “owe no man anything” and
to have ability to serve others with my time by becoming free from the enslavement of working to own something.

Barring any unforeseen circumstances, we will be completely debt free in 2018.

Discipline is tough when I want to spend but am the only one that can close the wallet. It’s sometimes embarrassing when everyone else wants to order drinks and we ask for water. However, the sacrifice and the discipline will be more than worth it when I write that last check to our bank.

And on the memo line of that last check, I will write-“It’s been interesting.”

Gross Things-Volume 1

For those of you who think I might keep a perfect house-it is now time for me to inform you that you are sadly mistaken. Over the next few days, I am going to get really real about what goes on in the Potholes and Pantyhose homestead.
Today, I am about to show you something that is rather embarrassing.

We have two very wonderful, but very furry kitties. I love the fur on their bodies. I don’t love it all over everything in my house. It’s gross.
But since they do super cute things like this, they are easily forgiven and doted over.

 

Change the scene to my sleeping habits. In typical girl fashion, I sleep under two extra blankets to Bicep’s one. Today was the day to wash aforementioned blankets.
I pulled what you see pictured here from my lint trap after blanket number one went through the dryer.

 

This is from one blanket. This is not built up over time. I clean out the lint trap with each load-I am totally anal about this.

 

This is disgusting. This is what I’ve been sleeping under.

 

This is pure fur.
The cats have managed to make a blanket for themselves out of their own fur.
It’s almost beautifully poetic, except that it is completely gross.

I almost didn’t show you this, for fear of judgement. But, it’s just too amazing though to keep to myself. I hope you enjoyed today’s “Gross Things-Volume 1”.

Don’t worry-there will be more Gross Things very soon.

From Midwest to Southwest…and back again

After the guys played a Music Festival late Saturday night, Biceps and I hopped into a tour bus and drove away…never to be heard from again. Unless you happen to read this blog or have contacted me by email, phone, text, facebook or twitter.
But other than that, almost no contact with the outside world.

This sweet little ride that has many miles under her belt. I have named her ‘Stripey Bus’. It’s pretty catchy, I know. I should probably look into trademarking the name.

Stir crazy after way too many hours on the bus, we vacated our ride to squat on a motel lawn, drinking wine from our red plastic cups.
We are the epitome of class.

But, as with most tours, it’s over before you know it. My only reminders of being away are photographs of the trip and a mountainous pile of mail waiting for me at home.
And a basketful of laundry.
And a wigged out cat.

At this point in the flight, I know it’s just a matter of minutes until I get to see my wigged out cat and feed him treats until his furry belly can take no more.

Things start to look familiar.

Even if they have burned to the ground.

Soon enough, I am here. I am home.
And I am probably making some sort of pizza. It’s become a rather anticipated and tasty tradition, marking the end of tour.