My student loan is officially paid off

Originally scheduled to be complete in December of 2011, my student loan has officially sucked its last payment out of my bank account. With a final withdrawal of $27.36, I can kiss it goodbye forever. Hah!

I’m supposed to receive a Notice of Balance Paid in Full in about 10 days. I may frame it and hang it on the wall next to the degree it paid for. Tacky? Perhaps. Satisfying? You betcha.

A note to Chickie at Scotiabank: I called Christine at the National Student Loan Service Centre (NSLSC) yesterday. After giving her my account number and enough info to prove I was me, she graciously answered all of my questions about how to close out my loan, rather than acting as though she was doing me a favour by deigning to speak to me. She then gave me the option of waiting until the scheduled payment date of December 31st, or having her withdraw it immediately. Despite my not having a chequing account with them, she was still able to access my funds through a little technology some people call the Internet. Lo and behold, this morning my bank account was minus the exact amount she told me it would be, and when I checked the NSLSC website (which I can access all by myself), my account read a gratifying ‘Balance remaining = $0”. No need to wait for them to get around to acknowledging my payment. Christine also did not hang up on me, nor did she say anything rude. In fact, she congratulated me on paying off my loan, and wished me all the best in my future endeavours. You might consider learning a thing or two from Christine, but I have a feeling she’d have nothing to do with you.

Oh yeah. That was satisfying too. Though I should probably do something about this bitchy streak I seem to have before becoming a mother...

Christmas shopping finally underway

Whew. Finally getting on the ball and getting the shopping going. We bought a few children’s books for my niece and friend’s son while in Watertown on Saturday, as well as some cookies for Hubby’s grandfather which aren’t available in Canada.

Hubby also bought a Wii game for his Dad while I wasn’t looking. Apparently, despite his looking at the spreadsheet and repeatedly nodding approval of the budgeted amounts, I was the only one paying attention to the numbers:

“Oh, I got a video game for one of the presents in Mom and Dad’s basket. Dad will love it.”
“Great! How much was it?”
“$50.”
[awkward silence]
“What?”
“The budget for their whole gift was $60.”
“You should have told me that before.”
“I did tell you that before! You agreed!”
“I don’t remember that.”
“Of course you don’t.”

Last night we went to Chapters and got a few crosswords for my grandmother, some Hercule Poirot short stories on CD for Hubby’s Gran (who is blind), and some codebreaker puzzles for my Dad’s birthday. Hubby’s Gran’s present was significantly over budget, but the others were under and it worked out about even.

Tonight, we’ll be heading out to get the rest of the stuff for our parents’ baskets, including the baskets themselves. We won’t be able to completely recover from the Wii overspending, but we might be able to come close. If all else fails, we still have the $75 from the gifts we’re no longer buying our friends.

Tonight, I also get to go to the post office and pay some exorbitant amounts to get the kiddie books I bought to Toronto and Wisconsin on time because I was too tired and cranky to get my butt into gear a month ago. This is where the procrastination, which has occasionally served me well, comes back and bites me. Good thing my niece is in Toronto for Christmas. She actually lives in Australia, and I’d be totally S.O.L. getting it there on time.

Shopping report and a couple of notations to the people in charge

The shopping expedition to Watertown was a partial success: I found a couple of good deals on maternity clothes, but I was disappointed with the lack of selection. Books were much cheaper, which is obvious from the US prices stamped tauntingly on the covers up here. Large appliances were also less expensive. One of the couples we went with needs a new set for the house they’re buying in January. They took photos of the American fridge and stove prices for negotiating power up here later. “Well, I have a friend with a cargo van, so if you can’t do better than what you’re currently offering...”

Note to Canadian retailers: Learn something from your American counterparts. It is not necessary to have 87 people in line when you can open another cash.

Surprisingly, electronics, music and software were the same or more expensive than they are at home. And the fast food joint we stopped at was also pricier.

Note to American soft drink distributers: Try to get more variety in your non-caffeinated pop, er, soda. You have this substance called Sierra Mist, which was my only option, and quite repellent, though to be fair it may have been a faulty drink fountain. Also, Mountain Dew should not contain caffeine. I have spoken. ;)

It was a fun road trip, and gave us something different to do on a Saturday. We had a great time chattering in the car on the way down and back, including what seems to be a standard cell phone exchange for our group:

“Where are you guys?”
“About to cross the border.”
“Ack! You got ahead of us. We’ve stopped at Timmies.”
“Amateurs.”
“Wait for us once you’ve gone through customs.”
“What, you want us to pull off the road beside the border guards? That won’t look suspicious at all. Why don’t we just yell ‘Death to America!’ while we’re at it?”
“Finish crossing the river and then pull over.”
“I gave you a map. I’m pretty sure Watertown isn’t going to up and move while you buy a doughnut. Just meet us there.”
“We lost the map.”
“Of course you did. You realize I’m getting picked up by a US cell tower right now, which means this call is costing both of us approximately $7000 a second?
“Just pull over once you hit the mainland.”
“Fine.”

I also find it entertaining that people who live so close to each other and speak the same language can have such completely different accents. The entire pronunciation structure and speech pattern changes the second you step across the border. Coopon vs. Quepon. Hawkey vs. Ice Hackey. Fan-tas-tick vs. Faen-taes-tick.

Note to the Department of Transportation or whoever is in charge of the road planning in Watertown: Rip it all up. Start again from scratch. I have never seen traffic so horrendous in such a small town. Luckily the local people seem resigned and relatively polite about the whole thing. Can’t even blame cross-border shoppers for increasing the volume, ‘cause I didn’t see another Canadian plate the entire time we were there.

So, the summary of my vague and wandering report is: You can find good deals on a few things, but unless you’re only buying those things, and buying a lot of them, it’s better to just check the local flyers and shop at home.

How do you feel about cross border shopping?

We’re heading down to the States today with a few friends to do a little Christmas shopping. The timing seems ideal. The Loonie is still high, our local prices haven’t yet dropped, and the American ones haven’t yet risen in response to the sagging Greenback. I figure we can get a few good deals and have a bit of fun shopping in a new place. I’m also hoping the maternity wear selection will be better and cheaper.

That being said, I won’t be telling my parents we went.

Why? Mom and Dad have always been vehemently opposed to cross-border shopping. Well, opposed to Canadians shopping down South. They quite enjoy Americans bringing their money up here. Bit of a biased viewpoint, but understandable.

They have a few solid points, which apply no matter what border and which direction we’re talking about. Spending your money locally helps keep that money in the community. If you buy a gift from a local business owner, it helps keep him in business, which helps keep tax dollars and employment in your town. This is even true, though to a lesser degree, of shopping at the local outlet of a big chain store.

As an investment advisor in a small town, Dad was always very much aware of this. His clients were local. They were often local business people. If their profits were down, their available money for investing went down, and Dad’s paycheque went down. He was directly tied into the loop and he knew it.

Many others were also directly involved in that loop and for the most part, they knew it too. It was the ones who were indirectly tied to it that didn’t. The teachers and other government employees tended (and I’m generalizing here) to be the most active border crossers. They’re paycheques weren’t directly tied into the amount of money currently circulating in town. They were paid by the federal, provincial and municipal governments.

Ultimately, however, the prosperity of a town affects even them. If a business closes down, then those former employees have to look for work elsewhere. If enough of them leave, some of the schools will be closed due to the lack of kids, and government services will be cut back.

But cross-border shopping moves in cycles. When I was young, everyone crossed to the States to get better deals on things. When I was older and the Loonie took a dive down to 60-odd cents US, it was the other way around. Good deals could be found in Canada for Americans and their powerful dollar. Now it’s turned around again.

It might be said that it all evens out. It could also be argued that if we’re all equal, I shouldn’t matter where we spend our money.

I don’t go often, it’s probably been ten years, though that’s more to do with the currency exchange situation than anything else. I usually buy locally when I can, and I visit local chain stores when I can’t. I figure I can take the occasional trip across the border without too much guilt. I’m one of those indirect loopers, after all.

I still won’t be telling Dad.

What do you think? Would you cross a local border to save money, or is it taboo?

I have always relied on the kindness of strangers

Okay, that's a lie. I'm not Blanche DuBois. I don't rely on the kindness of strangers. I just really love it when it happens.

Inspired by Lynnae's post about the kind stranger who made her family’s Christmas when she was young, I thought I’d pass on another story of someone who went above and beyond. It’s not about buying gifts for less fortunate young ones, but it was sweet and much-appreciated.

It was during my first year away at university. I’d spent four months away, and I was looking forward to coming home for Christmas. I’d loaded all of my stuff on a train, including all my presents for everyone, as well as what was no doubt several weeks worth of laundry so I could take advantage of the parental washing machine.

I was exhausted. I’d been ‘studying’ for exams, I’d been shopping for gifts. I’d probably also been to a few too many holiday and end-of-term parties. I slept the whole way home on the train, waking just as it pulled into my home town’s station. I had to quickly gather up my things and dart off the train into the waiting arms of Mom and Dad.

What I didn’t notice until the car pulled into our garage was that I didn’t have my purse. It was still sitting on the train.

I called the local station to see what could be done, which at this point was nothing. The train had, of course, continued on its way. I’d have to call the lost and found in Toronto, which was its last stop, and hope for the best. I did so, and they told me they’d let me know if it turned up.

I spent the next couple of hours on hold with my bank and credit card companies, cancelling everything. If you’ve ever had to do so, you know how delightful it is...especially late at night on December 22nd.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me, an older man was examining my purse to determine where it came from. He was getting off in Toronto, and he dutifully took it in to the Lost and Found. They told him it would likely take at least a week to get the purse back to me, since it was such a rushed season, and that I’d have to pay for the expense of having it sent.

This is where I got really lucky. This older man was A) incredibly kind-hearted, and B) a retired CN worker. As such, he was entitled to free train rides within Canada. Appalled that it would take so long to return the purse, and apparently thinking of the panic this young girl (my driver’s licence with my date of birth was naturally in there) must be in, he took the early morning train heading in my town’s direction the next day.

It’s a pretty long trip from Toronto to the town where my parents live. He got off the train, turned my purse in, told the ticket teller that since his trip was free the least he could do was bring it to me, and then promptly hopped on the next train back to Toronto.

He wouldn’t leave his name. To this day I have no idea who he is.

The ticket agent called me. When Mom and I went to the station he told us the story as far as he knew it. I’d already cancelled my bank cards, but I no longer had to get a new driver’s licence, health card, birth certificate, etcetera, etcetera. Between not having to pay postage for the purse, and not having to pay to replace all my ID, he probably saved me a couple of hundred bucks. And all my cash was still in my wallet.

Mom took out a space in the Toronto Star to try to thank him. It’s doubtful he saw it, but I hope maybe he did. It was about 12 years ago now, so I don’t even know if he’s still alive.

I try to think about him every time I get cut off and given the finger in traffic, or hear about some nut somewhere who’s spouting hateful things. It helps me retain hope for humanity.

Photo from Guidepost Travel.