Who actually gives a car as a gift?

Two more days, folks. That's all we get until it's officially the mad rush for Christmas/winter holiday shopping. Okay, let's be honest -- it's all pretty much geared toward Christmas.


I'm not the biggest fan of crass commercialism to begin with. But the severe onslaught of ads are nearly painful. We're all pummeled with the commercials touting the latest stuff we need. (Perhaps most annoying is that so much of it does seem cool -- or at least enchantingly shiny.)


Still, I save my true hatred for the ridiculous luxury commercials. You know the ones: A husband surprises his wife with some pricey jewelry (ie, $500-1,000... or maybe more) or a shiny new Lexus or Mercedes. (It's never a Hyundai or Kia. I guess if you're going to go big, you should at least get some leather seats -- with seat warmers -- for your trouble.)


The jewelry, I guess I understand. I still think that's a lot of dough to put on one present (and it's never the only present the woman gets, is it?) but assuming you keep the price reasonable, I suppose you could sock away enough money over time to "surprise" her. Although I wonder if most men don't just put it on a credit card, like a true American, and worry about paying for it later.


The thing is, once you're a couple, it's hard to buy big presents without letting your spouse know just how much you spent. And that can be a bad thing. Especially if your spouse is as uptight about money as I am. (Tim, stop nodding!)


Of course, I have always kind of wondered about gift-giving in serious relationships. If you are pooling most of your resources, how much is your partner or spouse actually "buying" you a gift? It seems like (s)he gets all the good credit for purchasing something, even though it was probably bought with funds from both people.


I know that's terribly unromantic. Perhaps I'm just too much of a control freak (Tim, you're nodding again) to really enjoy a large "surprise" gift. I can't really imagine being 100% delighted by the notion that hundreds of dollars of our money got spent by you, without my getting any input -- and that I'm supposed to be grateful for it.


That's why I have a particularly hard time understanding the ads where a car sits in the driveway with a big bow on it.


The inner nit-pick in me piles on the practical concerns:

• How did it get there without her noticing?
  
• Wouldn't she have heard it pull into the driveway?
  
• Did the car company deliver it in the middle of the night?
  
• How would they know when she's asleep and it's safe?
  
• Does that mean the husband gets a walkie-talkie and gets to say things like "The bear is in hibernation" and "Roger" and "Over"?
  
• And, most importantly, who ties that bow, and how does it stay so perfect overnight?

But those are questions probably best left for another day. For now, let's keep the focus on finance, where the real puzzle is how anyone ever manages to surprise a partner with such a big purchase.


Yes, I know some couples have separate accounts. But does anyone keep accounts so separate that they can afford a down payment for a car -- let alone the whole cost -- without arousing suspicion?


Let's face it: More couples have joint accounts than separate ones. I really have no idea how you'd sneak out more than a thousand or two without arousing suspicion. Heck, in most households, getting more than $200 could land you in a pretty big argument.


Another thing to consider? You're not really buying a car. You're buying debt, albeit in a very attractive form. (And most debt won't get 0 to 60 so quickly! Unless you're talking about a credit card's APR.)


So all that money you spent on your thoughtful gift? That was just an introduction to more spending. In all likelihood, you just bought yourself at least two years' worth of monthly payments. Plus your insurance will go up since you have a new car.


Oh, and let's not forget the leverage lost when the salesman finds out it's a gift. If you're buying something that important, you're probably sticking to one specific car type that your partner wants. That means the salesman knows you're unlikely to walk away.


It also means you'll be hard pressed to deny a lot of the extras. No one really wants to say, "Merry Christmas! Look how generous I am! Oh, but on-board GPS was extra so I told them not to bother."


So to sum up:

1. You just took thousands of dollars away from our other goals.
2. You spent money that we earned together.
3. You didn't let me in on the bargaining process
4. You didn't have many bargaining options, so you probably didn't get a great deal.
5. You've increased our overall debt levels.
6. And now we have to add monthly payments to our budget.

And you want to get credit for this as a good thing?




Has anyone ever even met a person who got a car as a present? Does this kind of thing really happen? And what's the biggest gift you ever got from a partner or spouse?

What lower prices?

It's not just economists who are insisting the recession is over. As many of you have probably heard, Social Security recipients won't be receiving a cost-of-living adjustment (COLA) this year. This is a first in 35 years.


So what heralded this change? Why, it's simple: Prices are going down. Or so says the equation that determines the COLA.


My only question: Where, exactly, are these lower prices?


Looking through the grocery store, I don't see much of a change. All that packaging that got smaller, while prices remained the same (or worse)? Still small. The prices? Still big.


There are plenty of food sales that make prices seem lower. And if you can catch those sales, you can definitely eat cheaply. But most of these tactics were around during boom times, as well. They just had fewer fans.


So where are these lower prices that made the COLA equation believe that seniors and people with disabilities could get more bang for their buck? Simple: Non-necessities.


Sure, you can get a great deal. If you go shopping, the stores practically roll out a red carpet. Everything's on sale, all the time -- because it has to be. People have finally clamped their wallets shut on a lot of unnecessary spending. They are occasionally lured in by a good sale, but they're wary and ready to bolt if things get too pricey.


Merchandisers aren't the only ones clamboring for people, either. Restaurants are flogging meal specials -- usually in the realm of 2 for $20. It's hard to walk past a bar or club without tripping over a happy hour special. Salons and spas are in on the act, too. Not many people can find room for $60-70 massages (plus tip). So there are introductory offers everywhere. Anything to get you in the door and familiar with their level of service.


So, yeah, there are great opportunities for specials that will stretch your dollar. But -- and here's the acid test -- how many of these places are patronized by senior citizens and other people on restricted budgets?


I'm sure that some seniors and people with disabilities pop into Chili's, Outback and TGIFriday's, but those folks aren't exactly the target audience, are they? People living on truly fixed incomes -- under $20,000 per person per year -- aren't going out to eat much at all. And how many seniors do you know who go to bars and clubs? Meanwhile most SS disability recipients are unable to work more than part-time. (If you earn more than $980 a month, you stop receiving benefits.) That means they're probably not healthy enough to go out a lot either. Trying to work around a disability, I can assure you, takes a lot out of you.


Yes, everyone needs clothes and shoes at some point. But these are people who know how to make do and how to do without. They shop at thrift stores or, at the very least, huge sales -- and they come armed with coupons. There are always cheap shoes to be had at places like Big 5, Target, Wal-mart, or on various store clearance racks.


But what about things you can't avoid? You can be careful about utilities usage -- turn off the lights, use the thermostat less, take quicker showers -- but you can't avoid it completely. And I've yet to hear about those prices lowering. (If anyone does know of a case, please feel free to correct me!)


In some areas, rents have lowered overall. But mostly it's just a proliferation of specials. While this can help minimize rent, you still have to be free of a lease and have good credit. In addition, the better offers are usually from the nicer communities. If you're just going for affordable rent, you won't get much of a break. And all the recent foreclosures mean a lot of renters on the market. It's a mixed bag. Oh, and let's not forget that you have to be able to save up a deposit -- if not first and last month's rent plus deposit. Could you do that on $1,000 a month?


If they're lucky, seniors will have their own homes. Then they are only responsible for insurance and property taxes. Both of those keep increasing, although some people have at least gotten a tax break as their house values plummet. If you rely only on Social Security payments, that could easily account for 1/3 of your income. And you better hope that no events cause you to need your homeowners' insurance. That will just increase your premiums.


Meanwhile, gas prices are back on the rise, assuming you have a car. If you don't, you can get discount fares on buses -- assuming the transit is any good where you are -- but even those costs will go up, especially as gas prices keep increasing.


Groceries can be gotten cheaply, of course, if people shop the right sales and stock up whenever possible. Of course, if you do this by car, it can mean more gas, as you shop at various stores for what you need, and perhaps make multiple trips to truly amass a full pantry. If you have to do it by bus, you're looking at a lot more problems and a lot more physical work. And all those sales are still based on smaller packages and/or higher prices.


And let's not even get into all the doom-and-gloom predictions of runaway inflation -- which would mean we actually get less for our dollar, not more. Even if the dollar does recover, there's absolutely not guarantee that the recovery will last. In fact, it seems that every proclaimed recovery -- in dollars and stocks -- is followed by uncertainty or even reversals. So what if the dollar plunges in the last half of the year? What do seniors do then, besides wait for the next COLA determination?


So, to recap:

• There are lower prices -- but almost exclusively in items that most seniors and people on disability do without. There are food and drink specials, but most of the Social Security population don't make it out to bars and clubs, or even too many restaurants.

• On the other hand, basic costs of living, such as groceries, rent/property taxes, utilities and transportation, keep increasing.
  

• The dollar is fluctuating and a lot of people are predicting inflation -- runaway or otherwise. Any recovery that does happen, may not last.
  

• Seniors and people on Social Security disability are getting more for their money, which is why they don't need any cost-of-living adjustment in the coming year.
  

Can anyone explain this to me? I don't speak bureaucrat.

Free rent, the sleazy way

Photo by extremeezine

While perusing the Phoenix housing ads, I stumbled on this little tidbit (twice now!) and I thought it should be shared.

Hi, I've got a room across from the Glendale Community College campus with access to pools, jacuzzi, tennis/racquetball courts etc... I'm offering Free Rent + Utilities in exchange for "Personal Services". The room is unfurnished, but furniture may be arranged for the right roommate. During the fall and spring semesters I both go to school and work full time, I'm in my mid twenties and I'm not hung up on ethnicity, I'm just looking for someone laid back and preferably 420 friendly :-) so if you're interested then by all means drop me a line, I'd love to hear from you {^_^}

Okay, of course, I'm not advocating selling yourself for free rent. There's also a reason that this ad continues to be up: No woman has called just begging to take the place. But it's an interesting reminder that we all have a lot more options to make or save money than we admit to.


We think about things like a second job, selling off items around the house or cutting all meals out. Once that stuff has been exhausted, we tend to assume we've done everything we can. That's not true. Instead, we've done everything that we're willing to consider.


Again, I'm not saying that every woman should consider selling herself -- de facto or literally. It does, however, raise an interesting question about our options as we see them. Dog Ate My Finances actually talked a bit about this in a rant about how people see themselves as having fewer options than they actually do. In fact, most of us have more choices than we let on, or perhaps even realize. (This is something Dog pointed out to me once in comments. While I still don't love the way she generalized some things, she does have a point about the choices we make -- often without realizing it.)


Point being, if some woman is really having a hard time making ends meet, would this be such a bad thing? Maybe she's easygoing about sex. God knows, men don't exactly tend toward picky, but if women act even a quarter as cavalierly as men they get called sluts. Or maybe she meets the guy and decides he's someone she'd probably consider sleeping with anyone. So, at least now, she gets free rent rather than a couple of drinks bought for her. Or maybe she's just really can't afford rent and this is her best bet at keeping a roof over her head. No matter what the scenario, I guess I wonder why it's a big deal. Why most of us -- myself included -- have that initial reaction of disgust. It's really just another example, if an intimate one, of bartering.


After all, you could argue that this situation isn't all that different from others where sex is involved. A lot of women stay in unhappy relationships/marriages because they can't (or believe they can't) survive financially on their own.


At least here, the woman might find the guy tolerable. She also wouldn't experience the resentment that builds as a relationship founders. Nor would she have to mourn the loss of "happily ever after." There'd be no starry-eyed idealism about that in the first place.


Yet, for some, that makes the situation that much worse.


This sort of thing fascinates me. I suppose it's because our knee-jerk reactions tend to be based on societal norms. This is especially true of anything that smacks of prostitution.


I know the arguments against it: it's demeaning, dangerous, etc. But is that the act itself, or the conditions created because the act is illegal? I don't ever want to sell my body, but I also don't think we have a right to tell a woman she can't sell hers.


But back to the main point of this piece: What you are willing to do to get or save money is very different from what you can do.


You could sell illegal drugs or steal cars to sell to chop shops. These things are illegal though, and even if you're not worried about getting caught, you probably have ethical problems with these. I don't think marijuana should be illegal, for example, but I'm not willing to risk jail time to sell it. And I have far too active a guilt complex to steal things.


You could sell items that are of great sentimental value. But if you have a steady job, then it's usually not worth the sacrifice. For example, I have a couple of pieces that my grandmother gave me before she died. Even when the jewelry market was better, I didn't want to sell them. I would, if it became necessary, but I prefer to pay down debt more slowly and keep these.


You could sell every scrap of furniture in your house, but most of us would rather pay off debt more slowly and be comfortable in the interim. While Tim and I are slowly winnowing down our possessions, we are putting most of the furniture sales off until closer to the move date. Even so, we will take the bed, the couch, and a dresser with us; the items are more expensive to replace than to move. That said, if we did get a caretaking job that meant free rent but just a single room, I would sell off the couch before we left.


You could eat the cheapest food available. I'm not talking junk food with coupons, though that sometimes qualifies. I'm talking rice and beans, chili with rice and tortillas, chicken and then boil the chicken carcass for stock for chicken soup later. My mom still mainly eats things like this. She gets very sick of leftovers at times; but the meals are simple, easy to cook and cheap. Most of us want a little more variety in life and cuisine. Most of us would rather keep going out to eat at least on occasion. So we find room in the budget for it.


You could sell everything except the absolute, bare essentials. Most of us are unwilling to live this way on purpose, though. When I was an infant, my mom was single and working as a clerk. She had just enough clothes to get through the week. She'd wash them on the weekend and start again. Three decades later, in some debt from a divorce, she didn't go back to that lifestyle. She did buy pretty much exclusively from thrift stores and had a bunch of my old shirts -- as in, high school castoffs -- for wearing around the house. Still, as much as she hates debt and worries about money, she was unwilling to go back to near-deprivation to cope.


I guess it simply boils down to what you are willing to do for money. And a lot of that, I think, is predicated on your situation. Some people consider sacrifice to be taking their kids out of private school. For others, it's about getting a second job. There's a wide range of choices -- so much so that we often don't realize how many choices we rule out automatically.


So ask yourself: What have you automatically ruled out? What is an absolute no, and what are you willing to reconsider?

Debt first, kids later?

Last Saturday, Tim and I went to finally meet the newest addition to our friends' family. His name is Eli, he's 4 months old and absolutely adorable.


When we arrived, though, we were shocked to find that our friends' friends, who we'd met on several occasions, had their own little, 7-week old bundle of joy. Also seriously adorable.


Tim admired the kids, and we got to catch up with two other friends we hadn't seen in months. I spent a lot of time trying to squelch girly noises and hit snooze on my biological clock. (I actually remarked, as we were leaving, that it would have been nice if the boys had been a little fussier, so I could feel better about having decided to wait for kids.)


The thing is... Tim and I definitely want a kid. But not right now. First of all, we both agreed that we wanted some time as husband and wife before jumping in to parenthood. Also, we want to have gotten rid of our credit card debt.


At one point during the get-together, the father of the 7-week-old asked if my biological clock was ticking. I explained our philosophy about debt. Later, we ended up repeating it for his wife. The father laughed and said, "In other words, they'll never have a kid."


Ouch.


There was a pause, and I smiled graciously and explained that we were well on our way to paying off our debt. It was simply taking longer because Tim couldn't work and I can't earn a lot by working part-time.


It was all chuckled away and clearly he meant no harm by it, but I have to wonder about the age-old wisdom that you can never truly afford kids. I've had this argument with a few people, and frankly I find these attitudes terrifying.


Obviously, accidents happen. And if Tim and I were to find ourselves as impending parents, we'd figure it out somehow. But we also try to be careful so that we don't have to struggle any more than we already do.


So, by and large, I guess I am simply stumped as to why people are so laissez-faire about the idea that you should create a whole new large financial strain on your budget before you're out of the bulk of your debt. (Of course, children are far more than a financial burden -- or a tax write-off as we all like to joke -- but the fact remains that the lil buggers are expensive!)


Perhaps it's only because we're already low-income people, but Tim and I don't want to equate parenthood with severe financial distress. We don't want to add to existing credit card debt and then wonder how and when we'll ever be able to get that number down.


For me, the jury is still out on whether you can ever, truly, afford kids. My non-parent attitude is hell yes. People do it every day. I'm not saying you can live as lavishly as before, still I know that there are couples like Eli's parents who can even make the choice to go down to a single income. (To be fair, Eli's dad recently got an excellent position in a large, stable tech company; and that was after being given a large severance package by his old firm.)


I had this argument back at age 21, when a friend announced she and her new husband would be trying to have a kid within the next year. They both came from big families, both with parents who started young. So they both felt it would be "weird" to hit 23 or 24 without having a kid. I should mention that, at this point, she was working as a receptionist in a car dealership while her husband pursued his PhD.


Of course, she is and was a frugal gal, so they made it work. At least, as far as I know. We've fallen out of contact, by and large. I know that, a couple of years ago, he got his degree. At least initially, though, most non-teachers have to do a year or two of low-paying work to get any real credentials. I'm sure, too, that having a wife and child certainly helped his financial aid package. Still, I just don't understand the desire to start a family amid that much debt.


Perhaps it's just that I was raised very middle-class, with parents who were financially comfortable. Perhaps it's because so many people on my mom's side of the family have kids young, then spend the next 18 years (or more) struggling to pay for everything. Or perhaps I'm simply being practical. Whatever the reason, I can't picture having a kid while we owe thousands of dollars.


Obviously, Tim and I are a special case, since our earning potential is probably lower than most people's. In other words, being overly cautious will probably save us, financially.


But what about a sterotypical couple? Am I being too idealistic about finances and kids? Do you think anyone can ever truly afford a child? Has anyone made $10,000+ of debt and kids work, without a lot of strain and stress?


(And, on a completely different note, the cutest onesie ever? Eli's black, cotton number, with a iPod on it with the words "iPooped" on the screen.)

Financial infidelity

Photo by Kathryn,

For awhile, I had a hobby that involves collecting. I still have my collection, but I'm trying not to spend much to expand it. In fact, I had to stop participating on a related message board. I loved the people on there, but it just fueled my materialism. Badly.


There are days when I miss the community. It was all women, from teens to grandmothers. Many of the members were collectors along with their daughters, which helped them bond. It was a lot of fun to chat with women across the country and, sometimes, world. They were all very supportive and interesting.


There was really only one thing about the board that galled me. A decent chunk of the women talked openly about lying to their spouses. We're not talking about adultery, of course. But they would hide their spending, which I found mind-blowing. Frankly, I still do.


I guess I'm naive, but I grew up with the assumption of joint accounts. While, of course, I'm a firm believer that one person should be financial head of household, I always sort of assumed that both partners would be on the same page. That means being aware of purchases and credit card amounts.


Apparently, some of these women didn't agree. They went so far as to "lol" about it in messages and posts. They treated it as simply another detail in life. Get the kids off to school, answer some email, get groceries, and buy something without hubby finding out.


Their nonchalance may actually have been worse than the lying. At least a few had the decency to be sheepish about their spending. They would admit to spending money they shouldn't have and seem unhappy about the idea of having to hide the purchase. They would at least, then, pay lip service to cutting down on their buying.


Even so, there always seemed to be an air of self-absolution. As though sneaking around behind their partners' backs was excusable because it was about consumption. As though it were no big deal, because their husbands were grumpy about spending. (Which, for all I knew, they could have every right to be.)


Most of them, though, were pretty open about the deceit. They would talk about putting the items away in the closet, among holiday and birthday gifts. That way, they could claim they had bought it for a daughter. (Bringing your kids into it? Really?)


A couple of women I resold items to had me send them the tracking code. This way, they'd be there to intercept the package. Their husbands would never see it and so would never ask what it was or how much it cost. Frankly, it made me a little queasy to do transactions like that.


Other board members would joke about hiding things in plain sight. They would simply add it to the collections they had on display. On the (very) off-chance a husband noticed it, the women would claim it had been there for ages. I got the impression they'd go so far as to laugh and tell hubby he wasn't very observant.


I mean, I can kind of understand not disclosing a purchase. Okay, not really understand. But I guess it is more conceivable to me to not mention a buy (and just hope it goes unnoticed) than to flat-out lie to your partner's face.


These women went to pretty good lengths to disguise their buying. It made me wonder about their finances and why they had to be so secretive. Were they deeply in debt? Could they just not stop spending? Were they supposed to be saving for some shared goal?


Granted, I've never been a stay-at-home mom. Or a mom at all, for that matter. Some of these women worked outside the home, others had home-based businesses and others were full-time stay-at-home moms. Perhaps they had too much time to wander the net and find things they shouldn't buy. It can be a danger of web surfing, for sure. I've found a zillion "dream" items: shoes, jewelry, collectibles, etc.


Just overall... If I have to work that hard to hide purchases (assuming it's not a gift for Tim) I'm going to take that as a sign that something's not right. Call me a goodie-two-shoes. Or naive. I think it's more about being financially sane.


I think for some of these women, it was almost out of their control. They felt compelled to complete collections, to get the things that they thought they needed. Except that there will always be more things (especially thanks to eBay) and new items coming out.


Actually, for me, that's what keeps me from spending sprees. By and large, you buy a lot of things beause there are so many items you want and think you need. You're trying to stop that feeling that there's something out there you don't have. But I know that, even if I were to get everything my little heart desired, within a couple of months, I'd find more. It would never be finished. I would never be done, no matter how much I spent. Really, that goes for any category of buying, I think.


So I guess I'm lucky that I didn't fall into the trap. Just another case of low-income status being a good thing, I suppose. It really dispels the notion that you can just do a whirlwind of shopping and be done forever.


Still, I'm left with the question: Why did these women act this way? I mean, can you really hide your purchases from your partner like that? Does it really work? Wouldn't the husbands notice the missing funds, the lower account balance or the higher credit card bill?


Even if they could get away with it in the short term -- perhaps they were in charge of balancing the checkbook and paying bills -- I cannot imagine how it could work out over a longer period of time. How long, really, can you keep a lie going? Or keep such a bad habit a secret?


I mean, what's the best case scenario here? That they lied about spending because they were embarrassed by their excess? Maybe, then, you should focus on that as a sign that something's wrong. More likely, they weren't supposed to be spending the money for budgetary reasons. So they were sabotaging their own finances.


Probably, the women weren't thinking that far ahead. Clearly, they also weren't thinking about just how big a violation they were perpetrating on their spouses.


They were not just betraying their husbands financially. They were also betraying their husbands' trust. They were actively trying to obscure the truth, whether it was by not talking about a buy, lying about costs or actually hiding purchases. These women were putting in jeopardy the basic trust that is so important to keeping a marriage healthy.


If partners can't trust each other, how can they live together? How can they find common ground?


The fact is, these women were unfaithful to their husbands. It was financial infidelity but infidelity all the same. This habit of theirs was destructive and, frankly, dumb. I know there are plenty of rationales. Some of them might even be convincing, but I very much doubt that any of them are worth losing your spouse's trust.



Have you ever lied about a purchase to your partner? Have you ever had a partner lie to you? Why do you think people do this?

Do you have to play 'bad guy'?

Photo by Phoebe Baker

As I've mentioned before, different financial attitudes can be hell on a relationship. It definitely caused a lot of strife in our apartment.


It was definitely hard on our relationship for a long time. Tim was the spender; I was the saver. Even after he "converted" to frugality, Tim was rarely active about saving money.


Early on, I suggested that I take over the finances. He definitely didn't protest. He'd never felt good with money, but he also had never felt able to change it. So my offer was a blessing. He let me assume responsibility and never looked back. Which was part of the problem.


In abdicating financial control, Tim took all the responsibility off of himself. He stopped worrying about budget or money left in the account. It's not that he stopped considering them. He still checked with me to okay a purchase. In fact, he checked with me about almost all purchases.


In other words, I became the parent. I had to say yea or nay to just about everything. He didn't really filter. If he thought of something he wanted, he would inevitably ask me if we could get it. It was like being in a toy store with a five year old kid. Kids don't really know anything about finance. They know what they want. And they know that parents have the decision on whether to buy or not.


So I was "the heavy." I had to constantly veto his ideas, reminding him that we were saving money. Or that we couldn't afford it. Or that we could find it cheaper elsewhere. It was exhausting.


It was also hard on me overall. I don't like denying Tim things. And his seemingly constant stream of permission-asking made me feel like all I ever did was say no to him. Even if he didn't see it, which he mainly didn't, it was hard on me psychologically.


I felt backed into a corner: either I deprived him or I hurt the budget. Neither is very palatable, as options go. Because of this pressure, I found myself caving more often. I would say yes simply because I felt I couldn't take saying no one more time. Later, though, I'd be angry at myself for not standing firm; and I would resent Tim for putting me in that kind of lose-lose situation.


Eventually, I did get Tim to see that I was in an untenable situation. It took a lot of arguments and a lot of attempts on my part to verbalize what was wrong. As a result, he did start policing himself more. A lot more, actually. Nowadays, he usually runs something through his own frugal filter before checking with me. The "can we" questions have definitely gotten fewer and farther between, at least.


The change has made a huge difference in my stress level. I don't feel like a mean parent, anymore. Now, when Tim has a question about spending, I feel like I'm talking to my partner about finance. Not telling a kid he has enough toys already.


I think that the "bad guy" role is an easy trap for couples to fall in. Even when it's not a spender/saver meld, one partner is usually more frugal than the other. When people with two different standards come together, something has to give. If each of you are judging the other by your own benchmarks, no one ends up happy.


What about your relationships -- past or present? Have you ever felt like the bad guy? Or have you ever felt that your spouse was depriving you unnecessarily?

Sometimes, it's just about making progress

Photo by Andy Carter

Budgets Are Sexy recently asked, How do you measure your own financial success? There were a lot of answers -- and there are probably plenty more that haven't appeared yet. Some people admitted that they measure themselves by their peers, how much debt they pay off, and plenty of others.


I had a slightly different perspective.


For obvious reasons, Tim and I can't measure ourselves against our peers. Most of our friends can work full-time. Few have chronic health problems that create constant medical bills. So it would be a terrible idea for us to compare ourselves to them.


I am often tempted to gauge our success by the amount of debt we pay off. But most months we're lucky to pay off $500. And with that $500 medical bill to pay off and some unexpected expenses (replacement sneakers, clothes that fit, etc), this month will probably be smaller than normal.


So for me, I usually have to concentrate on the fact that we're making any progress at all. It's not easy. There are plenty of times that I'm maddened by how slowly we have to chip away at the debt.


To remind myself that we are making progress, I got a white board awhile ago. This way, whenever we make a payment, I get to physically erase the old total and write the new, lower one down. (It's also a great reminder that the debt exists, when you feel like going on a crazy shopping spree or that LCD TV beckons with its siren song.)


It's a good way to actually feel that we're making a difference. Yeah, the amount of that difference probably won't be anything close to what I'd prefer. But it is cathartic to see that number decrease, however slowly.


How do you measure your financial success? What tricks do you use to keep your debt reduction efforts going strong?

How do your emotions affect your spending?

After graduating high school, my cousin came up to Anchorage for college. She had almost nothing in her bank account, despite the fact that she had worked nearly full-time for the last two to three years.


Her excuse? When she felt bad, she would go shopping.


As a result, she started college with an empty bank account and a full closet.


While she did later become frugal, my cousin's problem was pretty obvious, even to her. She thought bad feelings could be solved with stuff. She let her emotions rule her spending.


But don't we all do this, to some extent?


Have you ever had your defenses lowered by stress -- been zapped of any and all will to pinch some pennies? Or, perhaps, the reverse is true and you hold on too tightly to your money.


A few months ago, another relative took me out for a bite to eat and our talk turned to my blog and money overall. She confided that her online savings account was up to well over $10,000. At that time, a few banks were offering 4-5% return on promotional CDs, so we discussed the possibility of a CD ladder.


This led to a talk about how she should do something like that. But part of her panics at the thought of taking money out of savings. Logically, she knows that, even in a crisis, she could get by until the CDs began maturing. To feel safe, though, she needs money to be plentiful -- and instantly accessible.


She acknowledged this duality and said it was partially due to being over 50, yet not having nearly enough saved for retirement. Money has always been important for her to feel secure, but the prospect of poverty in later years -- when she couldn't work -- really terrified her.


That's when I asked if she had maxed out her IRA contributions for '08 yet. She hadn't. I pointed out that, since she has a Roth, this was the best of both worlds: Her funds would be accessible, but her profits would grow tax-free over the next 10+ years.


She shook her head, incredulous that such an obvious idea had escaped her. But I didn't find it surprising at all. When it comes to money, she doesn't think so much as feel.


It's a pretty common human trait. In fact, I would bet that just about everyone has some illogical, knee-jerk reaction to money. It's ingrained in us.


When I'm exhausted, sick or experiencing deeper depression, I tend to spend more. It's not just the fact that frugality often takes effort. It's also that, when I don't feel well, I want comforting things: a certain food from a favorite restaurant, pricey junk food, or simply a good time out with my husband.


Part of me seems to believe that things can make me happy. While it's true that a favorite dish or a night on the town can be a good time, neither solves the inherent problems I'm trying to address: illness, exhaustion or depression.


On the other hand, when I'm well I tend to flinch at spending any money. Whether it's popcorn at the movies (which we get into free) or some nice cheese that will make Tim happy, I feel like every cent should be going to our debt.


From my current point of view, the ultimate security lies in being debt-free. So, I can already foresee trouble when, in the future, it comes time to invest. My first order of business will always be to fund retirement. But beyond that? Ordinary investments are going to be a debacle. I am highly risk averse and extremely prone to worry. CDs are at least safe, but sometimes I wonder if it's worth locking up that money for such relatively small amounts. (I know, I know. There's no pleasing me.)


In the meantime, while we still have debt, my frustration tends to be about our slow progress. Just the other day, Tim had to talk me down from a fit of misery. I had to leave enough in the bank for his insurance premium and for our rent, which left me enough to pay some basic expenses and nothing more. It was the second week in a row that our credit card debt was untouched.


I felt like an utter failure. Clearly, I wasn't pulling hard enough on the financial reins. It wasn't that we had to keep out a combined $1200 to pay for rent and insurance. Nope, it was a deep-seated flaw in me. I hadn't said "no" often enough, to my and Tim's "wants." It couldn't possibly be that living on $3100 is precarious, even for two healthy people. It must be my fault.


Tim was able to convince me I was being too hard on myself. He pointed out how far we've come. How he would still owe on student loans if not for me. How he never could have afforded his oral surgery and dentures if not for my financial know-how. How this was a tough period and next week we'd be able to pay down some debt.


I do so hate it when he uses logical arguments to defeat a perfectly good blind, emotional reaction.


Because once you're out of the situation, the whole thing seems pretty bewildering. Why did I automatically blame myself when I know I'm doing my absolute best? Why do I always let those feelings take such a strong hold?


But while you're in the emotions' chokehold, it all makes perfect sense. As far as you're concerned, you're being perfectly logical. Or, perhaps you know you're overreacting, but can't do anything to stop it. Either way, you get swept up in the moment -- and the rationale, whether it's rational or not.


So look at all your financial plans: the budgets, the list of debts, the thought of spending (both necessary and frivolous). See how you react to each of these. Think back to moments when you slipped out of frugality mode -- or when you slid to the complete "penny pinching miser" end of the frugal spectrum. Think about the catalysts. Figure out what's behind those emotions.


We can try to be logical about money, using budgets and savings plans and plenty of frugal hacks. But until we understand 1) that we react to certain stimuli in an irrational manner and 2) why we react that way, we will never be truly financially wise.


Because I define financial wisdom as the ability to lead a full life. One that isn't consumed by debt, but neither is it consumed by some primal, grasping fear at the prospect of parting with even a single cent.



How do your emotions affect spending? What techniques do you use to minimize their impact? Have emotions ever affected your spending in a positive way?

Why aren't we a target audience?

I'm in a mood.


I sat down at the computer this afternoon and caught up on some PF blog reading. Unfortunately for those on my blog list I was a little easily rankled today and left a few slightly snarly comments.


The one that really got me going was the review of the book You're Broke Because You Want to Be.


I get that the vast majority of Americans reading PF blogs are the ones who got there through overconsumption, etc. But, man, I just get tired of never being in the target audience.


This guy's book has a catchy title and attitude sells. I get that. But what about those of us who did (almost) everything right?


I'm not claiming to be perfect. I chose Tim, knowing he was impulsive by nature. That manifested itself in a lot of small purchases that added up fast. And I even chose to let myself get carried away in that spirit from time to time, so that I could justify a few shirts or whatever from Macy's.


For the record, I consider a shopping "spree" to be, well, anything over $20. But the instances I'm referring to were around $100-150 each. Still irresponsible. But the inner-grouch in me points out that lots of people spend that much each month on coffee drinks.


At any rate, we're not well-off. Anyone who has read any of my posts about our life know that. We're living on $3,098 a month, and Tim's insurance (which is lower than his COBRA) is $336 each month. Our rent is $700. Then there are doctor's visit co-pays $15 each, at least two a month. And the $500 deductible the new insurance has. And medications (my energy pills are $107 per month when bought in 3-month bundles).


Still, we're doing our level best to chip away at the debt, even as more expenses pop up right and left.


And since I spend so much energy on not going stark, raving mad from the sheer, endless onslaught of life's steady progression, well... It is easy to get sick of these books' bland blandishments. Catchy phrases sell books, but there are no pithy summations for people like Tim and I. (At least, none that I can think of at present.)


Perhaps the worst part about these books is that you start to feel so universally left out. You're told to cut your coffee drinks. Never had a taste for the stuff. Downgrade to basic cable. I was already there. Shop supermarket sales. Doesn't everyone do this anyway?


You start to feel so alone, because these books ignore that some people aren't in debt from the choices they make. Unless the uber-conservatives want to go a step further and start calling disability a lifestyle choice.


Yet I know there are lots of people in this country on disability. Or low-wage earners who have to fight to stay out of debt. But all we ever seem to hear are the sob stories from reformed spendaholics.


What about those of us who never got to have that fun in the first place? What about those of us who are just struggling to survive life, rather than survive our own personal-finance blindness? How do we keep going? How do we find corners to cut?


Why isn't anyone speaking to us?


Well, the answer is simple: We never so much as clear our throats, much less ask a question.


Until we start getting ticked off -- okay, so I'm already there but I was always a fast learner -- and start making ourselves a target audience, of course the sector will be overrun by spoiled spenders.


So far as I've found yet, I'm the only disability/PF blog combo. And I only started because I was pissed off that no one else had!


Why aren't we talking to these brilliant PF gurus? Why aren't we saying, "No, we're not lazy! We're not spending stupidly! Now what else have you got for us?"


I don't even think they've much considered our situations when they write their books. Because, really, why would they?


Suze Orman said that she rewrote her rules for Young, Fabulous and Broke only after a friend's daughter told her point-blank that her advice didn't apply to the current generation. That the rules were different. Orman thought long and hard and then started writing for this new population.


We're never going to get answers until we ask a question. And my voice shouting into the void of the blogosphere probably isn't enough to do it. Even with nepotism and intrigue, I'm still a newbie blogger who has a ways to go before she can be called "popular."


So what are we to do, folks? Or, rather, since I'm doing my part: What are you going to do?


Because if I have to read one more debt book putting the blame on my indulgent lifestyle, I may actually have to start screaming.