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Archive for the ‘Life Experiences’ Category

A reader shared that she is planning on taking a trip to Yellowstone National Park over the summer and asked for advice on how to save money on flights.

Other than recommending obsessively monitoring every online travel search engine (Bing, Travelzoo, Kayak) for months and doing a faux mystical rain dance to evoke the flight sale gods, I’m a bit short on good advice.

I always avoid summer travel since its peak rate season so I’m not much help.

Do any of you know the best way to buy a summer flight?

I opened my trunk over the weekend to put in some groceries and saw a box of gloves and some wiping cloths. I asked my husband if they were his and he stared at me blankly. “Nope. Not mine.” he replied.

I thought perhaps the auto guy left them behind and I didn’t want him to miss the gloves so I drove to his house down the street to drop them off. When I showed him the gloves, he gave the same look my husband did. “No. Not mine.”

I checked with my brother. They weren’t his either.

‘NATURALLY’, I assumed they belonged to the guy who keeps breaking in to my car. Great. Now the guy is not only stealing from me, he’s framing me for other crimes. I could see myself on trial, “Yes your honor, those gloves and wiping cloths were in my possession and were identical to the ones used to commit the crime but I swear, someone put them in my car.” My brother suggested I take the box to the police for finger printing (clearly we share active imaginations and we watch too much CSI).

I called my husband and told him I was now terrified the thief won’t leave me alone. “He is taunting me!” I yelled. “He’s still in my car! What’s next? A parking ticket from Tijuana? A speeding ticket from Compton?! A stocking cap?!?”

“OK. So, maybe the gloves are mine.” he said trying not to snicker too loudly.

Turns out, my husband didn’t want me to know he was in my trunk because he noticed the small tool kit I bought him for his birthday and didn’t want to hurt my feelings since he saw it too early. He didn’t think I would actually try to return the gloves to the mechanic nor did he think I would question my brother about it and consider police involvement.

If I blow my debt out of proportion as much as I did the gloves, I think I’m in pretty good shape.

And yes, hubby apologized profusely.

I set up the spare bedroom for ‘Murphy’. Apparently he’s planning to be here for a while.

When we returned home from our trip, my car refused to start. My 5 year old battery has been hanging on for far too long and finally decided to quit. My husband replaced the battery over the weekend and the troubles worsened. The car, an automatic, started stalling. Stalling, stopping, and restarting is always super fun in the dark at 5:00 a.m. when you are a female driving alone.

Catching my sarcasm?

Now, let me back up here a sec to tell you a little history about me. In college, I drove everywhere fast – and I had a shoe box of speeding tickets to prove it. I owned a modified Honda Civic and frequently participated in late night street races while living in Los Angeles. I ‘may’ have also been involved in high speed police pursuit.

Before you write a bunch of angry comments about how stupid/dangerous speeding/racing is, let me save you some time. First, I drove like that nearly TEN years ago. Second, at this point in my life, I realize how stupid/dangerous it is. Third, the aforementioned information made my current situation funny…at least to my husband.

My husband took my car to the mechanic to have it repaired. He, who knew me in my racing days, couldn’t stop laughing when he told me what was wrong with the car. Apparently there is an air flap on, near, around, or somewhere in the vicinity of your carburetor (have mercy, I don’t know a thing about cars). If you drive a good portion of your commute under 35mph and don’t accelerate quickly, the darn thing gums up and stops your vehicle. THIS, is what went wrong with my car.

The mechanic specifically told my husband, ‘Tell your wife to stop driving like an old lady.’

The teasing from my husband will never cease.

The only redeeming factor? The mechanic didn’t charge us to clean the flap and my car now drives perfectly.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about Zac Bissonnette’s recommendation for students to attend community college for two years prior to moving to a four year university. Surprisingly, a lot of you didn’t agree and several folks stated, ‘You get what you pay for.’

Here’s the funny part…

I attended community college prior to moving on to a private university.

Obviously I’m not the expert but let me tell you why I absolutely agree with Zac (obviously not all community colleges are the same as ours):

1. Our state college and our community college shared more than half of the same instructors – who taught the same classes at both. The difference? I paid $60 while my state friends paid $580.

2. The class sizes were significantly smaller at the community college vs. the state college. All of my teachers knew my name.

3. San Diego State University, our local state college, is notorious for its impossible acceptance standards. BUT, if you attend the local community college for two years, you are guaranteed a spot. While your perfect GPA valedictorian student can’t get in, my average GPA husband is registering for classes.

4. According to Bissonnette, students who transfer from community college to a four year university are more likely to graduate than those who started in university their freshman year.

5. Best of all, my student loans amounted to $15,000 instead of $30,000 and my diploma from my private university looks exactly the same as someone who attended all four years. There isn’t an asterisk on my diploma saying, ‘We only vouch for half her education.’

That’s just my experience… what’s yours?

We had our Financial Peace University class on Sunday. I found it incredibly difficult to share the reason we were gone for last three sessions.

Admitting we had taken a family vacation to Europe is the equivalent of telling your Alcoholics Anonymous sponsor you spent the last two and a half weeks downing bottles of Jameson.

They weren’t exactly receptive to the idea.

We explained that this was likely the last and only time we would have the opportunity to go with our family and we funded the trip fully with cash.

But still, they weren’t happy about it.

I started to get annoyed and then realized, isn’t that the point of FPU accountability? Isn’t that the reason for the class?

No, I wouldn’t have changed my decision to go… but you can bet I won’t be strolling into class with a new sweater or a cup of Starbucks anytime soon.

I’ll admit, I can hold a grudge for decades. I’m still mad at the boys who threw my bike down a ravine…when I was 7. On the other side of the coin, my husband is incapable of staying angry for longer than 15 minutes… tops.

When it came to the house sitter debacle, my husband was furious. When we had to purchase the cleaning supplies and replacement curtains, he mumbled a lot under his breath while pulling out the debit card.

Hours passed and he was still angry. I stared at him dumbfounded and wondered what he was going to do. Demand repayment for supplies? Demand she replace the floors? Demand she replace the ruined furniture?

He stayed angry for a record 29 hours. During those 29 hours, he carefully calculated the damages and saved the receipts from the purchases. While he wasn’t willing to demand she replace the floors or the furniture, he was adamant my brother pay the cleaning bill since my brother insisted we not pursue anything with my sister-in-law’s sister.

I typed out my brother’s rent bill and asked my husband for the receipts so I could add the cleaning bill to his rent bill.

Do you want to know how I figured out the exact 29 hour time frame of my husband’s anger?

He went to the kitchen, grabbed the receipts, stared at them, and then said, ‘You know what hon, it’s not worth the fight.’ He threw the receipts in the trash and went back outside to rake the lawn.

That’s the end of it.

We have to replace our couches, it’s not an option to leave them. The stains are permanent. We’ve decided to do the best we can and try to live with it until next summer when we pay off all our debt and after we’ve saved some cash.

The house still smells and I get angry every time I sit on the couch. I could fight with my husband over it but I’m not willing to make the mess even bigger.

The only small victory is that we didn’t pay her. Of course, the victory was promptly smashed when my brother told me he paid her anyway.

She will never learn a lesson. I learned mine.

Of course… I’m not sure my mother and sister are as willing to move on. My brother may have to hide from them for the rest of his life.

My husband and I are attending Financial Peace University (Dave Ramsey’s course) again. We attended the series two years ago but I missed nearly half when I lost my day job and started working nights.

The first class was this week and the facilitator asked if anyone was a returning student. My husband and I raised our hands along with one other couple. After the video, we gathered into a small group and were immediately asked if the course had changed our lives. My husband and I said it had and that we lived below our means.

‘Are you debt free?’ a classmate asked.

‘Um. No. We have about 10 grand left.’ I said, ashamed two years has passed and I’m still carrying financial baggage.

‘At least you are working on it. And you’re here!’ she said smiling.

The rest of the group talked about their struggles and goals for about 20 minutes and then we all headed home. It was nice to hear others are fighting the same things as me.

It’s funny that I can openly and fearlessly share every little detail about my debt with you but I’m completely ashamed to share it with the small group – then again, I don’t have to shake your hand every Sunday morning.

If you haven’t been through FPU, you should consider it. The lessons are great but more than that, you have someone to look you in the eye every week who asks… how did you do this week?

Suddenly, spending feels different.