One of the two couples I interviewed in my latest MSN Money column has an adjusted gross income of $30,000 — and is raising kids and paying for a home on that sum.
The other couple is doing the same thing on an AGI of $36,000.
Could you?
Month: March 2011
7 money tips from the U.K. trip.
Melinda is the winner of “Shooting Bears: The Adventures of a Wildlife Photographer.” And here’s a hint about this Friday’s giveaway: It’s also a book, one with a personal-finance/frugality theme — and the author is willing to personalize it.
I haven’t been posting as much as I usually do because, well, I’m bushed. It’s taking a surprising amount of time to shake off the fatigue that followed my three-week trip, during which I pushed myself pretty hard.
One more mention of the U.K. and then I’ll get back to my usual mix of PF/lifeitsownself. Here are 7 things I learned across the pond:
The cougar in spite of herself.
I brought a cold and/or upper-respiratory bug from Cornwall to London. (Should have stuck with postcards, huh?) It worsened the next day so I decided to go to bed early rather than see “War Horse.” The virus had chewed its way into my bones.
Fortunately I’d packed some cold meds. A paranoid traveler is a prepared traveler, as well as a traveler who doesn’t have to go out in search of a pharmacy when she’s feeling like homemade shit.
As I crept along the hostel hallway I saw some young dude using a cell phone. He hung up and said, “Hallo, how are you doing?” Couldn’t place his accent or his provenance.
I replied,“I’m sick and I’m going to bed” and kept moving.
He followed me. “You are sick? What’s wrong?”
“A cold.” I coughed to punctuate/demonstrate. “Good night.”
“You should take a shower,” he said.
That sounded odd to me but I shrugged it off. “Maybe later.” As I pushed the heavy door open I saw the light I’d left on was now out. Apparently my roomies were early-to-bed types, too. So I opened the door as little as possible to keep out the hallway glare and slipped through the narrow space.
And the guy tried to follow me in.
Mind the gap, especially on escalators.
As I got off the Underground an elderly woman was slowly trailing behind me, pulling a suitcase. I got one of those little mental flashes that said, “Let her go. Watch her.” So I stopped and fiddled with my pack and suitcase until she was in front of me.
The woman went around a corner and I lost sight of her briefly. Then I saw this flash of movement off to my left. It was a middle-aged guy making a Superman-like leap up onto the escalator. I swear he made five steps in one bound.
It was to rescue the elderly woman, who had fallen backwards and was lying all twisted as the escalator moved her slowly, inexorably upwards. She hadn’t made a sound.
In which I (briefly) second-guess the hostel.
I lived in Anchorage, Alaska, for 17 years. About 15 of those years were spent in a trailer whose flat roof needed to be shoveled. My now-ex husband never acknowledged the existence of household or maintenance duties, so I was the one who clambered up.
I was then and am now afraid of heights. The second-worst part of the chore was stepping off the ladder and onto the roof.
The worst part? Getting back on, because there was nothing to hold onto save the top of the ladder, which extended a couple of feet past the roof line.
The first time I looked at the job I knew that getting back down was going to be scary. That’s why I came up with the strategy of leaving a patch of snow next to the ladder.
Giveaway: “Not Your Parents’ Money Book”
Want to give your kids a shot at financial freedom? Jean Chatzky can help.
Aimed at the middle-school set, “Not Your Parents’ Money Book” arose from Chatzky’s talks with students across the United States. What they wanted to know was fairly pragmatic: How much does it cost to live independently? What kind of job would I need to do that? What’s wrong with the economy? What’s a recession? Why can’t the government just print more dollars?
“Kids haven’t learned that money is a limited resource,” Chatzky told me.
Live from Cornwall: Blog carnivals and the Amazon winner.
Pam F. is the winner of the $20 Amazon.com gift card. She’ll use it to birthday gifts for her little sister. (Cue the girl noise: Awwww!) Thanks to all who entered.
I entered two blog carnivals this week and was happy to get into both:
- “My credit card got hacked” is in the Carnival of Money Stories, hosted by Squirrelers.
- “A frugal traveler’s best friend,” one of my posts at MSN Money Smart Spending, is in the Festival of Frugality at Money Beagle.
On the train ride to Cornwall today I met a delightful woman who has traveled extensively and once shot photos of a tiger while riding on an elephant. She suggested accompanying me to Paris on a day trip (boy, does that sound weird) this weekend or, if the Chunnel train tickets are too costly, to tour me around Windsor (the region, not the castle).
The Underground tried to eat me! And other shocking travel tales.
When the Megabus from Cardiff dropped me off last week, I headed toward Victoria Station and found myself trudging along in lockstep with thousands of Underground commuters. I followed the crowd into the subway car, carrying my suitcase in front of me. Then people stopped moving. I could see there was room elsewhere in the car, but apparently these folks liked being close to the doors.
“Excuse me, could I get by?” I said.
No one moved.
“I’m not quite in, please let me get by,” I said, louder.
This was met with a peculiarly British inertia. People looked at advertising placards, or their shoes. A few looked at their cell phones, as though scanning texts. Nobody looked at the tired American tourist who was carrying way too much baggage. (Physical, not emotional.)
Then the doors shut on me.
My credit card got hacked.
A credit card issuer e-mailed me to warn of potentially fraudulent activity. My immediate thought was that the company had simply forgotten that I was traveling, even though I’d notified them.
Nope. Somebody had gotten hold of my number and used it twice. Guess where.
My chance encounter with a Scotsman.
I’m writing this from the Westminster Reference Library in London, because I needed a quiet place to work. I have another MSN Money deadline and the hostel’s “common room” is too noisy even when I’m wearing earplugs.
Because I didn’t trust the very vague directions given by the hostel staff, I asked a man on the street for help. After a couple of false starts he realized he could go there but he couldn’t tell me how to go there – so he walked me over.
We chatted while we walked. He turned out to be an actor from Perth, Scotland, in town to audition for the Royal Shakespeare Company’s upcoming production of both Henry plays.