I'm salty New England, Cindy, and my parents definately have the "don't discuss money" issues. But it's something that causes me to worry and sometimes panic, and occassionally, my lack of it makes me feel like a failure.

There's something really comforting in knowing most people are in the same boat, and it does lose its power when you discuss it.

Yes. I completely agree. I've made a few Gee-we're-broke posts, lately, because gee, we're broke. I was holding my breath 'til pay day with no money and not having grocery shopped in two weeks.

For me, it is just seeing the numbers--they're making me black out (except yours which I'm going to see flashing over your posts, for the rest of my life. Probably in red).

The money talk is pushing my anxiety buttons, but that's just because the new mortgage--coupled with the idea of doubling our day care payments--is making me anxious.

Anyway, I came by to tell everyone that yesterday my MiL brought my daughter a new outfit. There was a cute little hat and a pair of orange pants with a sock monkey pattern on it.

Yes, my daughter now owns a pair of MONKEY PANTS!

I am so excited! I will definitely have to post pictures.

I really loved that apartment. You could lean your head out the window and listen to the music down the street, decide who had the good live acts and what club to go to. It was nice.

Before that we had an 800 sqft house, but it was stone and lovely, and had a wonderful landlord until he keeled over of a heart attack at 54 and was bought out by one that just wanted to give the property to his son.

Today my house is huge, six bedrooms, I have no idea what square footage, but it's in miserable condition and has not been kept up over the last 70 years of its life.

If we move, probably we'll be moving into an "apartment" that is just a bedroom and bathroom in a school building. Dunno what we'll do with all our stuff. Pay for storage, I guess. For the duration, until we figure out what to do and hopefully build.

It's less than I could make if I played more monkey-grooming games,

Hey, boss, you look really foamy in a corset!

Holy crap - including the cars, the house, and my student loans, at least over $350K.

That's our mortgage.

Burrell, won't Frances's costs be going down as she gets older, or have they already done that?

You MUST post pictures of her in the monkey pants. It's a sure bet to cause aches in most ovaries.

I ain't telling you people how much I make.

I could take a really great guess. But I wont.

However, if you do move, I'm totally moving in and pretending they were leasing to me all along.

What bugs is the, "we'll/I'll pay." Just makes me feel like a leech.

I'll just note that I'd gladly pay for your company. Most of my friends in SF have been through so many cycles of layoffs and unemployment and downturns that nobody thinks twice about picking up the check when you're the one working. Because, six months from now they'll be taking you to lunch. That's the way it's been for me for as long as I've lived here. Because if you do have a job here it's well compensated.

One thing that was very interesting to me when I tempted for Wells Fargo (answering 800 calls for ATM malfunctions) was that I could see everybodys bank account. Most people don't have that much cash at hand. A lot of people are paycheck to paycheck.

Dang Lori, I figured you two had a good deal because of how long you've been there, but that's a great price. Two bedroom apts, no yard, in my neighborhood are way more than that.

I utterly loathe the "Never talk about your salary to your co-workers" taboo (though it seems to be helping ita in staying out of the firing line of her aggrieved co-worker's rage).

I remember sitting down with a co-worker in my division a half dozen years ago and mutually confessing our salaries and the last time we'd gotten increases. It was hard and shameful, but instructive, for both of us: it confirmed what we'd both suspected, that our supervisor was playing favorites. The co-worker, who had started three years later than me and had what she herself admitted was a lighter workload (and she couldn't do anything about it, as our supervisor had explicitly forbidden her to take any of my excess work because I was clearly a whiny goldbricker who refused to do her fair share), was two salary steps ahead of me and making $3-400 more a month.

That info-sharing confirmed and clarified our general sense of unease about the supervisor's ethics and competency, and was the catalyst for a series of fortunate events that led to both of us leaving - co-worker for a job that paid less but made her actually happy, me for a slightly higher-paying job under people with zero charm but a comfortingly rigid sense of fair play and mutual respect. And eventually I got to come back, at another salary increase, to work for my beloved doctor again after the evil supervisor had departed.

The don't-discuss-your-salary taboo was definitely one of the many weapons she used to keep her underlings off-balance, dependent on her, and resentful and suspicious of one another, and both my co-worker and I were so damn happy that we went behind her back and did what we oughtn't.

YWorkSituation,SalaryStructureAndEvilSupervisorMV, obviously.