SH and I have a pretty good relationship, even though we fight all the time about politics (we are, however, in agreement that this latest move by the Wisconsin legislators stinks to high heaven and that our local state representative and senator are GOING DOWN), but we haven't quite gotten to that seventh level of trust.
At Ridge winery in California last year. This looks better to me now than it did then because I got carsick on the drive up there. Fortunately, I happened to have a Dramamine in my purse, left over from when I was in Chile, when I got motion sickness on the buses all the time. Yes, it is a joy to travel with me. No, I don't know why I happened to have a drug from 13 years ago in my purse, because the purse certainly wasn't 13 years old, but I was quite relieved to find it.
We have merged finances: The money from the sale of my Memphis house, which was within $300 of being paid for (see: "I buy my jeans at Goodwill"), was the down payment for this one. His paycheck goes into my checking account, which pays my credit card, which is good, as I do not have a large income of my own now. I am the beneficiary on his insurance. I even know how much money he makes, which is a conversation I don't think we had until we had been dating for a good while, although of course I had sussed out that he was solvent and financially responsible early on in the relationship because I am Not An Idiot. Women who marry men who are deep in debt who have gambling problems and who won't get a job? Cry me a river, honey.
Anyhow. So we have married, we have had the money talk, but we still don't know each other's biggest secret: the passwords. Not only that, but Mr Logical Engineer, who does everything by the book, who won't send an email that hasn't been spellchecked and thinks using "2" for "two," "too," or "to" is a sign of the Apocalypse (not that I am a fan, myself), who just last night finally agreed to let me discard his car insurance bills from 2006 (yes, they have been paid) and who still has his stepdaughter's student loan payment receipts from 1997 (she has been out of college for how long now?) because WHAT IF WE NEED THEM SOMEDAY? Anyhow Mr Procedure Engineer uses ONE PASSWORD FOR EVERYTHING.
My friend Luke and I walked around San Francisco.
So when someone hacks into his hotmail account, the next logical step is USAA, where ten years of my hard-earned money is languishing in various investment accounts and his paycheck resides in our checking account. Then to his retirement account with his employer. And the whole house of cards will fall.
Someone will have to work a lot harder to break into my stuff because I have a gajillion passwords that not even I can remember. Good strategy, huh?