And They Said It Couldn't Be Done
Prior to turning 16, my mother went away for a business trip and left my brother and I in the hands of our aunt. She hadn’t spent the night the evening before-not that we really needed her to-and G and I were left alone. I can’t recall now, where G had gone, but I was home alone for the afternoon. Me and the keys to the minivan parked outside. Having taken some sort of driving lessons before hand I knew how to maneuver a vehicle. But the point wasn’t about driving. I was also left alone with our “treat jar”. A giant jar filled with coins. This was just when coin star machines had been imbedded in grocery stores. Can you see where this story is going? With a jar full of money (it turned out to be $150) and a car, I set out to spend every fucking cent in that thing. The one thing I remember purchasing is a t-shirt from Abercrombie, that I actually still have and maybe some stuff from Bath and body works. When I returned home after my long day of shopping, my aunt was there waiting for me and the car. Needless to say, Peg was told and I was banned from driving for two weeks and reprimanded, severely, for spending every cent I found.
For my 19th birthday, my mother gave me a platinum credit card “For emergencies Heather. Emergencies”. It was bolded and highlighted, with stars and shit. “Emergencies” turned out to be an infatuation with lucky brand jeans and a personal goal to spend every cent I had at Woodbury Commons. I mean, seriously, there’s a Coah and Lucky brand outlet (two pairs for $50). I think spending $800 a month on my mother’s card, was the one time that she really contemplated shooting me and where to put my body.
The above isn’t uncharacteristic of me. I’ve grown out of sneaking out to drive, but not out of spending every cent in sight. It’s a major character flaw that I am slowly, actually I have finally learned to curb. It’s only taken 22 years and 350 emergency phone calls to my parents to let them know that their precious daughter whom they love so much, has once again run out of money. I can’t even recall the number of times I have called them from Europe, telling them that I need a deposit. I learned the hard way that $250 here and there, adds up quickly and that I blew through about $4000 in the four months I was there. This isn’t adding into the fact that, upon my return I had no money either and lived off of my parents and graduation money for six weeks. Now you can see why I was so desperate to work. I needed it.
There’s something in me that says “I see $10, now spend it” but frankly I’m getting quite tired of being desperate and never having money. And now thinks to umm common sense, I’ve learned to save and (holy shit!) budget. I gave up my fucking coach, because I couldn’t afford it. This is serious. Yesterday, when I got my security deposit back, I sat and thought about the million and one ways to spend it. I could go back to anthropologie and get all the clothes I wanted and get my fuck me bag back from coach. But careful consideration, told me that what I really would want and need is to get the fuck out of Washington and escape from life and work for a week. With that, I finally have an incentive to save. I’m going to Prague in May. PRAGUE, mother fuckers. I need to repeat that PRAGUE. I’m paying the plane ticket (holy hell) and since my mother was already planning on going, she’ll pay for the hotel, but I’ll need to purchase a new digital camera. But dude, I’m SAVING for something. A trip. To Prague.
See this, this is what being an adult is about, realizing that after a while, I’ll need to regain my sanity and to get the fuck out of Washington and there’s no better way to do it, than with a mug full of Pilsner Urquell. IN PRAGUE.