Written 2/6/11
Since I was at work on Friday, I never got the chance to deposit my first ever paycheck.
So I trudged over to my banks, stood in line with people and exchanged expressions that we’d really rather be anywhere else but there.
Despite owing more money that what I wished I could spend, it was a great moment for me. “All grown up” is probably the closest expression I can use, although it’s kinda lame that I had to wait until I was 22 to get to this point. But I have been dedicating a fair amount to the idea of my finances lately.
You always see ads to figure out your credit score and such, but none of them have ever really stuck to my head since I never needed to find out my credit score. Or so I figured.
Turns out, even though I don’t have overdue bills, I still have crappy-ish credit. And that bothers me. So I’ve been trying to find ways to build that credit while figuring out how to make my money work for me. Investing seems like my best option if I want to make money outside of work, but aside from crash course given to me by Mina about a month ago, I have a very limited understanding of how the market works…
In any case, flash forward a couple of hours later and I am dressed up and ready to go out on a date.
…with three other ladies. Nicky, Mina, and Susie and I all met up at a restaurant and proceeded to talk a fair amount of shit about our good old days in high school while I ordered a round of wine for the table. Right before picking her up for dinner, I decided to dress-up and insisted that heels be mandatory for our date. Nicky rolled out of her house with her hair done in these stylish twists (“I didn’t quite get it right,” She confided with a laugh, “But I’m gonna act like it’s supposed to look like this”) and gorgeous heels that made her legs look great in my passenger seat. Mina was a late arrival to the list, so she couldn’t strut the heels, but I spent more times staring at her chest and wondering aloud, “Have your boobs always been that huuuuuuuge??” that I couldn’t be mad at her.
As for Susie, she complained, “But heels are going to make me look like a slut in this outfit!”
She came in heels anyway, but smugly carried a shopping bag of flats to wear at the table. I laughed, between disbelief and amused exasperation.
We ordered calamari but only Nicky and I ate it. After a couple of bites, I go,
“Hmm, I think my throat is getting inflamed.”
Mina stared at me, “Wait.” Her gaze flicks to our squid-y appetizer. “Are you allergic to calamari??”
“A little.” I answer. “But it’s ok as long as I chase it with cold water.”
(I realize this is not a proper medical intervention for allergic reactions involving one’s airway)
Susie looks at me like I’m crazy, “You’re crazy.” She says simply and I fervently agree as I bite into another piece.
We ate a lot and talked even more. We picked out a Riesling to drink, I helped Nicky finish hers and dropped my jaw when I saw that Susie had downed hers (she’s pretty non-alcoholic so it was a refreshing thing to see).
Susie hashed about how she was to be a bridesmaid at her friend’s wedding…except her friend hadn’t made a facsimile of an effort to tell her about plans for the wedding. That insight launched an entire conversation about communication and how, if people don’t try to keep those lines open, you shouldn’t have to either. As a rule, if someone rejects or dodges my attempts to catch up three times in one month, I delete their number and move them from my “Good Friends” list to my “Acquaintances” list on Facebook. Admittedly, it’s not the most mature concept, but I figure if my “friend” isn’t making that effort to keep in touch, like Susie’s soon-to-be-married friend from middle school, then I’m just not that important to them. Doesn’t mean I should cut them from my life, but they can at least fade into the background if they’re not up for being front and center.
We told Susie that her friend wasn’t being very nice. You’d think that if you ask someone to be your bridesmaid, you’d at least try to include her in the planning process, especially since Susie and her have been friends for longer than I’ve known Susie.
“I told her I’d pencil her in,” Susie said with a tone between smug and miffed. “But that she’d have to tell me ahead of time about things she’s planning.”
The rest of the table agreed with this idea. Although when the idea of having another dinner again in a while, Mina jokingly threatened that Susie’d better use a pen just for us…
At the end of night, Mina sat in the backseat of my car with Nicky and I and talked about her personal drama. See, after dating her boyfriend since high school, she made the choice to tell her conservative parents about their relationship. Needless to say, it hasn’t had too many positive repercussions to her relationship with them. As she spoke, I thought of one of the earliest Indian movies I’d seen, Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, and laughingly admitted at the end of her spiel that I expected a horde of Indians to bust out around my car into choreographed dance in 90s-style clothes
as a magical wind managed to blow out of effin nowhere from inside my closed car.
(This reference won’t make sense to anyone who’s never seen a Bollywood film)
She laughed right back and agreed that her life was a little more dramatic than usual at the moment, but Nicky and I both wished the entire situation well. After dropping Nicky off, I drove home just a little above the speed limit (just a little I promise!) and thought about Mina’s situation. It’s tricky, to be caught between her family and the love of her life. The romantic in me is proud of her to take a stand for what she wants while the cynic in me is being gagged by the romantic. I worry that she’s investing too much into her relationship, but seeing as how all four of mine have failed in as many years and hers has gone through fire and barely needed burn cream, I figured it’s probably best that I STFU.
