Back in the day money was short, I’m making it taller
You know what I mean, some say it’s a problem
Blowing my greens, not saving my collards
– Wiz Khalifa
I catch a lot of heat from Mr. Big for my… taste.
You see, there are two different types of people in the world: Box people and Bag people.
Some people could live out of a cardboard box… I just so happen to prefer a Michael Kors bag.
See the difference?
He calls me materialistic.
I call it particular.
He calls it getting “dolled up.”
I call it getting dressed.
He says I am a spoiled brat.
I call it independent.
He calls me a Princess.
I tell him to kiss my ass.
See the difference?
Ever since I was little I can remember being super methodical with my money.
I negotiated my first weekly allowance with a Spice Girls VHS in mind. I got my first job when I was 16-years-old and I have been supporting my own shopping habits ever since. And although I may not remember exactly what I did with my first dollar bill, I am pretty positive it was probably funding something I caught on sale.
Aside from birthdays and Christmases, every shirt, shoe, and chachski in this joint was paid for from my checking account. The new car sitting out side – pretty sure, a fairly decent size check was cut from my savings. Half of the rando furniture I have stored in various houses across town and in my car – bought with my credit card (which was paid in full the very next day [gotta get those points]).
So, what’s the problem?
It’s not like I am not asking anyone to foot my Steve Madden bill, support my Jessica Simpson jewelry habit, or front me money for my next Apple purchase.
I have what I have because I work hard for the money I make and I am sure to budget accordingly. Sure, I still live at home and reap the benefits of a Momma-cooked meal every now and then but wouldn’t you if you were able to?
I know what you all must be thinking. “You live at home, really? No wonder you live a scaled-down version of a Real Housewives of Some Town life, you don’t have bills to pay. No obligations.”
Lately, I have struggled with moving – needing my own space and independence. Sonny and I are stuffed in a decent-sized room with 130+ pairs of shoes, a once-was walk-in closet with a wardrobe rack on the side, a lamp that moonlights as a hat stand, and the start of what looks to be a very lucrative jewelry counter. Sometimes, the poor kid hesitates to come in our room. Maybe it is because he does not like the crunch of a plastic shopping bag under his feet or it could very well be the library we have started at the end of my bed. Regardless, I cannot blame the kid for getting a little claustrophobic.
However, none of that is neither here nor there.
Of course I want to have our own home. Why would I not want to have a nice space to fill with the furniture I have started to accumulate? But I also want to go about things the right way and right now, logically (and clearly financially), living at home makes the most sense for me.
Remember what I mentioned before? The bit about being methodical with my money? Well nothing has changed. I want to buy a car and not have to pay the bank thousands of dollars to let me drive it around for the next couple of years. I actually want to have a pot to piss in (literally) when I do decide to move out. When I pack that U-Haul and pull out of Momma and Dad’s drive way I want it to be for good… and I want to pull into a home I know I am sure of.
So, call me what you want, shake your head at my living situation, take inventory of my spending and pass judgment.
I. Do. Not. Care.
I am grateful for the opportunities my parents have created for me because they did not half-mind having their grown child move back home. My things are not purchased to prove a point or to establish status. My things make me happy and no tomorrow is promised so I intend to take all of the happiness I can get now. I take care of my responsibilities and pay all my “bills” before they are even printed. Who cares if I decide to buy a Michael Kors watch for every day of the week with what is left over? Until anyone else decides to start making my money for me, I will spend what I have how I like!
So, let the spending begin… or continue rather.
Oh and one last thing – You’re damn right I am a Princess… a self-made Princess. So suck it.