On Financial Independence...

I've worked at my new job for over a month now. So far things are going really well and I generally like it. There are days when I love it, and days where I've been bitten to the point that I go to night clubs with monstrous hematomas on my arms. I, personally, feel that "Want to feel my hematoma?" is a perfect pick-up line.

I've also been experiencing the joys of having money in my bank account. So far I've been spending far too much money on the following:
- Going out
- Treating my friends to dinner/drinks/whatever I have on hand
- Enormous tips for those serving me dinner/drinks
- New jeans
- A Nintendo DS
- Games for my Nintendo DS
- Name brand blankets for my horse
- A variety of other money-wasters that I shouldn't be spending money on

I have made some steps in the right direction, however. I've opened up a savings account, paid my Visa bill in full, paid my parents several hundred dollars that I owe them, and paid all but a very small portion of my student line of credit to the bank. The line of credit kills me, because that is the one I made my frivolous purchases on. For example, all the beer and tequila I used to drink while away at University. Although, in some cases, beer and tequila are necessities, so I only feel a little bit guilty for those.

When I went to the bank to deposit my pay cheque this week, the woman at the counter accosted me and asked me if I was still a student. So, I did what I could to make up a big, fat lie, because I've been expecting the bank people to accost me at any time now, seeing as how I'm not a student any more. A more honest and upstanding person would have gone to the bank and told them they were through with their studies. Not I.

I grinned broadly at her and explained that I am now officially a Student of Life. And she smiled back at me, and I thought, Oh, thank goodness, my ploy worked. I will still be able to pay minimal banking fees because this woman thinks I'm just hilarious.

But no.

I have now officially lost my student bank account forever, and I have to pay TEN DOLLARS every month for the joy of banking.

I do feel much more grown up, though. I'm looking at cars that I may want to purchase in the future (The Dodge Calibre and the Monte Carlo are currently in my mind quite often) and I am in a state of bliss because I've opened an account for my retirement. I am also NOT hitting up my parents for twnety bucks every time I turn around, and as a result, I feel much more like a twenty four year olf and much less like a sixteen year old.

Life is grand, indeed.

So Proud of Me....

I had an experience tonight that I have never had before this day.

I went to a nightclub.

Wait, that's a lie. I have gone to nightclubs before. There was a huge difference between this time and every other time, however, and I wish to share it with you now.

This time, I was in a nightclub and I was not completely fricken' hammered.

That's right.

In a state of complete and total sobriety, I walked into a club and then proceeded to make my way to the dance floor.

The first time another person, a member of a party I did not walk in with, entered my personal space? I will not lie.

I hid behind my dearest best friends, T and Mal. The person who had entered my personal space then looked at me as though I was deranged and stalked haughtily away. I live for the day that I find myself in a position that I may stalk haughtily away.

Anyhow.

It was an entirely new experience for me, one that I am glad I have had. I got to experience the drama of the bar scene. I witnessed two near fights between people who were clearly ridiculously hammered. I witnessed complete strangers making out with each other with such fervor that certainly the ceilings should have collapsed. I saw drunk people engaging in dance moves that should not be attempted by anyone other than trained professionals. I cabbed home -- to Mal's home, that is-- and had actual coherent conversation with the cab driver on the way there.

There were times in the past when I thought that it was simply impossible to enter a place of such loud music, of so many people, of so many sights and sounds and sensations without the effects of sincere inebriation.

And now I know that those thoughts were simply misguided.

I only needed to try it once, and many years later, to realize that it was entirely possible all these years.

Who would have thought?