I regret not going to my friend's wedding.
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| RIU Ocho Rios resort, where my friend held his wedding. |
[Image: http://www.riu.com/en-us/Paises/jamaica/ocho-rios/index.jsp]
I just didn't have the money. I had recently gotten hired for my first full-time job, barely enough to make the rent, and was racking up the credit card bills. The only option I had was to add the hefty charge to one of my credit cards, and keep wondering when I was going to be able to pay it all back. It would be completely irresponsible for me to charge the trip on my card when I really couldn't afford to. I declined his wedding invitation.
Fast forward to the present, 2010. I have paid off all of my credit card debt, and I now pay every single bill I have in full each month. No interest accumulates. I only purchase things and rent apartments that I can afford.
I haven't seen my friend - the one whom had gotten married in Jamaica - in six years.
I found this one article particularly insightful [MSN Money] :
"If we all lived life 'by the numbers,' we would never take vacations or sabbaticals, would never have kids, and we would never do anything unnecessary that costs money."
Nostalgia
My friend and I went to play some tennis after work. We both played on our teams during our high school years - different high schools, different states. But it gets us thinking about childhood, and adolescence, and honestly, where have all the years gone? We are not in college, far from high school, and though those years feel fresh in our hearts they are no longer who we are and the responsibilities we continue to uphold have molded us into different people - adults.
What's the sad part? Well - perhaps that all of that is behind us. The tennis team practices after school, the classes, the prom, the life and much more carefree life that we once had - that everyone once had. That means there is that much less ahead of us. Not to be too much of a downer.
Like a movie you're watching in the theater - there is this excited anticipation, during the opening scene, the rise of the title card, the initial voice-over lines heard by the audience. The adventure is only beginning.
In Battle
There's desperation out there. I can feel it. The economy, the job market, the inevitability of aging. And having been in the job market and the interview hot seat these past several years after college, there's always that pressure to wrestle your way in; set yourself apart from the crowd, get your resume in with a trusted sourced rather than flood in with the masses over the transom.
Ah, the rat race, ladies and gentlemen, the rat. Race.
The responsibility rock within me, has grown with time, just as I'd imagine it has done with my peers. Getting good grades and treating people well and working hard has expanded over the years to include paying bills on time, getting home early, and picking out a healthy meal for myself.
But the battle is there. Responsible vs. Irresponsible. Predictable vs. Romantic. I think you either see it as: Life is too long or life is too short.
Generation Gap
I've given this a bit of thought, after recent conversations with my mother. And it never hit me that my dreams were drastically different from my mother's dreams. And collectively, generationally speaking, our dreams stand in gaping disparity from those of our parents. Our dreams were not even fathomed by them. I had agonizingly debated about attending my friend's wedding in Jamaica and irresponsibly dumped the glaring charge on my credit card. My parents grew up in a time when there weren't four pieces of plastic in their wallet that they could use to earn frequent flyer miles; they grew up in a rural town in East Asia where the rich kids in school were recognized by the hard-boiled eggs in their lunch boxes.
My friend sent me this very interesting article about these splendid and tumultuous twentysomething years [What Is It About 20-Somethings?]. It discusses the many changes and aspects of our rapidly evolving lifestyle, the differences quite prominently drawn across a single generation gap.
It is reassuring to be financially independent and responsible, and not constantly be wondering if I can afford to go out for dinner with friends. Still, I hate how money is so damn important to everybody. The things we could do if we didn't have bills to pay... Lately I feel that the older you get, the more intensely that belligerent war of security is embattled; it rocks the very core of your sense of responsibility. You wake up one day and realize internally that the slight uneasiness you felt about some minor detail in your life has sparked an all-out battle royal. [Brace for impact, people! Brace. For. Impact!] Maybe you only remember there's something in there when you shake it and hear it rattle.
Life is long vs. Life is short. Which camp are you in?
