Yes, They Cue Kanye Every Time I Walk in a Room

As I have said many times on this blog, I am the ripe old age of 26. I’m splendidly single, I have no kids to take care of, not even a pet, or a boyfriend. My life is mine to live however I want, and frankly I’m head over heels in love with it. While our society seems to make us want to crave our youth, I have to say, I wouldn’t go back to high school if you paid me a million dollars. While I howled to anyone that would listen that I was “officially old” when I turned 26 (and 25), I would take my life today hands down over my life at age 22. It just keeps getting better and better, and I, quite simply, can’t wait to see how the giant question mark that it has become finally unfolds.

However, lately, I’ve started to realize I’m getting older. In fact, it hit me with a thud when I opened my mailbox on Wednesday to find a Talbots, yes Talbots catalog, addressed to ME. How old do these people think I am? I’m still genuinely offended, not as bad if it were Chicos, but still, it’s just plain offensive. Am I a Talbots woman now? No, but I certainly am not getting any younger. While home ownership will not happen for a very long time (okay, very), I realize I need to take control of my financial destiny (how Suze Orman of me) by saving for my On Golden Pond years and open up a 401k account.

Yes, 401k is now in my vocabulary. Just as when I bought my very first suit, I now feel as though I’m officially an adult (yes, those last four years didn’t count). After being gainfully employed by my organization for six months, I am now qualified to take part in our company’s match program. Admittedly, I’m a financial mess. I thought it was a big deal when I opened up an ING savings account, as if I was going to become rich just off the $10 I got for opening it. I know nothing about 401ks or anything financial for that matter (this is not something to be proud of), however Suze Orman is very much a part of my self help library, and I am slowly but surely educating myself on how to take care of myself for the long haul. I plan to retire in style – play bridge, wear Hermes scarves, and carry a Chanel handbag to my weekly hair appointment. It’s time to start planning now.

So yesterday marked the beginning of my financial transformation when I met with Marilyn,”the 401k lady”, a financial planner who came to my office to talk to all five of us who now qualify to enter my company’s program. Woohoo, I made it past the six month marker.

Before I went in, a girl in my office said to me, “Oh, you’re meeting with the 401k lady? She’s crazy.” Um, okay, so am I, but whatever. I was ready. Today is the day I put all my bad financial habits aside. No more starbucks. No more random sale rack spending. Clean slate from here on out. I sit down, pen and notebook ready, like the good financial student I am, ready to bask in her knowledge and start my 401k empire. Kind of like how you feel as if you’re losing weight as you read a weight loss book. I’m making money as I sit in this office.

As soon as she sat down, I realized – this woman is all about dramatics (no one could say the same about me, oh no). She clears her throat and begins. “I know you may be scared with the economy the way it is.” Okay, true. “However, the American economy is THE Strongest….economy….in the world.” I nod. Yes. Are we going to start singing Lee Greenwood now? NOW is the tiiimme to invessst. George Bush fiiinally has put some of the smarrrtest people in charge to get us out of this mess. I felt like I was watching a 1940s “Buy Bonds” commercial. Buy stock.

Then she starts with the nitty gritty, “Your company will give you a full match for up to 3% of your salary.” Yes. I’ve thought about it, and I’m ready to pony up my 3%. Go me. Big spender. “However, to get all of the available free money that is available to you, you need to contribute 5%.” Grrr…little more than I wanted, but hey, free money is free money. I’m all about a bargain. “However, if you want to actually retire and, as soon as possible, you need to contribute 15% of your salary.” Gulp. Whoa, lady. Baby’s gotta eat. Do I need to file for food stamps now that I’m contributing a chunk of my income to my 401k? This isn’t just goodbye looking good. This is good bye food.

She must have seen me blink. It was clear she also watched Suze Orman as much as I do. I thought she was going to grasp my hands like Suze does on Oprah, for the really truly unfortunate souls. She goes on about how women need to take control of their financial future, we don’t educate ourselves enough, we let men make financial decisions. Um, I know, I read Women & Money too and Young, Fabulous, & Broke, too. “I’m sorry, even if you marry a brain surgeon, he just might present you with a pre nup.” Um lady, aren’t we being a little overdramatic here? Since when did I become the young bride to be about to marry the handsome wealthy brain surgeon who decided I was Valerie from 90210 and can’t be trusted and must sign a pre nup and I say to him, “Just who do you think I am? Clearly you aren’t who I thought you were.” The wedding is called off, the seasons change, and I spend the rest of fall walking around lakes and reflecting pools in perfectly cozy fall sweaters to Jan Arden’s “Insensitive.” Haaave to beee…Insensitive.

Now she goes in for the kill. “This Sex and the City phenomenon. These women who have closets full of clothes but nothing in savings, it is ridiculous. There is nothing that will make you feel better than saving for yourself.” Shyeah, I mean, who are these women, really? I can’t imagine having a closet (cough walk in closet) full of clothes and shoes. Just material excess, simply despicable. I don’t know anyone like that. Oh no, not at all. You don’t have me pegged, oh no, not one bit. I’m a huuuuuge saver. I have a coffee tin and everything.

After the meeting was over, I asked my coworker Anne how her consultation went. Anne is a little older than me, but we’re both single gals living it up in the city. “15%? Is that woman crazy? ” Whew, okay, I’m not the only one who knows that’s just not possible. “Yeah, I know. Did she do the marrying a brain surgeon thing to you?” Anne: “Huh? No. She talked to me about college loans, and I don’t even have any.” Interesting. “Did she lecture you on the Sex and the City lifestyle?” “No – she told me that my 401k benefits could be extended to my domestic partner.” Anne is not gay. Not even a little bit. “Really? She told me I could be offered up a pre nup and that I shouldn’t be living the Sex and the City lifestyle.” “No, I didn’t get any of that.” Okay, I gave this woman zero personal information. She only knew my name and what I looked like, but she clearly had me pegged as shop-a-holic gold digger and Anne as a college loan loving lesbian. I’m not sure if I take this as an insult or that I must have dressed really well yesterday. However, I’m sticking to my 5% contribution (for now) and a clothing budget. No need to wait until old age to finally look good.