7 years earlier.
February 6th, 2004
Once a farm girl, always one, I guess. I never quite spoke their fashionable language.
My money from Mom’s estate is almost gone. I can’t tell Dad about it though. I can’t believe I waited 12 years to get the money and then I blew it in less than 6 months. Of course with not being in the dorms anymore, I needed it for rent, but those clothes at Bloomingdales, those shoes at Saks, those weekly manicures and pedicures, taking cabs instead of the subway every day, the invites that I accepted every time to brunches in SoHo from the girls on my floor in the dorm, and spending $45 on breakfast every week! Trying to act like I didn’t come from a place where dirt on your hands means you had a good day. But I had to do it to make friends, be a real city-girl, become a material slut, or I thought did. That was so stupid. Now that I am not at NYU, I hardly hear from any of them anymore.