Celebrate we will…just not this year

I have a confession: I am in love with another man. And actually, it’s more like FIVE other men. It’s true, but I’m not ashamed, nor do I try to hide it. SK is fully aware and supportive of my years-long relationship with these other guys. He knew when he met me that he would occasionally have to take a rain check for my full attention because I was just so consumed with my adoration for them. And tonight is one of those nights. Sorry, SK.

DAVE IS IN TOWN!!!

That’s right folks, Dave Matthews and his band are going to be at the Woodlands tonight. And are we going?!

No. Boo.

The tickets are just too expensive for us right now. What with paying off my credit card debt—the huge, black, gaping, soul-sucking hole I have dug myself into over the past 6 years—every extra cent I have goes to Visa or Discover or Capital One, those bastards.

That is my one major complaint about live music right now—the cost. I get that it’s expensive to tour. I understand that your whole entourage needs a cut of the profit, too. I completely agree that the sound you produce and the words that you sing are BRILLIANT. But taxing me $75 just to get in the door to see you? Ouch. That’s $75 just to walk through some gates. $75 to sit on a hill with thousands of other people who swear their undying love (posers…no one understands you like I do, Dave) in the heat and mosquito-ridden September twilight. That’s $75 that doesn’t include beer, wine, or even a freakin’ Dixie cup of water. That’s $75 of meanness, is what it is.

I have seen the Dave Matthews Band live 5 or 6 times. They tour every year and always come to Houston. Ticket prices keep climbing and I’ve always figured out a way to afford them. Do I really need to eat in August? Hell no! Dave is coming in September!! But this year, I just can’t make it happen. Short of selling my body on a corner downtown, I can’t figure out how to come up with the money. It’s disappointing, yes, but if I ever want to get out of this financial rut I am in, I am going to have to make sacrifices.

Do you like how I am trying to talk myself off the cliff? I am desperate to make myself believe that I am being responsible by not buying the tickets this year. This sucks.

SK and I have a plan for getting ourselves out of debt and I am a little ashamed to admit that I haven’t been as good at following it as he has. SK’s ability to save and not immediately spend all of his money astounds me. I have never been able to do it. Even when I was little and given a quarter for doing some random chore around the house, you can bet your ass that as soon as the ice cream man cruised up the street I was out on the curb, flailing my arms wildly, screaming for him to stop because I have a quarter damnit, and I want a piece of gum. Never mind that the quarter I had probably just dusted the entire house to earn was gone in a flash, and that the gum I so absolutely HAD TO HAVE with that quarter would end up on the bottom of someone’s shoe in about an hour. The thought of saving that quarter, and the 3 quarters that would follow within the next few days, to make a whole dollar and actually buy an ice cream from the ice cream man was such a foreign concept. I had money, and I knew how to spend it.

Needless to say, this habit of getting and spending and not saving followed me to college, when I received my first credit card, for emergencies only, of course. You know the story…Friday nights become “emergencies” and suddenly I am standing in the middle of the mall in San Antonio with 3 of my sorority sisters, armed with bags and bags and BAGS of clothes that I didn’t even have to pay for today. I would make a poor grade on a test: pick-me-up dinner and drinks on me! I’ll put it on The Card! Road-trip to Austin or even f’ng Florida: I’ll drive! We can put the gas on The Card!

It’s not that I was a spoiled brat or anything…my mom paid off The Card each month until she noticed charges at suspiciously mall-like places and numerous not-the-campus-cafeteria restaurants. She called me at school and handed over the bill and told me to quit using The Card for everything. I had a job. I always worked while I was in school, so I had some sort of income. I could have easily cut my spending by 90% and been able to pay off The Card each month, with extra money to spare. Instead, I kept swiping that plastic and paying just my minimum balance each month. I’d gotten pretty good at it, paying just the minimum, and I guess I just thought debt was normal and nothing to worry about.

Now, with the buying of a house looming into my very near future, the thought of debt terrifies me. I won’t get a loan. My interest rate will be 1,000%. I will have to live in a box under a shrub because of my very bad credit and past spending habits with no room for SK or Bella.

Which is why I am choosing to put more cash into my Visa bill this month than fork it over for concert tickets. We’re going to sit in my parent’s pool and listen to every Dave Matthews Band CD that I own, drink beer until the ache in my heart goes away, and pretend we’re sitting in the grass on the hill swaying and singing along to every song. I’ll be able to go to the concert next year and then return home to my Brand! New! House! that Dave actually helped me buy. Do you now see why I love this man so much?