(I never mentioned how I came to live with Vaughn’s family. basically I learned the valuable lesson of never subletting from a boyfriend, because boyfriends sometimes become ex-boyfriends.)
Vaughn’s family doesn’t come off as the rich type. They are down-to-earth. They argue and bicker amongst one-another at least as much as any family I’ve seen. They don’t wear designer clothes or drive Mercedes. They are also extremely generous and kind people.
At first, their quality of life didn’t seem too far off from the one I grew up with.
But then things began to suggest otherwise.
First, there was the 60 acres of nearly private island they own in the Thousand Islands region of the St. Lawrence River. Vaughn's mother bought this about five years ago as a gift for her husband and three sons, so that when her sons hove kids, they'll have somewhere to escape to.
"You always here people say, 'This place has been in the family for years' and I wanted to give that to them," she explained. In addition to the land, they own a motorboat, a homelike cabin, water skis and canoes.
Then, there’s the beautiful two-year-old horse that Vaughn’s mom hand-picked. She looked at thousands of horses in attempts to find one that will be a star.
"I have big plans to for him. He's going to compete nationally. And If he turns out to not be up for it, he'll be a movie star," an A-list celebrity, taking on roles as unicorns and free-spirited stallions that forge friendships with little girls .
I begin to wonder how the seemingly low-key family came to be able to own all these luxuries- things that, growing up, I would never have even dreamed of possessing.
After Vaughn's mother showed me her beloved horse, one day, we leave the stable and continue on to the acres and acres of thick Cazenovia forest the family owns. She drives me through the property that's littered with streams, valuable hardwood trees, and thriving wildlife.
I try to get my head around the idea of owning forest, and I feel a little like the American Indians must have felt when the white man came and divided up the earth and made it property.
She shows me all her inspirational places - the "Ancient One", a massive tree, the paddock, the kissing bridge. She tells me this property is what keeps her awake at night trying to figure out how to afford it, but if she loses this inspirational wonderland, she'll go crazy.
I'm just thinking of my family, who always provided me with what felt like more than enough— my own room, dance and art classes, a nice neighborhood— but seemed constantly to be stressing over playing for our under $200,000 home.
Oh please, lady.
"I can’t even imagine all this for myself," I tell Vaughn’s mother as we drive to see her horse and property. "I just don’t understand how it happens."
But, somewhere in my head, the wheels are turning and I'm beginning to think about possibilities for my own future I never conceived of.
How can I have this? What do I do to get here?
I begin to see them as the "other side," NOT my side - like I'm some kind of unsophisticated brute who was just introduced to a highly evolved community.
My vision begins to be painted in gold. maybe if I marry get a top position at the New York Times, publish work in the New Yorker, freelance write for Vogue or National Geographic on the side, then get my Masters and Ph.D. and teach - and it pretty much goes without saying I need to raise my standards for potential boyfriends based on their family's monetary value and their potential for financial success, THEN I can have this too!!
Then something hits me.
WHAT THE HELL AM I THINKING??
I hate owning things. I don't like the burden of worrying about lots of stuff. If I am able to afford as much as I had growing up, I'll be damned lucky and a lot better off than most.
I decide immediately upon this realization that I need to create a plan, which I can turn to if I ever find myself in the lap of luxury, and loving every minute of it, to get myself back to my actual destined lot in life.
1) Do away with your higher education: Burn your degree, unsubscribe to any alumni listservs, take it off your resume. We all know college graduates, on average, have larger paychecks than non-grads. This step insures that you will have the best possible footing when it comes to getting poor.
2) Pay off all your outstanding IOUs. Think back hard about what you owe. Give back the 50 cents you borrowed from Buddy in the second grade for the bag of Swedish fish. Give your mom the money she lent you to go see Ghostbusters when you spent your allowance on the Michael Jackson CD. Whatever it is, pay it off. This is sure to make a dent in your wallet. You'll be on your way to the poorhouse in no time.
3) Quit your job and do not change your standard of living.
4) Choose any combination of the following:
- Have kids, lots of kids. Have them in twos or threes for quicker results.
- Paint your walls with gold leaf paint and install gold toilet bowls in your bathroom.
- By 600 acre of the swampland that’s been for sale for years with no buyers.
- Sponsor somebody’s scientific research project in Antarctica.
- Pay to have a picture of your face plastered onto a rocket ship.
- Ditch the tent or cheap motel and spend your next vacation in a five-star resort in Aruba.
- Buy a five-star resort in Aruba.
- Invest in stock for the Anchorage Alaska Agouti Farm.
5) If all else fails, donate it to charity. Sure it's boring and goody-two-shoesy, but it's also affective and will get you to your goal. And hey, we like it when kids in Africa get fed and manatees survive.
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