Let’s all move to Denmark. And never change our pants.

I wear the same clothes almost every day. I have a few shirts and three pairs of Forever XXI jeans I got for $9.50 each (Sorry, child laborers. But not that sorry.). I am happy to sport this minimalist wardrobe because this frugal life choice has led me to revenge. Sweet, sweet revenge.

Last week, I cashed in this revenge. It was loud. It was triumphant. It was FREEDOM. It was this:

A zero balance on the big fat student loan that once hovered over me like a cloud full of lead. This very vocal cloud has told me I couldn’t/shouldn’t travel. It’s reminded me I am actually poorer than all the homeless people who ask me for coins. It’s wrapped me in spending guilt and and laughed every time I thought I had amassed any savings.

And now it’s gone. Poof.

This is freedom. This is Shawshank Redemption (without the old guy who kills himself.) And it feels magical. It was worth wearing the same shirt for three days in a row even though it kind of smelled like cheese. It was worth forgoing big spending and tiny pleasures. Because I am no longer indebted to “the man,” who is really a bunch of banks who can’t even be trusted with their own money. Banks may be bad at investing, but they sure are good at mailing out reminders and balance statements.

It’s been almost ten years since that fateful trip to my grad school’s financial office where the “school employee” who was really a salesman convinced me to take out the loan for the LARGEST AMOUNT POSSIBLE.

“It’s the smartest idea,” he said. “You’ll just save everything you don’t use and then you’ll have a big chunk of money after you graduate so you can open your own business.”

Before I could question, he said,“You’ll be hard pressed to get a business loan after you graduate, so taking out THE MOST money now is really the best bet.”

I didn’t even know if I wanted to start my own business, but this fucker was good. His face was slightly smashed in, so when he grinned and told me about his kids, I had to trust him.

I signed paper after paper.
And, just like that, I owed fifty grand.
FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS.
To pay for a school that didn’t get me a degree but a certificate.
A certificate.

I don’t readily admit that to anyone, but in my financial rage, there you have it. I don’t really have a Master’s degree even though I spent FIFTY GRAND and two years at a ‘grad’ school studying creative advertising. A certificate sounds so cheap. IT WASN’T CHEAP! It cost 50 grand. Did I mention it cost FIFTY GRAND? And all I got was a piece of pink paper that I couldn’t even use to get ‘recent grad’ discounts because it looked fake.

You can’t tell a twenty-two year old to take out the maximum and save it. Especially if her particular scholastic program sends her to Miami, New York, San Francisco, London, and Sao Paulo. Of course I spent the whole damn fifty grand. And visited ten times the countries they sent me to. I bet I could have done it on much less. I could have learned to be frugal then. BUT I HAD FIFTY GRAND IN THE BANK. An all-inclusive trip to the Dominican Republic? Well… I am in Miami, so I guess I should. A new slutty outfit to wear when I get there? You can’t go to the Dominican Republic without a slutty outfit. A two-week jaunt to Spain? I mean… I have the money in my account…

Yeah.
It was fun.
No regrets.

But suddenly I graduated and had a job that paid me nothing and I owed $600 a month.
Shit. Shit. Shit.

Then I had to wear the same shirt every day out of necessity. I couldn’t afford a car. I felt pinned to life by my loans. And glued to advertising. I didn’t like this new career, but I couldn’t quit because I had to pay up. Yes, I got to travel, but now I was paying for it in my cubicle prison.

STUCK. Stuck. Stuck.

Pissed at the man.
Pissed at America for allowing debt to be the American way.

Students in Denmark get a government stipend to go to college. They PAY the STUDENTS to go to college. Doesn’t that make more sense? Doesn’t it seem stupid to make it HARD to get smarter? Maybe our global power wouldn’t be slipping away from us if higher education was easily attainable in the U.S.? In China, it costs between $500 – $1000 for higher education. My tuition was $28,000 plus living expenses, which ended up being FIFTY GRAND (not sure if you heard). According to this fascinating article here, some colleges argue that they can’t lower their prices for fear of seeming less prestigious. That’s disgusting. That’s like me saying I’ll stay single if I wear the same thing every day. (Oh.)

Blasphemous.

And just rude.

Loans are just rude.

So, I decided to get back at the banks and my school and that salesman. And I made it this year’s goal to be cheap with myself and pay off those fucking loans as early as possible. They weren’t getting 5% interest from me for thirty years. Hells to the no.

Last week, seven years after I graduated, I clicked ‘submit’ and paid off the last of the fifty grand. With all that interest, I have no idea how much I actually paid over the years. I’m too scared to calculate, but it’s surely more than fifty grand. Dammit! They got me a little, but in the end: I WIN! It feels so good I could buy a shirt!

I encourage all to get back at those interest-sucking banks and expensive educations. Go to school in Denmark. Forgo the new boots once in a while and send in a little extra per month to your loans. Do it. Get revenge! And if you don’t have any loans, fuck you.