Sunday, October 12, 2008

I feel so grown up.

I've done something I keep telling myself I'm going to do--set up an investment account. I hear the panic (well, quiet thought it may be; I'm pretty sure there's not a ton of people who keep tabs on what I'm doing on any given day) coming from the peanut gallery, "OHMYGOD, the market's tanking! What an idiot thing to do!"

Actually. No. Until this point, investment was a rich man's game. Think of it like poker--it was a $10,000 buy in, and I didn't have it. Now, with a crappy market...eh. I can afford buy in at a $200 table (that's just my initial investment; I'm only putting in $100 a month to follow--crazy, not stupid). I'm not going to make millions off my chump change investments, but I can at least buy a whole share of several stocks as opposed to a part of a share of one.

And, technically, I'm not risking any more cash per month than I wouldn't have voluntarily pissed away in books or yarn or...well. Not much else, really. I'm a simple girl. So, I can either have more stuff to dust and pack up for when I move into my own digs, or I can take a gamble at a (fairly good risk, actually--I'm letting smarter people than me pick my stock options) future. Building wealth; what a concept. And maybe something my working class ancestors would cringe at, but what has such radical financial conservativism bought them? A continuing ticket into the working class.

Hark at me, I'm getting uppity!

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