in over his head

We have just moved a lot of our stuff into our vast new home: five bedrooms, two kitchens, two bathrooms, front yard, front porch, back porch, basement… BUT I cannot help move today because I have class all day, have to capture footage, have to edit Avid, AND the house has doors that don’t close, fucked-up carpets, walls need repainted, a wobbly fridge that doesn’t work, three washers and only one dryer, strange wiring, one missing doorknob, a room with a fan and no lights, a room with a light and no fan, a closet door with no handle, noises?, musky basement… Many of these are nitpicky, but you better believe I’m going to have them documented. I’m not getting screwed.

A group of black dudes on our street also yelled to Paul, “oh, the crackers are moving into the neighborhood.” This really bothered him, I think. But if it had been me they said it to, I would have yelled back, “If you’re gonna call me something, call me a kike!”

This place is a thousand dollars a month. It’s really convenient. It’s temporary. And for the record, I like it. If I hear one more person talk shit on it I may flip out. This is, for all intents and purposes, the first real independent decision of my adult life, (the first important one anyways, besides what to have on my italian hoagie), and if it’s doomed to fail then I’M the one to accept those ramifications. Which leads me to my next aptly placed paragraph:

My mother paid for the Chemistry class I had to retake. As well as some dental bills. Not to look ungrateful or anything, but I really am resenting this. I TOLD her that I would pay them. I told her that I need to take care of them. She’s spent the last four-going-on-five years paying for me to be out here surviving. She wasted God knows how much money on me for eighteen years of my life before that. I wanted to be forced into a situation where I would have to fend for myself. I hardly ever asked for money until she said it offended her that I didn’t. I NEVER wanted a cell phone. And now that I’m starting to get into a position where I can and should do it on my own, she keeps finding excuses to intercede. She’s my mother and I love her, but she needs to stop doing this. It’s embarrassing, emasculating, and unnecessary.

It’s not like I can’t take care of it on my own. Oh no! I have to pay my own bills? I guess I’ll have to go without pot or alcohol for the rest of my life! Oh no! Give me a break. Life’s not as hard as everyone makes out. I’d like to actually be a part of it, if you don’t mind.

SELF-reliant. SELF-sufficient. I can ask for help when I need it. WHEN I need it. I’m not too macho to realize when I’m in over my head. WHEN I’m in over my head. Things are going well for me now.

She said that it was my graduation present. So… basically, my graduation present is to be able to graduate. That sounds like more of a present for her.

I miss my mom.

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