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star-sailor (profile) wrote,
on 9-2-2008 at 9:26pm
Current mood: confused
Music: Leave The Light On - Priscilla Ahn
Subject: The Difference Between Stalactites and Stalagmites Is Their Placement
I suppose now is a better time than never. I suppose that the trickling effect that this news will have will automatically perform its desired intention, as gossip and rumours always seems to do so well.

I'm moving.

If you stalk me (like I know you do) you may remember my entry back in March on Xanga, where I contemplated the same thing. I was told, back then, that I was to be moving into the upstairs attic/loft space on the second floor of my Grandma's house - which is on the west side of town - and we would be abandoning the home I've lived in for so long. For more specific details, read that.

Anyway, my mom was in charge of those plans, and I know my mom. Thus, I didn't expect much. I didn't really think this whole moving thing would get off the ground, because I know how much she procrastinates, and how unwilling she is to do things herself, or to get things done in general. Place that on top of the fact that I hate change and didn't really want to move in the first place, and you come up with the synopsis that this was a false alarm, and nothing would happen, which is exactly how things ended up.

Seven months later, the proposition arises, and I find out the full extent of things. Frankly, we aren't - and never have been - rich, in any sense of the word. My mom's a teacher, after all, and it's not exactly like my afterschool job, much less my affluent career at Marble Slab, exactly puts me into a six figure situation. We have enough money to get by, and to do so comfortably, which has been enough for the longest time. Yeah, occasionally a bill wouldn't get paid, and sometimes I couldn't afford that whatever-it-was that I absolutely must have had at the time. But we had food, a roof, and a bed, and sort of had air conditioning. No complaints, eh?

Well, my future is now in the spotlight. The fact is this: Before now, with these last several years at TCC, I've been spending a minuscule amount of funds for school compared to some of my peers. But now I'm running out of classes to take at TCC; in other words, it's finally time for me to move on to a university. As joyous a proposition as that is, that will most certainly require insurmountable amounts of funds we certainly don't have. If I want any hope of paying off the fusillade of student grants and loans that I will be assailed with after the appropriate John Hancocks have been scribbled down, I will need some help. My mom can't provide that on her current salary amidst the tirade of bills at present. With this house - besides the irreverently large mortgage, which apparently my mom has paid very little of over the last some-odd years - comes utilities, amongst other expenses. And though the house is nice, parts that kinda should be repaired are not being repaired due to the same lack of funds.

My grandma's house is old. I'm talking OLD - almost a century old, if I'm not mistaken. And frankly, for such an old house, it's in a wonderful condition. No serious damage, mostly in shape. It could use a thorough remodeling, sure, and it's a bit small, but by and large, it's in great shape. And, it's entirely paid for - no money owed. That immediately eliminates one very large bill. Then, my mom will be splitting the utilities with my grandma, thus making the payments a mere dwarf of their former self. Economically, it's the best move.

But again, if you know much about me, you'd no I'm not a very frugal cat. Not to say I'm wasteful, but if I were to have a spectrum of important things and unimportant things, money would be desperately far to the unimportant side. I love my house. I'm connected to it. I can't explain why I want to stay in this silly house, for of course, it is just a house. I know for a fact it's just my general resistance to change. But I really don't want to lose this house - a house I have spent 17 years of my life (or longer) growing up in. This isn't someone else's house, or someone else's future house: it's MY house. It's hard to part with my house, my backyard, my adventurous nearby places (like the nearby alley, or a small field behind my house), my neighbourhood, my part of the city. It's mine. I want to keep it.

If I moved though, I would inherit the upstairs. It's small, but a bit shocking, to be honest. A small apartment, in essence: a kitchen-space (with no appliances, though), bathroom, living room, and bedroom. Easily enough space for one person. In fact, my mother and father lived in the space before moving into my current house. I will be disconnected from the rest of the house - from my mom and grandma - in my own space high above the ground, the only entrance being an outdoor staircase. I freely admit that the house isn't in the best neighbourhood - in the barrio, quite frankly - but the crime in that particular section has been limited to random graffiti taggings of abandoned houses. I will be, as Amie puts it, "one step closer to independence," which is entirely true.

I've ran this by those who are important to me. Their opinions mean wonders to me, because to me, their opinions come first. All have applauded the plan, agreeing that it is a good move, despite my displacement and moving farther away from them. Leslie was even a bit jealous that I'll have so much space to myself. I have their approval, and I have started to push forward with the move.

Again, my mom shows her stripes by being as slow as possible in this endeavour. So for the most part, I've taken the reigns in organizing, making sure my mom schedules plumbers, gives me boxes for the irreverently large amount of THINGS we've crammed into this house, and have started the steady packing process. It's getting done. I wish we were getting things done at a faster pace, but I suppose I can't expect too much. As said, I hate change, so while I'm changing, I'm intending to go through this process as quickly and as painlessly as possible.

In other news, I'm completely healthy again. No detectable problems besides my tongue turning white-ish from the antibiotics I was taking for my weirdness. I remain a vegetarian with Leslie, and since that day we decided to go for this commitment, I haven't eaten one piece of meat, and am very proud of the accomplishment. I want to learn to cook more, possibly even get into Indian food, but that's distant future, thank you much. I'm emotionally VERY confused for numerous reasons I won't get into unless you are Leslie or Amie (if you want to know, ask me!). I have been changing up my fashion style, and I like the changes. A lot! My classes have been wonderful this semester, and I don't feel like I have to go into detail to express how content I am with them. I found some wonderful books lost on a bookshelf which I am commandeering; therefore, I hope to be doing a lot more reading these days. Avec en espoir, je deviendrai améliores avec le Français. Je suis reste mauvais. I'm writing a lot in Voilà!; try to keep up, if you'd like. That's it.
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