I just devoured three slices of Dominos like it was the best thing that happened to me in days. I'm afraid it was. I don't even really like pizza so that's shit right there. My days are pretty full of stress even without classes, surprisingly. I'm juggling two high-pressure internships, David is in China and hasn't contacted me at all in 4 days, I'm living alone in the apartment as Rachel went home for the summer, I'm obsessively cleaning up after my mice infestation, and my grandfather just got finished with his second stay in the hospital. I feel numb to most of it, dealing with little bits at a time. Lately, what has been paining me is the fact I spend such an enormous amount of time alone. I don't have that many close friends from school. Those I do have were from over an hour away. Nicole, for example, my closest friend is from Jersey. She's in town a few days a week but that's to work all day so it's not like I'm going to see her those days. I miss my friends from home. It's practically like I beg them to visit me but they've got their own lives. It's maddening to go to two different internships where hardly anyone talks to me every day of the week, spend every evening alone, and weekends, too. Matt came over last Saturday but that was my last friendly human contact. I can only hope it's completely the fact I'm spending most of my time at my apartment in Brooklyn I feel like a loser. I'm not a loser. I have two great internships, a boyfriend who loves me, a nice apartment, food to eat. But, none of that matters if I have no one to share it with. Sure I could be wrong but I look around and I don't see anyone. I pick up the phone and I don't feel like I can talk to any of my friends. My distance is my worry, I know. *sigh* I needed to write.

I wanted to spend this break in Brooklyn but I didn't because after the holiday I got the flu, then I got three Emergency Room migraines in two weeks, then my mom got the flu, then I got my top wisdom teeth out. Excluding select moments hanging out with David, friends, etc...this break really bombed. I'm paying for an apartment that my mom's to sick to take me back to, David's too busy. If I go back there's a risk I could get another headache that will be so bad I may be stranded, unable to take myself to the emergency room. That's pretty scary. Plus, my mom is really pushing me to follow through with doctors to find out why I'm getting them this badly. My primary care physician wants to get me into a migraine clinic (like at Columbia in the city) but nowhere is taking my insurance so that process has seemingly stalled. I think I'm going to try to go back to the apartment this weekend but I'll be back for a dentist appointment on the 25th undoubtedly. I've got to follow up a cavity that he found before he took out my wisdom teeth. Ah yes, winter breaks make the semester look good at times.

I am fucking done. with this. semester.

I'm going to miss it. I'm going to miss Michael's disorganized unprofessionalism and unconditional support of my future career as a designer rolled up into one package of a professor. I'm even going to miss my shitty-ass block of girls who hate me because hating me is fashionable, hating me is the new black. If they didn't hate me, they didn't say anything to girls who were incredibly childish and rude to me in class for no reason at all. That is just as bad if not worse. Being around people like that made me aware that bullies in the most basic of forms are still out there, as silly as that may seem. One aspect of this semester I wont miss is Maddy. Her constant attempts to gossip my ear off about other girls in the class and her love life made me wear out the battery on my MP3 player many-a-time. "Gosh Maddy, I do wonder why it is you aren't pulling in those As!" But, most of all I will miss doing residential design. Next semester is completely commercial and institutional design. I fear that my ambition for designing furniture and objects may not translate over. I can do it, I have before for past commercial projects but it's always more of a stretch to get to that goal.

Right now I'm in the computer lab at school and I'm waiting for David to make his way into Manhattan so we can do some Christmas shopping. I only started last night with Ryan. Tomorrow I'm going home and spending about a week there I figure. I miss my friends. I'm excited to see everyone and spend the holiday at Maya's. After that...I don't know. I've got the whole apartment all to myself for the whole month. Rachel went on home to New Orleans. I'm totally in love with the peace and quiet so far. Plus, it's been much easier to keep it clean haha.

I do fear David got lost somewhere along the way.

So Michael Buchanan, who I love (don't get me wrong), changed this country house's program on me yesterday. Ok. I'll take into consideration that for the maybe...two or three people who read this (George, Dan, Mark?) you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm doing a country house and our program is the description of what the project is about and what we're going to have to do for the presentation. The only time Michael EVER speaks to us as a class is when he's explaining to us the program and telling us what changes he's making to it. It's typical to make changes to a program when it's first given out because a program is a FIT interior design curriculum standard and therefore Takashi's baby and therefore needs a little tweak to become realistic. It's not realistic to change a program the week before the project is due. Some people apparently knew, maybe found out last Friday, that we're supposed to render all of our perspectives. Michael and I were in agreement that I was only rendering two of mine because that's what the program called for. Yesterday when he was taking a look at where I was so far I didn't get the usual "You're in great shape, you're ahead, good job." I got "You're rendering all 4, right?" Holy shit! That's an extra two watercolors! My eyes literally started tearing as I just sat there and nervously laughed. I told him "I time manage for a reason. I have a paper for another class, a writing assignment for another, a final in another, etcetera. I render really slowly and that's why I plan out my time like I do!" He just laughed and told me I'm "so anal" and he assured me I'd get it done. "Why are you so slow?" Ugh! I know he means well but he's never ever serious about anything and I take my work so seriously. I know Michael has a ton of faith in me to a fault. He has told me how far he thinks I'm going to go and having someone believe in you that much who is in the industry is like a priceless gift. Yet, I feel like he's testing me. Seeing how flexible I can be without quite breaking. This is, after all, how the real world works. There are no guarantees and no schedule is set in stone, right? I wish I could half ass it but personal pride is on the line. These are pieces that need to be shown to firms that may hire me when I break out of here. Those glass stairs? Yeah, they're my ticket out of Fashion School.

Go figure. Last week I was saying that school work was the only thing I could depend on and this week it's my undoing. I'm fucked and I'm not going to be sleeping until after next Friday. They're always testing how bad I want it, aren't they?

I have been thinking about how I want to write in here more, maybe every day. It's a way to take personal time. You know, just another way of expressing myself besides the design thing. I get more satisfaction from putting effort into a task than mostly anything else. I'm sitting in Environmental Experience now, a class' topic I'm still not familiar with in it's third-to-last week. At least I know I can write once a week! I need something to distract me from jumping over all these chairs and tearing off my professor's face! He is unbearable: rude, interrupting us when we're asking questions, talking in bullshit circles for 3 hours straight without giving us a break. I despise this man. I despise my block. I am full of hate and that's a horrible feeling. I don't want to feel this way...especially on a Friday.

Well, at least I get to go out to dinner with Sam when this is over.

I have an incredible case of cabin fever which I'm pretty sure, in this world of modern medicine, is just called mild depression. Upon coming back from her follow up appointment at Lutheran's clinic, Rachel reported back that the doctor told her she must walk on her ankle for it to heal. Before that she had only left bed to go to the bathroom because she was in so much pain. Since she was feeling a little bit better yesterday, we decided to try to take a trip to Target at the Atlantic Avenue Terminal. I had to return the shower curtain liner and rings I had bought since Rachel had already gotten one, anyway. Rachel can't put too much pressure on her heal because that's where most of the bruising is, so she walks mainly on the ball of her foot. We made our way there and did some shopping according to what we thought we could carry back (which isn't nearly enough). I'm seriously in need of one of those push granny carts for laundry and groceries by the way. If anyone is looking for something they can get me as a cheap, thoughtful housewarming gift - that is it! Granny cart. One that folds.

Back to Atlantic Avenue...it's pretty great. Especially to my eyes that haven't seen anything but a long line of bodegas in every direction since Saturday's painful trip to Cosco. Besides just a lot of subway transfers and Target, there's a DSW, Houllihans, Marshalls, Pathmark, Daffy's, Cold Stone, and a PC Richards. We picked up some rabbit ear indoor antenae for the TV at PC Richards for just 8 dollars, too. I'm happy to announce we now get all the basic, non-cable channels and can watch all the shitty network TV our little hearts desire. And you can bet that's what we've been doing. I'm not sure if it's saving my sanity or driving me more crazy just staring at the boob tube instead of at the wall.

Ever since we got home from Target, Rachel has been saying her leg muscle is cramping up from walking on the ball of her foot and now she's back in incredible pain. Too much pain to do anything but occasionally hobble around the house. She did do some dishes before and make her own peanut butter sandwich which I appreciate. Ever since we've moved in, my allergies have been out of control and today has been the worst so far. I'm sure it's a mix of the dog and the dust that is still here from them building it and no one living here for awhile. Luckily I got myself an appointment at the clinic tomorrow to get a prescription for something. Feeling miserable has made doing things around the house that much more tedious, especially in today's case. I'm still taking out the dog constantly, too. Yesterday we had a whole day with no accidents inside but no such luck today. Bella pissed on the floor before and I've had it up to here *levels palm* with cleaning up after her. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tired of playing Mommy. I know Rachel appreciates it because she tells me so. Yet, Rachel is back to laying down all the time instead of trying to make it better by walking or making another appointment to see someone at the clinic if it's actually getting worse like she says. If I sugest to her to do any of these things anymore than I already have, I'll definitely be fitting into that Mom roll even more and I would much rather be her roommate and friend. And sometimes walking the dog is fine just not a half dozen times a day when I'm the only one doing it!

I'm frustrated and emotional and lonely. That's fair to say. Get it...cabin fever? I have been in this apartment all day. I can hardly even figure out a reason to leave by myself when I very well know I can. I was just talking to David on the phone and he was telling me to just come to his house, stop worrying about if everything is taken care of or not. But I can't do that! I can't leave Rachel here when she says she can't take out the dog herself and the dog isn't housebroken. These are nice wood floors for Christ sakes! Plus, I just got here and leaving now is like giving up. Not on the apartment but on my relationship with my roommate. Again, I don't want to be her best friend but it's a big fuck you to leave her when she's saying she's in so much pain she can't walk. I do owe it to myself to at least get out of here for awhile tomorrow. After my appointment I'm going to Bed, Bath & Beyond in Chelsea by myself. I seek refuge in crowds of other people shopping, running errands...just like me. Oh yeah, and I have a gift card.

Now, you see, if I just had internet I could shop from home and then I could have furniture. If Rachel felt better we could go thrifting and I could get some furniture that way as well. If I had furniture then I could put some of my stuff in boxes away and we could mop. Then my allergies would also feel better. And if I just had internet I could post this entry with the headline "SEND HELP" and all my friends who read this would see it and call me instead of not calling because they think I'm busy. Or I could just call them and ask them to come in and keep me company and go out with me. Even if they say no then at least they would know that I'm not at all too busy to talk to them on the phone. That's the only way I can talk to them.

I'm in the new apartment. How anticlimactic, right?

All my shit is here. Well, nearly all of it excluding about half a dozen boxes filled with childhood jazz. I thought I didn't have a lot of stuff but when you pack it all up into boxes, label them, and try to fit them onto a 10' Budget Rent-A-Truck like a game of Tetris...it suddenly became clear to me that I do indeed have a lot of stuff. I have too much stuff and, not only that, I'm realizing I need even more stuff just to live! I wish I could trade some of what I don't want for some of what I need but I'm pretty sure no one else would want my crap either. Even though there is a lot, I keep in mind that it's concise and I use all of it. Who else can say that? I'm fortunate for moving so much in the sense that I get to go through all of my possessions so often that I really do know what I own. It's rare I keep things that are useless for sentimental reasons.

The move itself went about as well as it could have. My mom's boyfriend Ron's friends helped as well as David. Loading was quick, we got lost getting to the apartment, unloading was also quick. Ta da! Cut to the rest of my time here as a citizen of Sunset Park, Brooklyn. The apartment is beautiful except the floors could use a good mop-over still. I'll wait until I'm overwhelmed with ambition to get to that. After we got all of my stuff in on Saturday, David offered to take Rachel and I to Cosco which is right down 3rd Avenue. We were getting bottled water and about to leave when one of those big wooden palettes they use to lift things on the fork lifts, which was standing up and leaning against something awkwardly, must have been knocked into and fell down right onto Rachel's ankle. Since it was obviously an accident that could have been avoided had an employee been doing their job, Rachel's persuing legal action through David's Mom's firm (she's a paralegal). Anyway, Rachel had to be taken in an ambulance to Lutheran Medical Center which is literally right down the block from our apartment. David left to hang out with his ex-roomie Brendan who is staying in Brooklyn for the summer. I stayed with Rachel in the ER for a couple hours while she got her ankle x-rayed, wrapped up, and got a tetnis shot. It's just really badly bruised and scraped up but not broken, though she can't walk on it. Now Rachel is on crutches and I'm in charge of everything. That's where things got tough.

Bella is Rachel's adorable Bishon Frise puppy who is 4 1/2 months old. Don't get me wrong, Bella is a great dog who is very well behaved and I love her but I was under the impression she was almost completely if not completely housebroken and she definitely is nothing of the sort. It's driving me insaaaane! I don't know how to housebreak a puppy! She is non-stop pissing and shitting in the apartment. I understand that these are brand new surroundings for the dog. But, even when I take her out and she doesn't do anything she'll wait until she's upstairs to let it all goooo. I'm afraid of our floors getting ruined and the place smelling and I'm downright sick of cleaning it up. We're almost our of paper towels! You wouldn't believe how many walks I'm taking Bella out on per day, too. I'd say at least 8? And except for last night when she went poo down the block, ALL were totally dry. Now what I'm trying is just putting her in her kennel right after her meal, waiting awhile, walking her and if she doesn't go then kenneling up again and walking her until she does feel like doing something. Pretty boring for the dog but I'm not the entertainment director for the Puppy Cruise.

Besides that, I've been trying to cook dinners with not a whole lot of food on hand and missing a lot of tools (can opener, oven mit come to mind). Last night we had egg salad in whole wheat pitas and the night before we had fish sticks and mac & cheese. This afternoon Rachel had to follow up at Lutheran's clinic for her ankle and her Uncle Johnny took her. He was kind enough to get us Chinese food which we'll probably finish for dinner so I don't have to make ravioli which is pretty rockin'. I would have had to get salad dressing for the salad and more paper towels and whatever else we need from the store and I'm exhausted. I can't shake an incredible tired feeling. My skin is pastey and I have red circles around my eyes that won't go away. It's not even like I've cared what I look like for at least a couple weeks.

I'm eager to get the show on the road. I'm eager to get to Target, Bed Bath & Beyond, and Ikea. We need so much! Even my empty wallet won't deny it. Rachel just needs to feel better ASAP. It sucks to see her in pain over such a stupid accident. Oh, and the dog needs to hold it in. It's incredibly boring around here if you don't feel like/can't unpack, too. We don't get our internet or cable hooked up until Wednesday the 16th. Thanks, Time Warner. What a way to start off a beautiful relationship. Yesterday and Saturday night I was able to pick up on some rouge wireless linksys connection but I haven't been able to get that for hours. That alone has depressed me. To entertain ourselves we've already watched both of my dvds, Outbreak and Boondock Saints. Yeah, I only own two DVDs. Oh, and last night we played *drumroll* the game of Life! How ironic.

Speaking of above stores, Kerri and Rachel from Lexington gave me a gift card to Target the day I left. How sweet of them, right? I got so sick my last day there, too. How can people not notice someone trying to sell them furniture is not feeling well? I looked like I was going to puke! I was pale, broken out in a cold sweat, etc. etc. and the woman who I was working with was asking me to try out mattresses with her and what I thought of different headboards. Haha. She was this really nice designer who was buying a bed for her son but, c'mon. Open your eyes lady, I'm dying! I had been getting really bad migraines for all of that week. On the previous Wednesday I had to go to the ER and they did the typical Morphine/Reglan thing which helped the pain enormously. Unfortunately though, Morphine makes me throw up for like a full day after I get it. While David was visiting, I was all about throwing up. That was pretty embarrassing but he promised me he think any less of me, haha. My neurologist couldn't make an emergency appointment for me even under the conditions I was having a terrible problem and I was moving. Fuck him. I've got to get established with a new primary care doctor here who will refer me to a new neurologist, I suppose. If I have an emergency here at least I know I can just saunter down the block to Lutheran.

The Thursday before I left, Bethany and I were supposed to go bowling and when we got there I was so surprised to see Jackie Simms, Jamie, Ryan, Maya, Lyz, Melissa, and Bethany's boyfriend Billy. They threw me a going away party! We had so much fun, too. We were definitely the only people there enjoying the music and dancing. Bethany gave me a gift card to Bed Bath & Beyond from her, Mike Skarr, Mike Hakans, and Dan Stoeker which was so incredible of them! It will be such a huge help. Now if only I could steal some wireless so I could shop online rrrr...

I still believe that if I had even less money I would have the capacity to be happy. I must say that having the lack of money I have (or don't have) now is wearing on me, though. I'm working 40 hours and not seeing any of this 10 dollars per hour I'm bringing home. Ever since we got the apartment, any spare moment I get at work is spent meticulously planning when I'll deposit the next paycheck and what it will be going to. Not a second seems to go buy when I'm not thinking about "How much will movers cost?", "How much will Rachel want me to pitch in toward furniture?", "How will I pay for my month Metrocard during August without my loans?", "What if I don't have enough money for things I really need?". It sounds extreme and maybe I'm overreacting. I'll tell you right now that once I get in there I will only have a certain amount of money in the bank and that amount isn't sufficient for all the little expenses craving attention. Also, if I can only get my financial aid and loan money through school one or (worse) two weeks into school starting - how will I pay my second month's rent? My mom and my grandfather have asked about that last one and I'm not sure what to tell them without sounding like a fool or crying. The great scramble to get the checks and pay rent isn't uncommon. I saw an ID friend of mine, Wendy, go through it last fall.

Yesterday morning I woke up extra early so I could mail my signed copy of the lease with a check for half of the security, half one month's rent, and half the realtor's fee. I will share this total with you all, though I'm sure doing so lacks taste: $2475. That doesn't include the $250 I owe Rachel's Mom, Michelle, toward the holding deposit. Realtors are crooks, by the way! Anyway, Jady, the bitch who worked with us in the realtor's office called me today with her panties in a bunch about how they don't take personal checks and how it was "all over the receipt!" What receipt? Oh, the one my roommate who lives in New Orleans has? Yeah, it was that one. I'm pretty sure one of the many times I was on the phone with Jady or Tricia (from the same office) they could have told me what I could have sent if not a personal check. And, Jady was kind enough to add that the landlord wanted his money Saturday. It isn't like they didn't know when I was sending what! Perhaps someone should have answered one of the two different phone lines I tried calling before I mailed the personal check to actually ask if it was ok I was mailing a motherfucking personal check!

I really need to stop cursing as much. David's friend Greg mentioned it to David. Granted, not in a negative way (or so I heard), but the fact he mentioned that I curse a lot at all means I curse too much and should probably curb that a little. I don't want it to be a noticeable characteristic of mine. " That's right, Frances is trashy!"

I digress. Yesterday was supposed to be a semi-joyful day which I would be able to look back on and think "That's the day I signed my life away for a home that I love." Instead it's just the day before my realtor tore up my goofy Sylvester and Tweedy Bird check and two days before I have to spend $15 to send $2475 in money orders overnight. Take my money, Rapid Realty, so I don't have to stare at it, knowing you won't let me keep it anyhow! The point I'm getting at is my mind is sopping wet with worry. Mostly all of these worries are money related and every single one of those worries have to do with the move. I know I am letting all of it get to me and therefore I'm irritable and sensitive and emotional. Normally I can always put on a happy face and get done what needs to be done but for some reason...moving effects every single aspect of life. Even school and work I can deal with better than this. I have hope that I will get in I'll be able to once again channel my never-let-'em-see-you-sweat attitude.

Maybe something about the tangible quality of space will do it? It seems to motivate every other area of my life.

This is definitely going to be a rant, I'm sure of it.

Have I fallen off the face of the fucking Earth? I must have. I'm in purgatory. The only friends I have who actually communicate with me during a time when I need a support system most are officially: Sarah, David, Ryan. That's the list. Mark hung out with me over a week ago at a gay bar but I haven't heard from him (I've been busy too so it's understandable). I'm wondering whatever happened to earlier this summer when everyone hung out together all the time and we found something to do even when there was nothing? I'm not using this Live Journal to call people out on their ill deeds, I don't want anyone to think that's my objective by posting right now. The way it seems to me is that the people I want to see don't care to see me. I have assumed everyone is busy working or going about whatever they've been doing but this doesn't seem to always be so and now I'm pretty disappointed. My feelings are hurt because it's not the first time for this. When I think about everything there is to do and get and schedule before I move the first week of August it stresses me out so much I can barely function. It's a totally different type of stress than what school has given me. Plus, my mom won't let up on the constant negativity and criticism. I haven't stopped shaking for three days and I'm bogged down with anxiety. Right now I'm sure that this process could be so much easier if I had people around who I felt like I could talk to and who I knew wanted to be around me. I'm sad to say that moving now is for the best for more than just a change of physical environment. I don't think I have as much to depend on here as I thought I did. I was telling Rachel on the phone earlier that we should have a housewarming party but I'm seriously doubting the success of something like that.

I wanted to leave in celebration, and with people to share it with. Now it's just another situation I need to struggle through.

First, let me say that it's my night off (before my day off) and I should be doing about anything except writing in my LiveJournal yet here I am. Ever since Jamie left to go back to New Paltz for school and the help line she'll be running, no one has really been around. I've seen Sarah once and David about twice a week or so. Sam just got home from Alaska and was here for barely a week before she was off again to England today. She's studying abroad in a King Arthur program. From what she tells me, the classes and field trips and all the free time they have sounds like a great way to spend a month. But, in a selfish way I wish she wanted to be home with her best friend. Lately I've been feeling so much stress and pressure that I want to be able to distract myself with my friends and be able to talk to someone. When I sit at the end of the day, I really don't feel like I can do that right now with anyone. Bethany and Mark are distracted by boyfriends to the point I dare not bother calling. I love them no less but, eh, I don't want to hunt anyone down. Maybe I'll call faithful Maya to see if she wants to do anything tomorrow.

Or maybe it's for the best that I just wash some things by hand and start David's birthday present: designing the intensely pined-for Cheeseburger Room. That's all David want's for his birthday...a room/building/establishment shaped like a cheeseburger with "heated walls and floors". Basically I'm pretty sure he means a Cheeseburger restaurant that has all the characteristics thereof. I will do what I can! Most of my time off so far during this summer break hasn't been spent stretching my creativity muscle, though, much to my dismay. Who knows if I'll ever get my hands on my watercolors like I've been wishing.

It seems as if my time hanging out with friends is mostly up and many more tasks will take their place, though. All this stress and turmoil could only mean one thing of course: scenery change. Rachel, her Mom, her Uncle (who lives in Westchester), my Mom, and I all started looking for apartments the weekend of July 1st. We had become obsessed. I was on Craigslist every moment that I wasn't in the car with our gang, physically searching all over Brooklyn and Astoria, Queens. Rachel and her Mom had a California vacation waiting for them so we only had 5 days to find a place. That was a little unnecessary pressure and my Mom worried about how would effect their decision, making them take a place too soon. We saw some really interesting places in our travels, let me tell you! Some standard awful neighborhoods, through-the-roof rents, to my personal favorite; a place we were being shown as a representation of the layout of other locked apartments in the building. It had no locks, no windows, and the walls were covered in floor-to-ceiling sheets of black mold. I wouldn't even walk in! A real estate agent in Sunset Park finally led us to our apartment on 57th Street off of 2nd Ave. This was on the only day my Mom couldn't come with us so that's led to plenty of issues.

Here are the specs: brand new apartment that no one has ever lived in, brand new building with spotless halls and an elevator, brand new appliances, huge common area with a large living room, eating area next to a fair sized kitchen, 1 1/2 blocks up and 1 avenue over from the express 59th St. N train stop, nice family neighborhood which seems predominantly Puerto Rican, industrial area and water to our west and commercial area to our east by the subway. We were obviously psyched but the rent alone is $1650 which is $150 more than I wanted to spend a month without utilities. And wouldn't you know it - utilities aren't included! Think: gas/heat (at least we control our thermostat), electricity, phone, cable, and internet plus any other bills we may have. That's a worrisome amount of extra money but given the other places we had seen for $1600 and given that we'd take $1500 without utilities, it makes sense to me. The first month - getting half the deposit, realtor's fee, first month's rent, and security will nearly empty my bank account at $2725 in total. I was so looking forward to shopping for furniture once we got in but it looks like that may have to wait a little while. I'll be living with a bed, air conditioner, tv, laptop, and all my shit for a couple weeks I think. I certainly hope Rachel and her Mom understand my situation to the extent that I won't be the first one to suggest we go halfsies on a sofa! My Plan A to make up some of the difference monthly is to max out my hours at work study which will make me about $70 extra dollars a week, untaxed. Plus, I'll be getting my regular financial aid and I'm taking out a nauseatingly-large sounding $10,000 dollar private loan. Luckily, my loans and living costs are all I'll ever pay for my education since financial aid takes care of the rest. Few can say that. Compared to all my friend's loans they've taken out for their school costs it's nothing, but for me, that's a huge and scary amount!

Apparently all of this is also scaring my Mom. My Mom is easily scared of situations she's not in control of and terrible at listening/communicating in general. Her unease is driving me crazy. She has been on and off about whether or not she wants to be taken off as my cosigner. If I have to take it out alone and pay a 14.25% interest rate, I'm prepared. Though it sure would be nice for her to continue to cosign so I can get 7.25%! It's not like I'll ever let that debt be passed to her. Never! Is it wrong of me to have her cosign? Any thoughts? Then yesterday she told me she wishes I had taken another apartment altogether! Whoa whoa! First of all, Michelle (Rachel's Mom) put down the $500 deposit for this apartment already so they'll save it for us until it's time to sign the lease and pay! I signed a form committing to that deposit which wasn't the lease but damn, it was serious! And, if we were to drop this apartment it would be putting us back under pressure to find an apartment with time constraints. After all, I'd have to do 100% of the looking on either Wednesdays or Saturdays, my only days off. That would be difficult and a waste of money in train fair. When my Mom laid that on me I was so upset. She told me she had also heard from my Grandfather's cranky old friends that Sunset Park is a bad neighborhood. They haven't even been there in 20 some odd years and now they've put ideas into my Mother and Grandfather's heads! I know that it might take a few extra hours of work a week and I know that I may encounter obstacles with this apartment. I also know that it would be this case with any apartment but the factors in question would be different (i.e. a broke-down building) and I will do my best to make it work. That's all I ever do...my very, very best! That's what I'll continue to do because this apartment is a great opportunity. I cannot live here anymore, either. My Mom occasionally brings it up like a foolish option. Sure, I'll have spending money but no surfaces to work, no room to my own, no peace or privacy, no friends, and probably no chance of getting a car. I'm not going to let my college experience disappear over student loan money that everyone has to deal with! I want to show my Mom that I made the right decision by bringing her to the apartment and showing her the neighborhood myself. Sitting down and talking to Michelle would probably put her mind at ease, too. I keep encouraging her to give her a call but every conversation we have about loans, money, or the apartment gets so heated that she has no interest in anything I have to say.

It makes it that much harder to be optimistic. I so often feel like I'm in the position where I've got to prove myself or prove someone else wrong. That's a lot of strain and tension that can be motivating sometimes but right now it's just making everything harder. I've got a feeling that I'm not going to achieve any balance until I get out of here. Here's to hoping I achieve balance at all.

It's my lovely mother's birthday tomorrow so I'm waiting for her to fall asleep so I can move her birthday present. I bought her a bag from Overstock.com and it's reasonably badass. You know, all leather with some grommets and buckles and such. It's in my closet which is in her room (if you've never seen our apartment). I'm not even subtlety waiting for her to drift into dreamland. I just walked in a few minutes ago and paced back and forth trying to get a decent look at her eyes because there was glare from the TV. Of course, she is still awake for some reason. On any other night she'd be asleep at 9 without delay but because it's the night before her birthday and I'd like to move her gift and maybe scrounge a box to put it in, she needs to be watching TV. If someone walked around my bed staring at me...I'd be pretty creeped out. She's just pissed because before I called her out on being insensitive and a terrible listener. That's a daily thing around here. Anyone wondering about the more "personal" reasons why I'm moving? No. I doubt it.

I was at my grandfather's before and I love him but he's obnoxious and often beer-soaked. He's really old, ok? It's not like he's going to take up yoga! My mom was openly bitching about how she can't go to her job's golf outing's dinner thing because I have a doctor's appointment. I know, me and my damn headaches are such a pain in the ass! I was cleaning up around his apartment and I muttered to myself "Well, this wouldn't be a problem if I had a car and my license," to which my grandfather replied, "It's your damn fault you don't have you license!" Ok, I'll be the first to admit whenever something is my fault. I blame myself before I blame anyone else. But, when it comes to matters of my transportation it is 100% the combined fault (whether voluntary or not) my mom and my grandfather. I want to clear the air about why I don't drive or have my license right now, starting from the beginning. I never feel like I have a chance to do this with so many people so maybe I feel better if I spew it to the internet. I'll try to break this down as quickly as possible. When I was 16 in my Sophomore year of high school they had two different drivers ed sessions, one in the fall and one in the spring. I couldn't take either because they were almost a few hundred dollars to take and I just started working at the movie theater so I didn't have enough money saved up and my mom didn't have the money to give me. I figured I would just learn on my own. Unfortunately, since I was 12, my mom has been driving a 95' Saturn stick-shift with no power steering making it at times nearly impossible for her to drive. And she's a great driver who loves driving manual. It had never been an option to learn on the Saturn. My grandfather also gave away his Lincoln to my uncle who is an idiot for innumerable reasons I won't list and I couldn't even tell you what he did with it. I just know that my grandfather didn't think "Wow, maybe my granddaughter could use a car." When I went away to school and lived in Manhattan for an entire year; driving wasn't an issue at all. When I came home last summer, though, I was eager to learn and maybe get some experience in even if it wasn't enough time to get my license. I paid for 7 or 8 private lessons at $60 per lesson until school started again. Here I am, another summer giving me more time to try to do something about the deep hole of inadequacy I feel because I don't drive. My mom tried to sell the Saturn and buy a 90' Mustang from on of my grandfather's shady friends with intent to teach me on it. I really appreciate that she tried to help me out but the Mustang had a straight-up bum transmission and radiator fan issue, plus she put a set of new tires on the thing. Just yesterday we brought the Mustang back to my grandfather's friend and he gave my mom her money she spent on the car but not what she spent on the tires or on the minor work she had done trying to fix the leaking transmission fluid. The whole thing was very upsetting for my mom and my grandfather because it revealed to him that his friend was a shady asshole who tried to rip off his daughter. Yet, my grandfather didn't care enough to say anything to him about how he did the wrong thing. Luckily, the Saturn is still all ours and we still have transportation...it's just not transportation I can learn how to drive. I so badly wanted to schedule my road test before I moved in August!

When my grandfather said that to me before it really bugged me. I just got so sad because I wish I could have done something different. At this point, driving is the only part of my life I don't feel in control of...that and my health insurance, actually. And that's an entire separate novel! The money I have made at jobs and collected through financial aid had to go to school-related expenses. It hasn't been up to me, it's the sort of decision ID at FIT has made for me. There was no way I could have functioned this past semester without a laptop. Everyone in the class accepted that is another tool as essential to us as our drafting tools were starting in first semester! Now all my money needs to be saved toward first month's rent, security, furniture, and perhaps realtor fees for the new apartment. I'm trying to take out a private loan but I won't be getting it until the first week of school.

Most of the time whatever I've got isn't enough and it wears on me! It's been this way forever. My entire life. I want to stop coming home to medical bills my shitty school insurance didn't cover for some reason. I want to get my teeth fixed. They don't even have to be straightened with braces or veneers or whitened, you know? I just want my four wisdom teeth pulled out in hopes some of the crowding lets up around my two front teeth so they're not so set forward! And I want people to stop asking me why I don't drive because it's a long, long story that is never told right. To tell it makes me feel like I am a late bloomer. How is it that I will move out at 19 to build my own life while surviving a ruthlessly difficult education but I can't get over the confused looks I get when people find out I can't drive. Not to mention I'm sure it bothers David and Jamie and everyone else who has ever felt obligated to drive me somewhere. Ugh.

What have I learned today? Standing up for yourself with grace is nearly impossible. I can do it occasionally but there is an art in finding the subtle balance of "Fuck you!" and "Why don't you like me?" That art is one I haven't mastered. If you're reading this and you think you have, though, let me know.

I'll start with my job at the furniture gallery. It's my summer job and I am incredibly lucky to be able to work in the industry to whatever meager extent over my break. Lexington Home Furnishings is the smaller, less busy sister store of Classic Galleries which is this huge mecca of fussy design in Huntington Village. Every middle age woman on Long Island shops there, used to shop there whenever she had money, or wishes she shopped there for her furniture. Lexington is less high end but still on the high end side...if that makes sense. It does to us. And our furniture isn't as uniquely quirky, but instead it's all dark and for old ladies. My job took a lot of initial learning about manufacturers, lines, finishes, fabrics, catalogs, ordering, and what we have on the floor. I was overwhelmed for a week straight but the girls I work with, Rachel and Kerri, have been completely amazing to me and practically taught me everything. Especially Rachel. The thing about Rachel and the way she does things around Lexington is that it clashes with how our supervisor, Tara, does things. Tara is the owner, Allan's, daughter and though she's alright as a person, she's absolutely terrible to work with. She's only speaks in a condescending tone as if whoever she's speaking to is all of 5 years old. Her favorite phrases are "When you're done with that..." and "Just one more thing..." which when repeated over and over lose all sincerity. Tara only works at the store twice a week so running around for her like an animal for two days hasn't been that bad up until yesterday. For some reason I couldn't do anything right or fast enough for her. Maybe it's because she's only here two days a week and for those two days she's on her own damn agenda which hasn't included teaching me jack shit besides writing up upholstery orders. Kerri told me that if Tara was treating her like she was treating me yesterday, Kerri would have flipped out on her. I'm just not that kind of person though. I don't get outwardly angry like most adults do and I don't know if that's for better or for worse. After all, it lead to me feeling totally bullied with my former roommate Nicole. I don't mind being treated like a slave since I am low-man on the totem. But, when Tara treats me like an inferior idiot who doesn't listen to her or care about my work - I am deeply insulted because I put in so much of myself to everything I do. Even my dinky furniture gallery job. I'm trying to comfort myself with my checks at the end of every week.

Instead of somehow focusing my anger of being treated wrongly by my supervisor, it built up a bit more than I care to admit. Though I'm primarily passive, I can usually manage my energy well and it doesn't come back to bite me in the ass later on. My cooler head prevails most of the time. But not today, no. Tara came in today with her baby, Logan, who she is completely obsessed with. I know, mothers and their kids...go figure. I had brought in two of my own interior design magazines to look at and lent one to Kerri. I think Kerri may have left it out while Tara was there because when I went to leave for the day I couldn't find it. By this point, I had enough of Tara riding me and I was pissed that she took my magazine away and I was running around looking for it to see if she put it in one of the magazine racks on the floor. During this point of frustration I may have shouted, half-jokingly "Bitch stole my magazine!" while in the same room as Lynn who normally works at Classic Galleries and knows Tara and Tara's dad quite well. Rachel "shushed" me and I snapped back "I don't care, she hates me anyway!", which made Rachel laugh of course, haha. I said that because it bothers me that Tara doesn't like me. She doesn't even want to pretend to respect me as a person anymore. I am a firm believer that work is more pleasant when people can get along. Yet, I know this is the real world and most people don't possess that good nature and consideration. Tara talks down to everyone, including Lynn who I yelled "Bitch!" in front of, so hopefully it won't get back to Tara. It may, though. I guess I'll deal with the consequences of my word if need be. All of it seems so silly to even think about since it's just because she hid my magazine and I really don't mind her as a person. Tara is just a terrible person to work for. Oh, her dad likes me by the way. Just not her.

I wish I could say that's all that's been testing my will lately. Come early August, Rachel Harrison and I will be moving into an apartment in Brooklyn together. This is something we've been planning on for at least 6 months now. I've applied to loans and at least $190 dollars of each paycheck I get every week is going to the great apartment fund. That's exactly how serious I am about moving the fuck out of here. I refuse to listen to my mom telling me to move out every time she gets the slightest bit pissed. I'm tired of not having my own space or enough room to do my projects for class. And dammit, no more paying $239 per month so the LIRR will let me sit on a crowded train twice a day! I'll pass. All those who are having a cushy college experience somewhere with dorms and trees don't get it. I assure you, it all makes $700-750 per month in rent (not including utilities) look damn good.

Everything related to Rachel Harrison and I getting an apartment was all sunshine and lollypops right up until yesterday. I had been named the step mommy of her new bishon-frise puppy named Bella, I emailed her about buying furniture, and plans were being made about her and her mother flying up in the beginning of July to look at places with real estate agents. Yesterday Rachel calls me and tells me her friend Danielle wants in on our deal and wants to get a three bedroom with us. Whoaaa! What? I immediately thought of a lot of things, all of them not favoring this girl Danielle (who I have only met once in passing):

1. I don't know her. I have known Rachel for almost 2 years.
2. I don't want a 3rd bedroom because if it doesn't work out with Danielle then we'll have a 3rd bedroom to do something with and I'll hopefully be keeping this place after I'm done with my next 2 years at FIT.
3. Three girls never ever work. I've never heard of 3 girl roommates working, ever. What if I'm the odd man out? Rachel might be since she'd be in the middle of Danielle and I if I had a problem with her and vise versa. There is no stability and I'm desperately needing stability.
4. My mom doesn't like bringing in a 3rd family. Neither does Rachel's mom.
5. Rachel has indicated to me in so many words that Danielle smokes weed and likes having lots of friends over.

My vote has been a big "NO" on the idea all along but how do I break it to Rachel and this girl I don't really know without hurting anyone's feelings? Lucky for me, Rachel felt the same way I feel about all of the above so I didn't have to worry about hurting her feelings once I got to talking to her. Then we just needed to make sure Danielle got the message. That part has been bumpier. Instead of Rachel getting to call her friend then giving me a chance to contact her after - Danielle just happened to contact me first. There was no friend buffer! Just me, the girl Danielle hardly knows, telling her in the nicest way I could, "It's not personal! I can tell you're great and Rachel only says great things but my mom and I agree that having a third roommate isn't going to be a good idea. I've had past roommate issues and I've grown to get to know Rachel very well and that's why we're moving in together but she just brought you up to me yesterday. I'm very very sorry, I know you're having a hard time finding housing." Let me tell you: that is not what Danielle wanted to hear! No matter how nice I said it. Or how many times. Or how much I elaborated. She raised her voice, said "I have nowhere to live!" and practically hung up on me. Ugh, I don't want to live with anyone who acts like that on the phone to people they don't know! Now I know there's going to be future conflict with this girl since she'll remain Rachel's friend. I told Rachel that when she speaks to Danielle again to tell her that I'm very very sorry and I would like to start off on a clean slate so if we're ever hanging out next year, things will be cool. My intention was never to make an enemy or be the "bad guy". Yeah, I still think I did. Mind you, I don't think I could have handled myself any better.

Confrontations are terrible. Even when you're confident in yourself and you know what you're doing is right. I feel like they're always bad. Last night, Jamie and I went to see Ryan Barnes in Sayville and we were telling him how I calmly told a group of at least six girls at the Bedouin Soundclash show that it was rude of them to step in front of Jamie and I. I suggested that they step aside so Jamie and I could stand in front of them again. They did (with a lot of muttering). It was effective. I didn't curse or throw punches. Most of the time I still don't enjoy getting on people's cases since it's just so much easier to stand by and let it all go on as it is. Yet, I cannot imagine being passive toward something I consider threatening or rude or unjust upon me or someone I loved. It takes quite a bit for me to put my foot down but I'm not afraid. I admit, I wish I was a little better at it sometimes.

Tonight is ending up to be a quiet ending to a hectic couple of days. I'm thinking maybe tomorrow I will start a drawing I've been wanting to do. It should be at least one drawing of a bird sitting on or around a table. Who knows...it may turn into a series. I'm sure that the first drawing will be of an owl but I'm not sure what table I want to do yet. I have the Baroque silhouette table by Hivemind Design in my head but it's not as "right now" as I'm looking for. I'd like to design my own but the time-factor is intimidating. I also know I want the bird to have that Autobahn attention to detail. And it will all be done in watercolor since my objective is to practice. I haven't touched watercolors seriously since second semester. Bad, bad Frances! Working full time means that fine arts takes a back seat. Plus, I'm trying to see friends whenever I can. I want to hang out with everyone when their around and I'm not in Brooklyn or bogged down with school. Speaking of school...I miss my ID friends like crazy. To think many wont be back come fall kills me. They're grown ups who want to have kids a job but I need them to stop being late 20 or 30-somethings and hang out with me instead. I went from seeing everyone 8 hours a day, 4 days a week to not at all and I'm missing them. It sounds insane but they're as close to sorority as I'll ever get and we have a bond built on sleepless nights and ruthless critiques. I'm definitely wishing we had conjugal visits.

I wish I could write everything I wanted to write to properly introduce this journal. And properly catch it up with my last LiveJournal. I'd have to write about an entire semester of people and projects which would take hours. I guess can always write about the projects when I them on deviantArt, I suppose. Hey, that's another thing I can do tomorrow! So far we have: start looking for apartments and email finds to Rachel, post newest projects on deviantArt, and start owl/table study. In that order. I should never wonder why people don't read my LJs. I rewrite to-do lists like, 3 times in the course of 12,000 word entries.