Happy and Stressed

A huge milestone has officially been reached in my life as of yesterday: I have bought my first brand spanking new car! Like, new car smell and automatic windows and remote start and all.

It is both thrilling and terrifying. While I don’t know firsthand what it’s like to have kids, I imagine it’s a lot like being a car owner. You’re constantly worried about their safety, making sure to steer them carefully and being extra cautious about others in the near vicinity. I checked on it constantly while I was at work today to make sure no one was parked too close or threatened the safety of it.

I drove extra cautiously to make sure I didn’t get in an accident or pulled over (partly because I left my proof of insurance and purchase at home) and exited carefully as well to make sure the door didn’t hit anything. Seriously, owning your own brand new car is a lot of stress.

Anyway, so we (the family) went out to dinner tonight because I had $125 in giftcards to Outback Steakhouse, to celebrate getting this car. FOR WHATEVER REASON, my dad decided that we should take my old ghetto car, which is now replacing his even ghettoer car, and I still cannot fathom WHY. That car is too small to fit us all in there comfortably and we could have taken my mom’s which is the roomiest  and everyone would have sat comfortably with enough leg room.

So I ordered 2 Sangrias and got drunk to cheer myself up a bit because I was genuinely angry. However, at the end of the night, everyone was rushing me to get up and go home – which is another thing I don’t understand because what the fuck are we going to do at home? – so I went back to being pissed off and I yelled at everyone about the whole car thing. First time being angry drunk.

I’m just really stressed out right now with student loans, car payments, my various bills, things that need to be bought for the house that no one else is going to pick up the bill on, both jobs and trying to find a better paying job or a third job. And on top of it all, familial interactions are stressful as fuck. My mom’s mom got a computer and the internet and we’ve been talking on Google hangouts, however sometimes I don’t answer because I don’t have anything to say and she gets upset.


I need to get away from here.

On the bright side though, check out the dashboard on my baby. It’s pretty baller.


Life Sucks and I Don’t Get Paid Enough

Last week, I did some calculations about the amount of money I earn and how it gets used yearly to see what I have left over to use toward new car payments.

Surprise surprise, there are no new cars (aside from the Chevy Spark, really) that I could get with my measly income. Even then, I would still be on such a tight budget, that I wouldn’t be able to buy anything except the absolute bare necessities. That would mean no going out to eat – EVER. No buying new clothes that I might need. Nothing. Zero. Not one penny would be able to be sacrificed for anything. I would be working strictly to pay student loans and car payments.

Not only is this prospect extremely depressing for me, but when I look at it more broadly, I have to stop and wonder how other people manage to put food on their tables making less money than I do. I should however mention that I would make double the amount I do now if I were full time – I am only part time, which is part of why I earn under $10,000. INCLUDING COMMISSION AND MY SECOND JOB!

I’m increasingly becoming more and more disgruntled with the state of the job market, the level with which we cling to money as a means of evaluating a persons worth. As The Verve’s Bittersweet Symphony goes:

Trying to make ends meet
You’re a slave to money
And then you die

It’s fucking disgusting, actually. It’s fucking disgusting that the richest 1% of Americans own 40% of this country’s wealth. It’s fucking disgusting that I can’t get a decent job with a piece of paper that put me over $60,000 in debt. It’s fucking disgusting that the rich keep getting richer and the poor keep getting poorer. Where is the middle class?

I’ll tell you what they did when they consolidated the American car companies a few years ago and terminated several brands: they cut out the “cheap” affordable brands. They said FUCK YOU! If you don’t have enough money to buy a Buick, too fucking bad.

However, I came across this article that I think it’s a good reminder to remain positive in the face of trying times. It’s called The 14 Habits of Highly Miserable People and it definitely sheds light on the negative things we do to sabotage ourselves.

I’ve been desperately trying to keep a positive outlook on my life in all aspects, but I’ve been very annoyed, sad, angry, and overall negative lately and I REALLY DON’T LIKE IT. I don’t know what these emotions do to me or how they make me act toward other people and I feel like a horrible person. I feel like there’s poison running through my veins and I know that I’m not this kind of soul naturally. I do not enjoy experiencing seething feelings.

Furthermore, and only because my mom came in my room annoyed just now am I reminded of this, but my relationship with her lately has been very aggravating. Like rubbing two abrasive rocks together. She says and does shit that pisses me off and I’m just like oh my god, dear lord save me. Like it’s just another reason why I need a job that pays livable wages and allows me to MOVE THE FUCK OUT OF HERE. I’m starting to go crazy. I’m starting to hermit myself my room or go out shopping just to be out of the house and away from her.


I’m Not Allowed to Enjoy My Fucking Life

Day 23: Scarf

Today was my first real day of “relaxing” so I basically did nothing. And by nothing I mean I sat around watching shit on Netflix for hours, writing, ALMOST started coloring in my new coloring books, and enjoyed being by myself for most of the day.

Of course, then my mom came home and bitched that I didn’t do anything and I was like are you fucking kidding me? You expect me to fucking do shit when I have no obligations to do anything? Fuuuuuck that. I WILL act like a guest in this house. I am on BREAK, bitch. I seriously don’t give a fuck!

Seriously though, I’m beginning to understand why people don’t like the holidays because it means family time. Like, I love my family. But holy shit, everyone’s home right now and all I want to fucking do is beat the shit out of them individually. Like, I just want to sit here and think and breathe by myself. Can you get the fuck out of my space? Literally how I feel right now. I can’t wait to be able to afford to live by myself. I’m going to relish in the solidarity and not having anyone badger me about anything or yell at me for not washing some stupid dishes or whatever other bullshit.

Anyway, I don’t have a picture of a scarf. But I do have a picture of a few of my friends at my End of the World Christmas Crafting Extravaganza Party this year!



I love these people. It’s always nice to see friends after not seeing them for a year.

I Love My Family

Day 13: Family

Okay so, I’m currently working on sewing 3 dresses together as much as I can before tomorrow at 5 PM and I think I might pull an all-nighter. Or maybe like a “I should definitely be in bed right now cause I’m only gonna get like x hours of sleep” kinda night. Depends on how far I get by midnight. But anyway, I’ve currently lost my focus, so I thought instead of completely wasting time, I should update here so I don’t forget by the time midnight rolls around.

My family was more “complete” and filled out 2 years ago for Christmas, so tonight I’ll share a picture from the dinner we had at our house. My grandma was here from Romania, as well as my aunt-in-law and uncle, and his mom/my grandma’s sister, my great aunt. The picture I’m sharing is one of my favorites because I’m looking at my dad all enraged about the camera not flashing, my uncle’s pulling my aunt-in-law’s face, my mom’s got her eyes closed, my brother’s bored, my great-aunt looks a little pissed, and my grandma’s in la-la land.

I’m also like 33 pounds heavier here.

Dear Tati

Dear Tati,

I don’t even know where to start. I suppose starting off with the positives works. In which case: I love you. I love you with all my heart and while I can imagine a world without you, I prefer to cherish the time we have together. I love hearing your stories about being in the Army – even though no one wants to imagine eating worm-infested oatmeal, and I’m sorry you had to go through that. I love hearing stories about your childhood and teen years, and I love listening to you bitch at people while driving. These are fond memories.

Most of all, I want you to know that I love and appreciate you as a person very much, and believe it or not, I do actually understand and appreciate every single goddamn thing you do for us. I know you think that I don’t understand that you work hard for us to be able to have the things we do, but trust me, I’m more empathetic than you can imagine. 

You think I don’t know how hard it was to move us to America? You think I don’t know how hard you worked for the shittiest pay for 13 years to keep a roof over our head? Don’t you dare tell me I don’t fucking know. Don’t you dare.

Listen, I love you more than the goddamn salt in my food, as the old Romanian folk tale goes. I love you so much that I’m actually crying writing this. But you continue to say hurtful things to me. You continue to get angry about things you ought not to be angry about. I’ve always hated having to grow up making mistakes and knowing that I’ll have to face your anger somewhere along the line. I am not perfect – please stop expecting me to be. I do not go around purposely messing shit up to make your life miserable, so stop acting like I do.

Tonight when Andrei took a swim with his phone and it ended up dying and I asked you if that means we’re getting new phones, you got really pissed at me. You think I don’t understand that new phones for all of us is about $1000? You shouldn’t have yelled at me and told me to buy my phone with my own money because I’m pretty fucking sure that I’ve told you before and I told you again that I’ve been planning on buying my own goddamn phone. I understand you were frustrated. But seeing as we’re up for new phones anyway, the better attitude would’ve been “whatever“. Anger doesn’t solve fucking shit, home boy. It only creates more anger. How is that helping? It’s not.

If I could have some wishes granted, one of them would have to be that you be less of an angry person. I hate that one must always make sure you’re in a good mood to tell you anything. I hate that when I henna myself you get pissed off – it makes me want to get the real tattoos I have planned sooner, in spite. I hate that you always have some comment about when I dye my hair – IT’S MY FUCKING HAIR. I DON’T CARE IF I LOOK LIKE A FOX.

I just hate that you are not encouraging to me. I hate that you never came to any of my choir concerts or any of my color guard performances or my art shows or my talent show performances. I hate that you don’t outwardly show that you support me. I think that’s why I always want to please people – because I always feel the need to please you and you never quite seem appropriately pleased with anything I do. Does that mean I have daddy issues? 

But despite it all, I still love you. I kinda have to, don’t I? But there’s always something I do wrong and you get angry at me for. God fucking forbid you do something wrong and I get mad at you. It’s the end of the fucking world, isn’t it? Please stop that. It hurts. I hate hypocrisy.

And please stop “joking” with me in the way you do. I don’t know how many times we have to tell you this but yours and Buni’s “jokes” aren’t funny, they’re mean. They don’t make me laugh, they piss me off and hurt my feelings. They’re not jokes, they’re jabs. Seriously, stop.

Your daughter.