Life of the Party

I will not feel guilty. I will not feel guilty. I will not feel guilty. I WILL NOT feeeeelll guilty. Feel guilty I will not young padawan. You know what I'm not doing? Feelin' guilty. I am guilt-free baby!...

Oh, Hello there Internet world. I am currently trying to shake a bit of the guilts I've been having lately. No, I didn't do anything illegal. I'm just a moron.

You see the other day I decided "Hey, I'm gonna have a Pizza Party as an excuse to get some people over to my house sitting house so I won't be bored." Only AFTER I plan the thing that I realize I may not have the cash for it. It was while I was having a lovely worry fit my father and I have this conversation:

Dad: C, you're not broke, you just got money this morning for graduating.
C: But Father, wasn't that money given to me by my loving and generous family to support my college education.
Dad: C, my graduation money was spent on a trip to Florida. And if you don't wanna spend the money, then cancel the party.
C: *Gasp* But Father, I cannot do that. For I have already made it an event on facebook and some of my guests have already posted themselves as "attending." I cannot disappoint them.
Dad: *Sigh* Whatever...

That got me thinking about how very unlike the typical teenager I really am. Most of my peers wouldn't bat an eyelash at blowing a chunk of their college fund on something stupid like video games, or new clothes. I even consider it and I start panicking about a future managing a McDonald's for the rest of my adult life and my family being forever disappointed at me for wasting my future by mis-using their gifts. If you cannot tell by now, I have a wee bit of a stress problem.

So I figured, since my friends haven't been disowned and I believe my family would support the idea of me taking a chill pill. I am going to use a small portion of my money to pay for a pizza party with friends. And the rest is probably all going to text books...stupid text books.

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On a slightly related note, somebody must think I'm fun to be around, because they decided to share my fun with the entire town. Since I am so much fun, someone with access to my phone number decided to scrawl it somewhere on a park bench with "For a good time call" written next to it. I never thought people actually called those numbers, but some do, and trust me they do not provide the most intellectually stimulating conversation.

I am just baffled as to why someone would write my number on a park bench. I don't imagine any of my friends doing it, because they are sober most of the time. Also, on the list of people who don't like me, I don't see why any of them would take the time to do such a random thing. Oh well, I guess I'll never know how it got there. It may forever be a mystery.

I Live Like a Rich Waif

I feel really sorry for anyone who want's to send me anything via snail mail these days. I think the best way to describe my living situation is "between residences." Long story short, moving out can get a little...complicated.

Here's the long story anyway. For those of you who don't know, I am staying in my latest home town to attend the local university. My parents, due to spousal reasons, have each relocated different cities within. Leaving me...here...in normal college town...by myself.

I know what your thinking, "Why on Earth would your horrible parents leave a poor, innocent, naive, fresh outta high school girl on her own so mercilessly?" Simple, because they're not horrible parents. My mother and father had to let me stay here cause I don't wanna quit my job. Hence, I have been living in my mother's empty house for the past few weeks to keep my lovely fast food employment intact. Besides, I like the fact that my parents trust me enough to leave me alone in town. And I really enjoy the fact that their financial generosity can span any number of miles.

I've even aquired a better place to stay for the next month. Not that my mom's old house was bad. But a friend of my dad's has asked me to house sit in her lovely, and quite beautifully air-conditioned, suburban home. It is by far one of the nicest places I've lived, even if it is only for a month.

So I can still see my parents while being moderately on my own, and I have a sweet house for a chunck of the summer. Perfect, no? Well there is one small problem. Food.

The worst thing about not living with your parents is them not buying you any groceries! I am by no means going hungry, but I am living off the generosity of others. I am eating the left behind groceries of the lady I am house-sitting for and my parents. I even have to vacate my housesitting residence to make room for painters for the next few days. So, since I have relocated to Dad's old apartment, I only have a random food stuffs and Dad's old nutri-system food. My latest meal, penutbutter and jelly on a hotdog bun. Delicious, yes, a hot and balanced meal, no.

Well, I was told that collge student's have odd (and very cheap) diets. I should have listned better. So I guess I'll be eating a lot more carbs till I move to the dorms, but for now I am left with what I can put together in to a meal and my dreams of Nana's home cooking.