The reason I moved out

It was the beginning of 2009, and after 2 1/2 years of being single, I finally decided I wanted to start looking for someone. I was oblivious to the dating world, but that's for another blog. I was in my last semester at Houston Community College, ready to graduate with my Associate of Art's Degree in May.

And I was still living at home. At 24 years old.

My parents are still married and together, but my father has been working out in California since 2008 where he has his own business. My mom works here for minimum wage at a distribution center. I have twin sisters who are 9 years old.

For 1 1/2 years, I went to school on weekends and followed my courses online, all while managing a social life- or at least attempting to. It didn't bother me too much that I was doing classes on Saturdays and Sundays because I wasn't partying it up every weekend. I actually preferred one-day-a-week courses because it was easier for me to study.

But then I became unhappier. While my mom worked the graveyard shift (and still does, and I'll explain how in a bit) I had to stay home and watch my sisters. She would start work at 5pm, and my work schedule was 8am to 4pm. I didn't take a lunch so that I would work 8 hours and leave to make it in just as my mom was leaving for her work around 4:45pm. We hardly saw each other during the week. I would see her on the weekends after my classes were over, but most of the time, we communicated through post-it notes on the kitchen counters, mirrors, and microwave.

I was sad. My mom wasn't around anymore, and I was also unhappy that I had to spend every single weeknight cooped up at home. I couldn't go out. I could only go out on Saturday nights because my Sunday classes started a bit later.

My sisters were also very difficult (they still are, but my mom has to deal with them now.) I didn't like doing errands with them because they would become irritable if I spent too much time in a store. The only time they were manageable was when they were doing something they wanted- like the playground at the mall, but other than that, they were always running around the aisles, screaming and fighting in the stores making a mess.

It was embarassing, and it got to the point where I despised having to make a quick run anywhere with them if I was out of something. They were too young and I couldn't leave them home alone.

I often talked with my friend/coworker Jennifer about my stress in my home life. And even though I complained a lot, I always came to the conclusion that it was balanced out. I didn't pay rent, and my parents had a stay-at-home babysitter. 

But one day,Jennifer finally laid out the cherry on the cake. "You can't keep living for your parents. You're unhappy just by going home. They're the ones who had the children, let them take the responsibility! They're not your kids."

I always tried to defend my family, because it felt like a personal attack when they talked about them, and I always said  "But family is family, and we need to help each other out. They need me just as much as I need them... so I guess that makes it even."

"No, it's not. You need to be able to live your own life. You're 24 years old! You need to be able to do whatever you want. If one day you want to go grab an ice cream, or go watch a movie with a friend- you need to be able to do that, not say 'Oh, I can't. I have to watch my sisters' " she argued.

I just looked at her, trying to take it all in. Then, I started thinking.

It was true. I couldn't make any plans during the week. I was already committed to my sisters.

And I was so unhappy, frustrated, angry and taking it out on my mom and the twins.

Around the same time, I met Sebastian, and I opened up to him about my situation. He didn't seem to mind because we were spending the weekends together after my classes were over. At a certain point, it was enough. But there were some activities that took place during the week, and I couldn't take part. Sebastian was very understanding, and luckily, he loved children, so he actually liked being with my sisters.

We all went out to restaurants and shopping a few times because he knew that if my sisters couldn't go, I couldn't also. It was important for me to find someone who was compatible with my sisters even if I wasn't with the girls. It was almost a necessity that the person I hang out with not be annoyed by their behavior. Plus, it led me to believe that the person was truly interested in hanging out with me and them. Not many people would want kids in the package.

So during the 4 months we were together, I lazily searched for my new apartment. We visited a few complexes together, but never really found one that wowed me. After we broke up, Sebastian assumed I wouldn't move out because we weren't dating. I decided to prove him wrong and show that I was still committed to taking the next step to independence.

My parents weren't extremely supportive of my decision to move out, but they couldn't stop me either. My uncle told me they believed I was moving out with Sebastian. I never considered it. My mother was lost as to how she was going to manage working and caring for my sisters, and while my father said that I should take this next step in my life, I shouldn't rush out of the house since no one was forcing me to go. They both considered it a waste of money deciding to move out because I had a roof and food readily available at home. (About the time I started dating Sebastian, I began paying them $300 to help a little with costs. I only got to pay them for about 4 months, because my mom told me to save the money for when I would be moving out that summer.)

Nonetheless, the day I decided to make the move, I knew I was making a good decision. My relationship with my mom and sisters had begun deteriorating because I was tired of babysitting the girls. I had begun lashing out and was stressed at work because I had to leave at 4pm everyday even when my tasks weren't complete. I came to the conclusion that by leaving the household, I was saving my relationship with my family. I would be happier on my own and able to enjoy spending time with them when I visited.

My grandma arrived from Europe two weeks before I moved out. She's staying until November, while my mother continues to work. Everyone has asked me what my mom will do after my grandmother leaves, and I have no idea. My assumption is that she won't work anymore, but I can't feel guilty anymore. If I feel guilty, then I become unhappy. And when I'm unhappy, I become depressed and lash out. At this point in my life, I have to start taking care of myself first rather than my parents' situation. I wasn't the one to make the decision to come to Texas. I merely tagged along. I keep telling myself that if I'd stayed in California, they would have managed without me just fine, so why do I have to worry they won't make it without me now that things didn't work out?

Maybe it's selfish, I don't know. Jennifer reminded me that I wasn't the one with daughters- they were. It wasn't my responsibility to take care of them as if they were. It was selfish of them to assume that I didn't mind taking care of them.

"How are you on your own?"

A few people were worried and concerned when I announced that I would be moving out. Those people were my parents, my coworkers and my friends. Sebastian was very confident that I would be able to manage and I was somewhat sure that I would be too.

It's been two weeks since I've flown the nest, only to be replaced by two adorable chicks- chickens that is. I love animals and it filled my heart with glee when I found out that my sisters had "found" two chicks one day at the park. I've always wanted chickens, even though I know they are a mess to handle. Plus, there's the added surprise of not knowing which sex you have until the male decides to crow at sunrise. I went by early this week to see them, but I couldn't get too close since I was sick with my cold. (update: 17 days after exposure, I still have minor phlegm.)

I talked to one of my hot vendors yesterday, and he asked me how living alone was going. I couldn't help but smile and say that it was going great. He wondered if I'd been okay since the move, and I couldn't admit that I hadn't spent much time at my new pad alone. Truth is, the reason why it has been going great, and why I haven't broken down yet is because I've been spending every other day in the company of Sebastian. I've traveled to his place to have dinner a few times, and we've gone out to eat as well. I have only "prepared" dinner in my kitchen 3 times in a period of 14 days. It's so much easier to hang out now that I'm not restricted to home. I have something to do every night. 

So I told my hot vendor the only thing I could think of at the time:
"I haven't been spending many nights at my place actually. I end up going home"

At which he laughed. "No it's okay, I can understand the need to be with your family when you're alone. I mean, I did it too. It was hard at first, but eventually you'll get used to it."

I continued trying to polish my answer by saying "But I like having moved out alone and not with someone else. I don't have to worry about ignoring my roommate."

Prior to moving out, I was worried about living alone. Though I had always envisioned to move by myself the first time, I couldn't help but think how nice it'd be to move in as a couple- like my ex was doing at the exact same moment in California.

I thought I'd be miserable also. I honestly thought I'd become depressed by not having someone to hang out with to combat boredom. But it hasn't been the case. Sebastian has been there for me. Though we are not an actual couple, we are still dating one another, though with no intentions that it will lead to something. He intends to keep it strictly "friends only", but with an "emotional attachment involved" might I add. We still talk every single day for hours on end. We actually talk more now than we did when we were a couple. We still make plans for the weekends, and make decisions as a couple. You know, I really have no idea what this all means.

Sebastian gave me the added push and motivation to continue moving on and out of my parents'. Even though we weren't together when I moved out, I didn't want to go back on my word. I needed to go. And it is because of him that I'm doing so much better on my own, and the fact that I'm so much happier and relaxed.

My coworker pulled me aside the other day and asked me how things were going. When I told her they were great, she said "I can tell. This is the first time I've seen you smile. I'm very happy for you."

A scare!

As we were moving things up into my apartment this weekend, a sweet old lady offered to help Sebastian and I move my couch upstairs. It just made things worse. We were both scared that she would hurt herself and fall down the stairs, drop the couch on our heads, or worse- trip us up to fall to our untimely deaths each. She lives in the apartment below me. By the sound of it, she doesn't speak much English, but what we were able to understand was her name- Mrs. Brown.


With all the commotion we caused, my new neighbor across the "hall" came out to see who was making the noise. As soon as I saw her, I stopped dead in my tracks and quickly glanced out of the corner of my eye into Sebastian's direction. She looked just like his Japanese ex.


Damnit! Can't a girl catch a break??

I quickly introduced myself and Sebastian to her. Her name is Daphne and she goes to school close by. She was excited about having new neighbors. Turns out she'd just moved in about a month ago. I quickly excused myself after thanking Mrs. Brown for her help, and went back into my apartment.

"Daphne. Huh..... I haven't heard that name in a while" said Sebastian.

Oh great here it goes. He noticed her too.

"Yeah. It sounds like a prissy name" I shot back.

Don't get any ideas Sebastian!

A while later I recalled how excited she'd seemed to have new neighbors. Sebastian mentioned "Yeah, I think she was happy to have neighbors their own age."

"What do you mean their age? Who are you talking about?" I asked

"Well I saw a guy walking in the background; must be her boyfriend" he answered.

"Man, you've got a good eye. I didn't see anyone back there" I said.

Phew...... she's taken.

A while later, we left to go throw some trash away and saw her coming down the stairs. I flagged her down, but she didn't "see" me. I called out to her louder the second time and asked her if she knew where the dumpsters were.

"Uh I don't know. I just throw my trash in my car and toss it elsewhere" she answered as she continued down the stairs.

"Huh" I said to Sebastian. "Was it just me or did she seem a bit rude?" I asked him.

"Yeaaah. I know huh. Looks like you've got a bipolar asian for a neighbor" he added.

"Yeah, you must know. You married one" I concluded.

Ooooh, pwned

-----Later that day-----

We went to get lunch at Taco Bell before going back to my mom's house to pick up the rest of my boxes. This lunch period revolved around his ex wife and their marriage. He talked about her the entire time, saying how unhappy he'd been, and regretting ever marrying her though he did in fact love her.

Yeah, love blinds you. Completely.




It didn't bother me that he talked about her; I was mainly curious to know what had happened in their relationship, especially since he'd said she'd been very abusive and violent towards him for every little thing. People that are bipolar need help from a therapist- of which she was reluctant to see. Eventually, her unhappiness with him led her to leave him. I felt bad for his misfortune, but I think the only thing he could have done was to smack her around a bit and instill fear in her. Problem was, she didn't take him seriously or respect him at all. Their fights just got worse.


He talked about her so much, that as we were setting up my bathroom back in my apartment, he called me by her name. I didn't quite hear it at first, but when he said "Shit. I called you Jeannette," I just stared at him, and gave him a confused look. It didn't bother me much, and I knew why it had slipped out. "Wow. That's the first time I call you that. Gotta admit I did pretty well. It's because we've been talking about her so much today. Let's not talk about her ever again."

Well, that sounded like a splendid idea, except he mentioned her again the next day.
And the next.

I was soclose to achieving annihilation of the ex-wife.

Oh well, it's back to the drawing board.

It. Is. Perfect.

My first apartment.

I can't even begin to describe how grateful and lucky I feel to have landed such a great apartment. My biggest fear was that I would land a crappy, roach infested, ghetto neighborhood first apartment on my way out the nest because of my budget. Instead, I got what has become Sebastian's envy. His apartment- just way better.

I'm going to have to brag because for the first time ever in almost...... 3 years, I am actually proud and happy about my well being. I seriously need a boost to my self esteem.

So welcome to my apartment:

As you walk in you will be amazed at the finesse of the vaulted ceilings that scream for the potential of owning a "projector." At least, that was Sebastian's idea. Yeah, I don't want to spend $800 on something I don't need.



The kitchen is white. Pristine. New. I even got so lucky as to get a window! The model they showed me didn't even have that! I felt extremely dumb when I noticed something weird on the kitchen stove. The burners were sticking out, and they seemed to be missing something. Sebastian took the liberty of connecting them and telling me I needed drip pans. Yeah, that's a good thing he mentioned it, else, I would have just turned them on and melted the stove



I have a dining room that I'm most likely never going to see. I can't exactly put a dining table unless I push it against a wall since the apartment is small (513 sqft). I have since decided not to clutter my new place and forego the dinner table. I'll have to figure out if I want to eat like an Arab (on the ground) or like a Japanese (on a low table). I might go American and eat with a dinner tray, plopped on the couch in front of the TV. See how convenient it is?


I have a patio with a storage closet where I've been storing all my boxes for when I have to move again. See- I'm already thinking of the future.

My bedroom has two gigantic mirrors. Oh fuck yah. I have so much storage space in there compared to the 6ft closet I had back at home. Everything was cramped in there, and some of my clothes never saw the light of day. Literally. Coming soon: Ikea dresser on the left hand side. The long curtain on the wall is actually for a small window I have there. All the apartments have super bright lights right outside our doors- which Sebastian and I found out after the first night.

And my bathroom, which I decided to decorate in white and yellow to help with my mood. Though my favorite color is purple/plum, I needed something bright to help me feel happier in the mornings. The curtain, towels and bath mat, you can't see, I bought at Ikea.


Moving in couldn't be complete with the celebratory pizza. I don't know why, but there's something about pizza and moving that go hand in hand. That pizza was so delicious. I've never had any better.


I managed to make my first black mark on the main wall within the first 3 minutes of having my couch in the living room. Actually, it happened as Sebastian left me alone as he went downstairs to unload the truck. When he came back he exclaimed "Why couldn't you wait for me to help you move it??" "I was just too excited and wanted to do it before you got back!" I responded.

I had to go do some grocery shopping late last night because I needed to stock up on survival gear. I bought milk, bread and skillet meals, along with other stuff like frozen fruit, some canned goods (I have a tiny pantry) and top ramen- the emergency food.

Sebastian helped me out tremendously this weekend, and also took good care of me. I started developing cold symptons on Saturday night. My throat began hurting and my nose has been running non-stop since Sunday morning. I ended up catching Sebastian's flu from when I went to see him on Wednesday- all too aware that he was sick. There's no one to blame but me for that one. He made me tea a couple of times and let me rest and not overexert myself, though he too was still a little sick. He managed to move most of the large furniture on his own (coffee table, mattress, box spring, and dresser.) The couch we had to move together.

I need to go to bed. I'm not completely weirded out by sleeping alone yet, I'm ok for the time being. I'm really glad my mom didn't chime in when my uncle asked me during our bbq on Sunday if I'd been OK sleeping alone in my new place. I would have been mortified if she'd said that Sebastian had kept me company in front of my grandma.

Oh yeah...
and I have free cable too.
That rocks.

Don't procrastinate when it comes to housing

I thought I had enough time. I always play this game. It makes me more stressful and forces me to rush through things.

Earlier this week I went to State Farm to get a quote on renter's insurance because Sebastian had recommended me to them. I had managed to get a quote from Progressive, my auto insurance provider, but they had quoted a ridiculous high rate enough to rape you. About $38 a month, or almost $500 for a yearly premium.

As soon as I walked in I was greeted by the most enthusiastic handshake. Oh boy... I'm gonna get screwed here too. I told the agent I was here to obtain a quote for renter's insurance, and that I was unfamiliar with the process. She asked me what my total worth in personal property was and I told her $7,000.

She laughed.

In my face practically.

"Well the minimum we offer is $10,000" she responded. "Well then can I get a quote for that?" I asked her.

"Oh but are you sure you don't want to go for at least $20,000? I mean, think about how much it would cost to replace your clothes, your furniture. And we're not talking about items that are on sale. We're talking full cost."

I don't have that much stuff. Just get me the $10,000 quote.

I told her I needed $25,000 renter's liability according to my apartment's requirements.

The lowest they offered was $100,000.

Ok, I don't care.

I asked her to explain to me the definition of this coverage, because I still didn't quite understand it. Basically, liability insurance covers the apartment unit for any fuck-ups that I cause, be it fire, flooding, and can also cover vandalism and invasion. However, I wasn't quite sure if it covered damages caused by hurricane winds. I mean- that's not my fault right? Shouldn't the complex cover for that?

She worked up the quote and offered $12.50 a month, which is what Sebastian had advised me it would cost. I asked her if I could pay it monthly, or if it was annually and she laughed again. "It's $150!" At this point, I was pissed. It was rude of her to laugh at a question I had. For the rest of the meeting, I was cold towards her. The only reason why I signed up that day was because the leasing agent told me I needed to have coverage set up at least 5 days before move in day. I still put my move in day as my start day for my coverage. I called the leasing agent and asked if I needed to show them my certificate, and she said I could just bring it in the day of move in with my check.

The following day, I started researching electric providers online so I could get my service started. I asked BEG, Sebastian and my colleagues. I was referred to Gexa and Amigo Energy. After understanding their rates, I decided to start with Amigo Energy.



I opted for a 6 month fixed rate of 11.1¢ for the first 500kwh in the Centerpoint Area (there are a lot of different rates for different areas, and I know that my apartment is in the Centerpoint district). I don't remember what it was for 501-1000kwh. Their cancellation fee was $100, but I don't plan to do that during the service.

And here's the part where I screwed up. I went to apply for their service, but the soonest they could start was 6 days away; it was Wednesday, and the following Monday is Labor Day. I called their customer service line and I asked them if they could turn it on on Friday (which was 2 days away) and the agent told me they were booked until Tuesday. They didn't connect service on weekends or holidays.

Shit.

Won't the apartment charge me for those days I don't have service?

I asked Sebastian and he said they would most likely charge at double the price, which is what had happened to him when he had moved into his apartment. Or the apartment would charge a flat rate- I don't know. I can't remember.

So the big day is coming. I'm excited, and nervous that not all my papers will be in order.

I went through my renter's insurance paperwork, and just noticed that the name of my complex is not listed as an interested party on the certificate.

Well, shit. Another lesson learned I guess.

Shopping for my first apartment!

I managed to get some shopping done this weekend at Ikea, Target and Ross- the latter which I decided not to buy from until Senior day discount (a good 10% off).

I bought a fiery red microwave from Target for $59:A red Oster 12 speed blender on sale for $29.99, also at Target

Chefmate 8pc cookware set marked down from $31.29 to a whopping $24.99:

And a small Chefmate 2-slice toaster for a bargain price of $6.33:

I needed a kitchen trash can ($10.49) with a swing top and a hamper ($6.99) so I bought the following two items:

I also bought some kitchen utensils, but opted to buy them separately rather than in the 10pc-$10 pack because I felt I could get more stuff my way. Plus, there's something called the 99 cent/$1 store where I can get a lot more for my buck. I just haven't been, so I really don't know what's in store for me- literally.


My grandma was with me at the time, and since I still wanted to go to Ikea to get my dining table, I decided to take her home and ask Sebastian to come with me instead. Once there, we had dinner and went through the entire store once again to buy some seat cushions for my poor beaten up hand me down sofa bed, and some..... linens for my bathroom. I've decided to do it in yellow and white, so I had to buy the shower curtain ($14.99,) the bath mat ($12.99) and one yellow towel ($3.49) and small white towel ($1.49). They were really cheap material- but they're only for decorative purposes. As if I'm going to get so many visitors. I'll most likely turn them away because my place is so small.
Sebastian even managed to throw an "ex" commentary in there about how the ex wife loved to spend money and always had to buy the most expensive item in the selection.

Please. Keep. It. To. Yourself.

Read the fine print

I used quite a few online apartment searching tools as I continued on my hunt. I knew from the past that mynewplace.com offered $100 gift cards for finding an apartment with them.

So does rent.com.
And that's where I got screwed.

You see, mynewplace.com doesn't offer the gift card for every property, but does so for a majority of communities.

$100 no more.

When I filled out my application at the leasing office, I put that I found their property on mynewplace.com, with the hopes of filling out their offer once I signed the lease. I was certain I'd get it. When I went back online later that day, I went to check their terms and conditions, but couldn't find their "Claim your gift card here" link anywhere. I searched some more and concluded that the site did not offer it for my property. I went on to Rent.com's website and saw it staring right back at me. The $100 gift card. It was an oversight on my end.





I had just lost my new dining room set.......
my frosted table and 4 chairs from Ikea.......

I'm not a princess....

....Am I?

My parents (mainly my mother) babied me throughout my entire 24 years. As a result, I've taken her for granted and feel despicable from it. I've finally come to realize that it is time for me to get out before it's too late.

My living arangements have been spectacular all my life. I've lived in apartments, condos, houses, and 3 years ago, I came face to face with the burbs.

I relocated from California to Texas with my family. I basically tagged along, even after my father offered to let me stay in California with a boyfriend I had at the time. I said "Screw it. Family is family, and we're sticking together."

Well, I pretty much screwed myself because as soon as I moved out of California, my boyfriend of 4 years and I broke up. And it was for good this time.

I had a shot at "independence" and I didn't take it. I stayed with Mom and Dad for way too long. My dad was convinced that I'd stay with them until I was 30. My mom didn't seem to mind, and neither did I. It was a living arrangement that was perfect; that is until my dad moved out. He relocated to California because he wasn't happy in Texas anymore. He opened his business and started living on his own. It was just my mom and I for the time being. Oh wait- did I forget to mention I had twin sisters who were 15 years younger than me?

Yes. That's the only negative aspect of it. You're 22 and they're 7.

My parents were still together, but not living under the same roof; they weren't separated either. My dad would come to visit us at every holiday, and would stay the weekend.
My mom started working nights, and I had to be home to take care of my sisters. Monday through Friday. From 5pm on. Sometimes even on Sundays.

At the time, it was... ok. I was single and wasn't dating. I didn't have many other interests, therefore school on the weekends took up most of my morning time. It was..... just fine. I dealt with it.

But then the itch for dating grew, and I couldn't just limit my time to Saturday nights. I wanted more. So my mom and I worked it out. I could get every other sunday, and monday nights as well. But that was it.

And then the resentment escalated. I needed to be out more often. My mom and I got into disagreements and heaterd arguments. I stormed into other rooms and slammed doors. I cried, I screamed, and shouted. I acted like a 15-year-old. And then I said what I really felt "I need to move out. I'm moving out!"

That was almost 6 months ago. After a few setbacks, changes of hearts and reconcialations, I finally set a date. September 1, 2009.

And I still haven't found a place.

HOUSTON, we have a problem...

....and her name is RenRexx.
No. I'm not perfect, and I'm not going to pretend that I am either.
First blogs are always the most difficult to start. You tend to begin with optimism, but soon have a fallout as you did with your old high school friends, and forget the login information to your account so that you can't even fix or delete your work.

Well, what's the point of this then? I recently found myself at the intersection of a new ......"adventure" per se.

I want to share my experiences, or what will come of such incidents.
And what's going to happen?
I'm MOVING OUT of my parents's nest.
At 24.
And I don't even know how to cook.....
or do my own laundry.