Fair and More Bitching.

We went with Jay & Scott to the Broad Ripple Art Fair yesterday. What’s funny is that we spent almost $30 and didn’t get anything. Tickets were $10 each, $8 in advance, and coffee prices were jacked up to four bucks a drink, despite the fact that we just got iced espresso with water and vanilla syrup. Charlie had some meaty sandwich and we got a $4 lemon shake-up. I guess you pay more for the cup than the lemons and sugar, considering four bucks could have bought enough stuff to make dozens of the drinks at home. Fair prices are ridiculous, whether it’s the State Fair or Talbott Street or Penrod. But I always go, try to support stuff however I can.

We got up really early yesterday but didn’t make it to the fair until after noon. We walked there, walked all over the grounds, and walked home. It was a perfect day. I was proud of myself for doing that much without a car. It’s really rare that you can spend hours just walking in Indy without, at some point, needing to get into your car to get to something else. The traffic was unbelievable so Jay and Scott just parked at our place and we all strolled the mile or so there. It honestly wasn’t the bad or that far. Probably for some people, it’s nothing. I joked that I used to walk a mile to school – and back – every day when I was in high school, but it’s true. Once I started to drive I measured it and it was, in fact, a little over a mile from my house one way. I hate taking the bus so much that I would just walk every day, leaving about 30-45 minutes early so I could avoid other students as much as possible.

I wasn’t all that impressed with a lot of the exhibits. Some of the stuff was cute, but a little too “precious” for me. Like roosters and plates that have faux-vintage wine bottles painted on them, or “wearable art” – you know, the kind of inoffensive “arts and crafts” people in Indiana like. There was nothing I saw that struck me as exceptional or really unique. That’s the thing that sucks sometimes about living here; you don’t get shocked or surprised or impressed all that much by the art at the three or so big fairs we have each summer. It’s pretty ho-hum. Not to say that some of the ceramicists and photographers weren’t talented.

Speaking of walking and stuff . . . I’ve been exercising at home a lot in the early afternoon and evening lately. Basically, just some yoga and stretching, using little 10 pound weights, and sit-ups and crunches. I’m trying to make myself get into the habit of doing more while I’m at home. I have two months left before I absolutely have to make myself quit smoking. I’m hoping that getting in a little better shape will pave the way to more intensive exercise and keep me busy when the cravings hit. The last thing I want to do is put on more weight because I have an oral fixation.

The new job starts tomorrow. Well, technically, it’s the training for two days. While I’m not thrilled about the hours (as mentioned before 9am-7pm Monday, 7am-4:30pm Tuesday), I am excited to do something, especially considering the fact that I’ve been unemployed now for two weeks.However, it couldn’t have started at a worse time – exactly one week before we have to move. I’ve done my fair share of packing every little thing I can get my hands on, but it feels as though there’s still a million other little things left that need to be thrown in a box. We probably need more boxes, too.
Kate actually asked me if I thought she needed to paint her room. She chose two different shades of bright green and bright yellow when we moved in a year ago. I told her of course she should paint over it – it’s in the lease and she was standing right next to me when the landlord told us he expected us to paint.Kate is the sort of person who could make a profession out of passive-aggressive statements. She says one thing and feels, thinks, or does something completely different. Don’t get me wrong, I could be accused of behaving this way at points, especially now, but we’re not talking about me. And I just don’t want to rock the boat.
Point being that I finally put two more things together into an understanding of what’s going on: when she started that fight with Charlie a few weeks ago she made a little Freudian slip, saying she has “this opportunity” that will somehow pass if she doesn’t move back in with her parents. Charlie asked what she meant by using the word “opportunity,” but she tried to cover it up by saying she didn’t mean to say that.

Oh, but look here! She’s moving back in with her parents. Oh, and because of that she gets to go back to school full time in the fall! No “opportunity” was presented other than this: she chose to move back in with her parents because she probably started to think about the $400 per month she could blow on other crap if she wasn’t paying rent.
But wait! There’s more! Look at all the great stuff she’s been missing out on while having to live in this hell-hole and possibly be an independent adult:
She doesn’t even have to work if she moves in there! She can spend as much time with her new boyfriend as she wants, driving to his place and spending the night because she won’t have to have a “real job.” She can live off more student loans! Hell, she’s already so far in debt that it almost doesn’t make a difference to slap on another 10, 12, or 15 grand! And it’s not like she pays any attention to the collection letters, phone calls, and notices that she’s being sued by companies to which she owes just a measly couple hundred bucks.

Don’t you see? None of that will matter anymore! She’s so lucky! We’ve been so blind to not have noticed how we’re holding her back. Look at us, trying to treat her like she’s 27 years old! Why, she’s only been 27 now for a couple of months. Who did we think we were, anyway?

God, I feel like such a monster, forcing her to stay here, never asking her to clean, never expecting her to clean her room, cleaning up after her, finishing her laundry when she leaves it in the washer or dryer, doing her dishes, mopping, sweeping, and dusting multiple times a week . . . What kind of person am I to do all of this to her? I should be ashamed of myself for not realizing that all this time she should never have had to pay rent. I mean, she never paid any utilities on time and then complained about how cold it got in her room, but that’s really my fault. Charlie probably should have gotten a third job just to give money to Kate so she wouldn’t have to worry about stuff.

If she moves back in with her parents she won’t have to pay bills, she’ll just stow her shit at her parents and start acting like a 19 year-old again. Yay for Kate! The “opportunity” not to be missed is that she can disconnect her phone and leave no forwarding number, so bill collectors won’t be able to find her. The “opportunity” is to try and act like her brother, skipping out on financial responsibilities, and hope that no one will catch up with her.

In her own words – “paying rent is too hard.”


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