A New Life

Sept. 21, 2009

This blog for my sake is called Rich Girl, Poor Girl. I have never been rich yet I am not homeless. I’m just a 23 year old sophomore (the age of an alumni) in college and I find myself in an interesting situation as I balance out the meaning life, school, living on my own and poverty. I figured it would be something worth writing about.

Poverty. I find something interesting in this word: When I think of the word poverty, I think of unhappy people who work a million (or no) jobs to make possibly half the amount that some with full-time jobs make in order to obtain a somewhat comfortable life. As I have gathered the stories of those I’ve met in my countless jobs over the past eight years I’ve realized, poverty (at least in this part of the US) is just that. The sucky thing is, it seems in this day and age, if you don’t have at least a bachelor degree or at least know somebody or have some awesome money-making talent, hard work truly gets you nowhere and you’ll probably never get out of poverty. Sorry.

I have none of these. I’ve learned to except that I will probably be poor for the rest of my life. You might think of this as some pessimistic defeatist attitude but it is quite the contrary. I’m quite happy with this point in my life. Go figure.

I suppose I shall tell you where I am in my life so we are on the same page. I am 23. I take two classes at a community college (you figure it out). I am a hostess at a certain restaurant where I am paid only in tips…I told you I was a hostess right? I live in a certain house on a certain street in Montclair. My apartment is a very unique one on the top floor of a duplex. I share the place with two other girls: a girl who is rarely ever there, but when she is, she wishes she was in New York (Jersey rules, get over it) and the other whose boyfriend practically lives here (I love the look of shirtless, scrawny white men in the morning). This certain room in this certain apartment is $350 a month, all utilities included. What a deal right? How can one get such a deal in Montclair of all places? I’ll tell you how. Get a place with no kitchen. Yes, I said it: no kitchen. There is a room with pipes for a sink and oven and all of that good stuff but there is no sink or oven or counter. Just a mini-fridge and a microwave on a table, some ripped out floor (the rest of the floor is slanted) and an old china cabinet that will probably disintegrate the moment you breath on it the wrong way. My room you ask? It’s a lovely room with lots of space (in my opinion), new windows and a random crooked temporary wall that doesn’t really go up to the ceiling. Is this place legal? Probably not. But to me it is home sweet home. I even have my own nosey neighbor who asks me questions like: “Where are you going? Why are you going to your friend’s house? Are you going to get drunk?” Don’t forget my “super” with the plug-in electric burner (pretty sure those aren’t legal too). The occasional smell of a certain illegal plant and cigarettes along with loud music at around eleven in the morning is always nice too.

SO!! I digress. This is my place. I’m excited to see what fun new things come from living here (including expected police raids). Don’t’ worry. I’ve made a mental note of all windows I can safely jump out of and we have a fire extinguisher in the non-kitchen, kitchen. I suppose, overall, this blog will be about a girl in a strangely interesting situation while observing people and learning things about herself and the world.