Jefferson Street--Miss Independent Part 2

I actually have a lot of memories of my first apartment and the year I spent there. I did a lot in one year. I had a group of kids from another school that I hung out with from church. Apparently Evangel kids don't go to church! (or at least not Oak Grove Assembly.) We did a lot of stuff together on the weekends when I wasn't working, none of us had family in town.

By the time I met dash, I had one year of independence (oh yeah, did I mention that my car was brought to me and that it broke down, so my dad brought me his Izzuzu pup and I drove it until I got mom's Cutlass back for a while and then eventually dash bought a car, (but that was after I had moved into the dorms)and that's what we drove. I was so independent, that mom would come visit and buy me groceries, and if she didn't I didn't eat much.

I thought at the time I was doing it all. How little I knew. I mean, sure I paid for my apartment and gas and all my student loans were in my name and my name alone (my parents did not support me attending Evangel--they wanted me to move back home.) I guess what I am saying is Jefferson street was not the learning experience at the time that it should have been. I was too stupid to see reality.

I look at it now and know that I've got a hard road ahead of me. Out of 4 kids, my parents only had 1 that played it safe. She only lived in the dorm and came home on the weekends. The other 3 all had "Jefferson street" at some point in their lives. Sure the other 2 did it within an hour of mom and dad so they still were able to help out more. I don't know how much of the "independent" gene my kids got. I think before they get out on their own, I'll have to really make sure that they see and know about Jefferson Street and the mice infested apartment (that was pretty gross, during the winter there was a nest in the apartment...freaked me out...I was introduced to DeCon for the first time in my life and boy did I use it.) Did I mention my neighbors that I had. There were 3 or 4 different people who lived below me that year. They all seemed to really like smoking weed. I'd smell it and remembered my sister saying something about it, I said, yeah--it doesn't smell like nicotine and she said, "it's not!"

Jefferson street, the further away I am from it the more in focus those days become. I was living on an independent high that kept me from seeing it then. No one ever tells you that independence isn't all it's cracked up to be. I was lonely. I called everyone collect because I couldn't afford long distance. I only had enough money after rent and gas to buy cheese and crackers and occasionally I'd make tuna casserole with macaroni and cheese. Those were supposed to be the days. The all powerful, ain't life grand days!? I have to say that as much bliss as it was to live in ignorance, I am happy to realize that being independent is a state of mind, not a state of being and you can have your independence when you need it, but sometimes it's good to have people you can depend on too. Just something I've learned for myself looking back on Jefferson Street.