My mom has been bitching at me for 4 weeks to clean my room, so I just spent 2 and a half hours cleaning out my room - moving all the clothes and shit that I didn't want anymore into my sister's or the play room - and I was really proud of myself. Almost everything is gone. I had so little clothes left that I didn't even have any use for the dresser that was in there, so I moved it *by myself* into the playroom. That was a fucking heavy dresser. I took down the beads on my door and moved my bed. All the clothes I now consider myself to own can fit in the closet with plenty of room to spare. There's next to nothing under my bed. I worked for a long time and worked really hard, and, yeah, there's still a little bit of work to be done with stuff like trash [on which I did a pretty good number], but for the most part, it's completely gone. Everything is piled into my sister's room, and the dresser's in the playroom, and the stuff that I could take to Buffalo Exchange or Twice as Nice or Goodwill is on the top step. I totally purged, and I felt wonderful. So I come downstairs all sweat and girl power, and tell my mom how hard I've been working [apparently she didn't notice the 2 hours of blasted music and the occassional loud thumping noise], and that most of my clothes were out of my way, and she wasn't nearly as pleased as I thought she would be. She got all passive-aggressive in my face red with my hard work and said, "Oh. Really. Why did you throw out your clothes?"

"I didn't throw out my clothes, mom, I just moved them out of my way."

"[sigh]. Oh. Well, you know, cool, I guess."

What I wanted to say was, "Are you kidding, you fucking bitch? Do you not realise how hard I've worked for the past couple of hours? I'm becoming enlightened, and all you can do is make some snide comment?"

What I did say was, "Okay, mom." and walked out.

Then she calls me back in. "Look, ellie, I'm sorry, I'm just feeling a little frustrated."

"Why?"

"Well, you know, I feel like I've bought you those clothes hundreds of dollars at a time and... [sigh] it doesn't matter to you."

"No, mom, I do like the clothes," [even though I don't], "I just needed to get them out of my way because they were the reason my room was so messy all the time. Besides, most of the clothes in there I only kept because they had some sentiment to me or I was too lazy to throw them out, but most of the clothes in there were too small or too big or too old or not my style or impractical or ripped or cut or something, and I just couldn't deal with having to deal with them anymore." I neglected to tell her the part about how I need to rid myself of material possessions if I want to be truly free.

"Oh, I see," [she didn't], "Well, I guess that's cool then. Good job, baby." Her agreeing with me just to agree with me really isn't flattering on her. "What are you going to do with the dresser?" Years and years before when I went to my grandparents' house for the summer she completely redid my room, and she apparently painted the dresser and stenciled in the darling little flowers and leaves on the drawers on her own.

"Well, I put it in the play room for now, but a lot of my friends are moving or are planning to move, so I was thinking that if they needed it, they could have it."

"Oh. Well, that's not going to work. You see, I put a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into that dresser," [oh, poor baby!] "and so at the very least I'd like to sell it or just keep it in the family forever and not give it to anyone. But I definitely don't want to just give it away."

What I wanted to say was, "Oh, right, I forgot that helping people who need it is not nearly as important as getting reimbursed for all the hard work you did 8 years ago for a dresser that I hated then and hate now. My bad. Way to raise the bar, ma."

What I did say was, "Okay, mom. Whatever."

And I walked out. I guess it would've been good to mention that I did the same thing at my dad's house, but I didn't. Maybe it would've made her happier, but I didn't care just then. I'm so sick of this house, but I know that I'm lucky to have a roof over my head and all these little conveniences, but it's just become boring, and I want out. Anyone feel like potentially facing kidnapping charges?

P.S. It's cool, though, because I am so ZEN. I get totally ZEN in everyone's hostile little FACE. Everything is nothing, and it's so cool to be ENLIGHTENED. Like me. HELLO! I'm enlightened now. You know, only Buddha-style behaviour. Spider chrysanthemums. The Diamond Sutra and the Blue Cliff Record. Hari Rama, you know, Krishna, Krishna. You know, Enlightened.