The Pains of Pennsylvania

So, I’m at my parents’ place in Pennsylvania now. And before you ask, no it’s not in Philadelphia or Pittsburgh. And now that I’ve named the two cities of Pennsylvania that you know of, you really don’t have much to say, huh? Because you think that that’s all there is to this particular state, don’t you? That there’s no other city of value in this giant state that’s roughly the size of Donald Trump’s ego, right? You believe that all other cities in Pennsylvania are pretty much carbon copies of each, bound by mediocrity and just way too much space, don’t you?
Well, you’d be right on all counts. Except for the bit about Donald Trump’s ego. That’s scientifically proven to be immeasurable.
I live in a small district called Greeley, which means nothing to you, in a gated community called Hemlock Farms, which also means nothing to you. I’ve never lived in a gated community, because I thought those places were just for rich people and narrow-minded groups living in a dystopian world filled with zombies and a lack of empathy. Oh wait, sorry, I shouldn’t be so redundant.
I’m kidding! That’s stereotyping and it’s not okay, Will. I apologize. After all, the rich don’t have a monopoly on narrow-mindedness.
Anyways, yes, gated communities exist, and yes, we are now living in one. It’s not too bad at first. There’s a community center with two pools and a small gym which is pretty nice. And the area itself is very pretty, with little ponds here and there and lots of trees. On the surface, it all seems very quaint and lovely, but there are a few problems I have with this place.
First of all, there are so many freakin’ rules. I would tell you how many there are, but I can’t because they only number the chapters in which there would be subcategories in which there would be the actual rules. For example, there’s a chapter on Erosion and Sediment Control which has 6 subcategories. Who needs these many rules? It’s like living in a dorm, but worse because we also have to maintain the property on our own.
Which brings me to my next point. There’s a reason why only rich people live in gated communities. Every single thing costs money. All the services you assume would just come with living in a gated community costs money. Think a garbage truck will come pick up your trash on a certain day of the week? Nope, we’d have to pay for that so we go to the community dump and throw all that shit away ourselves. Carefully separated into paper, plastic, and trash too. Think someone will mow the lawn for us since keeping it a certain length is mandatory according to the rulebook? Not a chance, we’d have to cough up dough for that too so we just bought an expensive lawnmower. Think we’d get our own mailbox of all things? Nope, we gotta rent one out, which we did because otherwise it’s just a hassle. Gated communities are great to live in if you’re rich.
“But Will, if you rented a house in a gated community, doesn’t that mean you’re somewhat well-off yourself?”
Shut up, you rhetorical imaginary idiot. It’s true, we’re better off than before and we were able to get this nice house at a bargain deal, but after we got it, we couldn’t even afford a dining table for the first few weeks. We ate on cardboard boxes. Thankfully,  we got a dining table on a Korean craigslist, so it’s not that bad anymore. And my dad got his paycheck so now he can pay back my little sister after taking her tuition money.
Okay, okay, enough pessimism. I sound a little too bitter when it’s actually not that bad. I’ve been spending time with my family which is always nice for a little while. After that little while, I feel the need to strangle something, but I haven’t reached that stage yet. Right now, they just bug me a little.
Speaking of bugs, FUCK BUGS.
You know what the other thing Pennsylvania is known for besides Philly and Pittsburgh? The Brown Mothafuckin’ Recluse Spider. This little shit has a venom that literally dissolves your flesh. As in if you don’t get to the hospital immediately after getting bit on the leg, there’s a high chance you will have to amputate your leg. A carpet cleaner cheerfully told me that while examining a bite on my leg. Thankfully, it turned out to only be a bee sting. Only.
Oh and the carpet cleaner informed us that the previous occupants of the house had dogs that weren’t potty trained and pissed all over the carpets. And also that there was an infestation of fleas, which explained all the bites I’ve gotten since I’ve been here. I don’t think I’ve gotten a proper night’s sleep in the last 5 days. Holy fuck.

It’s really not that bad guys. I just needed to rant a little bit. Don’t worry, I’m fine. I promise the next post won’t be as angry and a bit more organized. Hopefully.

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2 thoughts on “The Pains of Pennsylvania

  1. Hey its me!
    Oh my god please don’t do it, You’re cute boy and you don’t have to be angry. But we know that sometimes we have a bad time. You have to be relax.
    Although there are no good places there is always a moment in which everything will be solved not stress and just get on some things and bad things. Although some things are bad or good we must adapt everywhere. Likewise gradually he will put everything in order. Everyone has a first time.
    I advise you to go step by step and you will not have much stress and angry with yourself
    I hope that now you will okay, so… FIGHTING! We can do everthing if we propose. ❤
    Have a nice day/evenign/night!
    BYEE ❤

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