A lot of you are really going to hate me after this post, but that's a risk I'm willing to take in my efforts to be honest you with, devoted readers.

First, let's establish the facts: 1) I know I'm spoiled. 2) I know I'm difficult when I don't get my way.

That said, the commotion began yesterday when I decided to visit the Volkswagon lot and test drive a Jetta. A beautiful, dark gray, brand new, 2003 Jetta. It's not as if I'm test-driving a Ferarri or a BMW. After being suckered into having my Accord appraised by the salesman, I calculated all of the ways that would allow me to make small payments on the charcoal gray beauty. The thought of asking mom and dad to pay for a penny of it never even entered my mind. However, with respect to my parents, I called my father to seek his advice before I sealed the deal. I never expected him to become so irate, but I guess anger is the logic of fools (must run in the family). After being lectured on my selfish, ungrateful nature, I left the lot in my shitty Accord.

Ironically, my next destination was the body shop. While driving on I-35 a few months ago, my car hit a stray piece from a semi-truck, which punctured the passenger floorboard of my car. I finally got around to taking it in yesterday. The estimate? No fewer than $1,000 and no sooner than one week to completely replace the floorboard. So, not only do I not get a new car; I have to go a week or more without driving while my shitty Accord incurs ridiculous costs.

That was just enough to make steam come out of my ears; then I had the pleasure of dealing with my parents yet again. My dad, a disgusting procrastinator, had failed to tell me that my living arrangements in Brentwood fell through (the guy is moving to New York). When I asked him and mom to help me out for the first few months with rent, the two become quite indignant, as if they don't have money to burn. I was mildly annoyed until they brough my middle sister into the equation. "Look at her. She saved $8,000 and hasn't spent a penny." Yeah, no fucking wonder why; mommy and daddy pay for EVERYTHING for her. And if one more person reminds me of the hard-knock life she's led, I'm going to beat him/her into a bloody pulp. I'm sorry I never had brain surgery. I'm sorry I actually have a plan for my life. I'm sorry I don't lack social skills and am therefore capable of keeping a job (a few experiences excluded).

Let's face it. The only way to survive in Los Angeles is to have financial support and extra time to pursue classes and auditions. During my freshman year of college, I told my parents that their money would be better-suited to helping me pursue a career in Los Angeles. They advised me I'd be much better off with a college degree. Yeah, a lot of fucking help that is. Not only did I despise my college experience; my degree is a null, void and worthless piece of paper entitling me to some shitty entry-level job (or worse yet, non-paying internship) that will take up all my free time and leave me with no monetary reward.

In light of the fact that I can expect no help from my parents, I see no reason to wait until January. If I haven't cooled down by the week's end, I'm waiting until my shitty car is out of the body shop. Then, I'm packing it up, heading West, and saying "Fuck you" to my parents. If they're not going to help me pursue the only thing that has ever made me happy, then I have no intention of hanging around. Let me express quite implicity that I want my fame and fortune far more than I want anything else, including relationships.