the big move.

so i have moved lots of times in my life. the first when i was 20. into my sorority house. i loved that room. it had so much character. it was lavender and so tiny, but had huge mirror sliding closet doors and bunk beds. then i moved home for the summer. the next fall i moved into our new sorority house. i hated it. it was too big, less homey feeling and felt like a dorm. just all around sucked. but it was college and living up in clifton where uc was, was big for me. i lived there for two years, the last one, i stayed the summer and my friend dj and i hung out before we moved into our giant ass house on rohs street. that place was too big and i swear it was haunted haha. i got bed bugs and had to move back in with my parents. i was so depressed, but that started a new kind of bliss. no longer the sorority girl with the big brown curls, but now the blonde bitch with a new set of friends and hanging out with my sister (well she is actually my little cousin) haha arianne. she is a bliss too.
i met a schlou of people too. and then finally i had enough money to move into my own little house. this little cottage in newport. i remember the first time i saw it. sure it was a fucking dump. a foreclosure that needed a shit ton of work, but to me it was love at first site. i'll never forget sleeping on the couch, when i used a basket as my coffee table and the memories i made there. endless nights of drinking, finding my love azul, my crazy husky, having a boyfriend practically living there, but most of all having something that was mine. the bedroom, the living room, the kitchen and the bathroom all of my things. everything belonging to me. and for the first time in my life the freedom.
but a year and a half later, its all gone. taken away by a selfish piece of shit landlord. and so i start again. part of my new beginning i guess. so i sit here with boxes, upon boxes, and stopping by to collect the last few things at 168 main, and seeing the empty rooms makes me think, maybe everyone is right, its just a house. but to me it was a piece of my life. something that belonged to me that i shared with everyone else, and i'll never get that back. maybe someday i'll have a new home all by myself to share with friends and family. but i'll always have the memories, and the best one of my uncle todd, god rest his soul :) painting my bedroom and yelling at me cause i was doing it all wrong. and that i hold in my heart as i move on and just remember all the good times i had and hopefully can make new ones at 17 broadway...