Thursday, March 10, 2011
I never lived in a "party house" in college. After I moved out of the dorms, I lived in a two bedroom basement apartment right on the edge of campus. I painted the walls a deep aqua. The color was beautiful, but space half-underground in gray-ass Columbus does not need help achieving "pallor". I did my share of partying, just not at home. The apartment, affectionately called The Cave, was mostly a place for furiously clicking small plastic guitars and watching Arrested Development on an L-shaped orange velour sectional. As one does. Jenn and I joked that the The Cave's original paint contained lead in levels small enough not to kill us, but to make us incredibly lethargic.
I don't live in a party house now, but it is really fun to live with or next door to five of my dearest friends. It brings so much novelty and enrichment to my life - Michelle is forever painting a watercolor, or making a flower arrangement, while Mark is in the kitchen making his own sausages. Next door Ana is painting a dresser while Brigit grades papers and Melissa is shooting a roll of it all on her SLR. I think I am making it sound cheesy, but it's wonderful and normal and good for me.
I need activity in my midst. My natural state is sluggish. My default mode is a little bummed. I'm excited to get a place with Nick, but it will definitely be different than this, and this is a good thing right now.