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mudcub

When I was a freshman in college at age 18, my mom dropped me off at school for the first week. At the time, I could fit everything I owned into a Toyota Tercel hatchback, with room to spare. But I remember when I unloaded my life into a dorm room, kissed my mom goodbye, and shut the door.

The was a wonderful feeling. It was *my* space for the first time. No rules, no curfew, and nobody to bother me. Probably the first thing that I owned emotionally with no strings attached.

Door

I did the same thing today, and it was bittersweet. I have more things now at age 39; there are two storage pods somewhere in Nevada waiting for when I can find a house or condo to buy. In the meantime, I'm living out of five suitcases and an assortment of boxes. I'm renting a room from sfbritskin, a great guy and leatherman who may not know what he's getting into by associating with me!

I finished moving everything today during lunch. I sat down in the middle of the floor, since I don't have a bed yet. Just a sleeping bag on an air mattress. I wanted to put on some music, but I don't know where my radio would be. I thought about how I've kind of wasted the last 15 years of my life, and it was embarrassing that I'm right back where I started twenty years ago. But I shook off those thoughts, closed my eyes and listened to the silence for a while. Then I got up and closed the door.

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You know the skanky Brits! Hurrah!

Just don't let him slip you the tongue, he's awful, he tries it on all the time.

I don't! I will just piss on you instead now.

Well, either, (i) you don't and you needn't take offense, or (ii) you do and you're cross at being called out on it so you feel the urge to piss... which is it, Missie?

Correction darling... one is skany, the other is the lovely Richard :)

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