On Thursday I am moving. I am leaving Uptown Waterloo and the student ghetto for the suburbs. I am seriously going to miss this apartment.
I moved into this house on September 1st, 2008. I was starting my last co-op term and I had a roommate. I set up my home office in the living-room and spent every day in front of the window. That fall term was probably the most fun I'd ever had on co-op. My two closest friends were in town and we spent as much time together as we could. I hosted pub-crawls, potlucks, and many out-of-towners. That Christmas, my friend gave me a bottle of vodka encased in a plastic disco case. The bottle was promptly hung in my living-room doorway for all to bump their heads on. It is still there today and it will most definitely be on display in the new house. That term was full of hangovers, wonderful friends, and amazing memories.
January 2009 I started my final term in school. This term was uneventful. I spent a lot of time at school finishing up projects. I had a job set-up for post-graduation. I didn't have to move. Smooth sailing.
April 2009 I finished my undergrad and my roommate moved out. I agreed to keep the two bedroom apatrment as I'd once again be working at home and it would be nice to have an office. I set up my desk in the little bedroom and proceeded to fill the livingroom with nicer furniture and even hung pictures on the wall for the first time. I graduated, I gave the valedictory address, I found Boomer. This summer was pure bliss. I was single and happy, making an adult living and enjoying my new furry companion. My apartment became my life. I spent everyday here and hosted so many friends for pre-uptown parties given the 2 minute commute. Boomer and I became familiar with the park right across the street. This summer was eye-opening and for the first time I was doing it all myself.
Fall came and eventually winter. December 16th I invited a friend over and then we were going to head uptown. We ended up at a bar and more friends showed up. That night I met the guy I'm now moving in with. We had our first date in my kitchen. I made butter chicken. We sat in my Costco folding chairs and Boomer laid under my kitchen table, a table I had previously bought for $10 from a friend leaving town. We sat on my couch and watched Mean Girls on my 22" rear-projection TV, one which I'd bought in January 2004 on my first co-op term.
2010 has been quite a year. I spent new-years with the new guy, bought a real TV and eventually decided to buy a house.
This apartment has been the centroid of the past two years of my life. Not just any two years but two years in which I went from a hungover undergrad to an adult to a dog owner to a home owner.
I'm going to miss the solid wood doors with the glass door knobs. I'm going to miss the seven closets that allowed me to store any mess I didn't have time to clean up. I'm going to miss the blue bathtub and sink and the 6' mirror in the bathroom. I'm going to miss the large second floor windows that allow me to keep the lights off until the sun starts to go down. I'm going to miss the ancient hardwood floors, now full of scratches from moving furniture and a hyperactive dog. I'm going to miss the little blue kitchen where I cooked a first date meal and so many more after that, where I mixed every drink imaginable, where I failed and succeeded at so many new recipes. That kitchen and it's 2.5' of counter space is the inspiration for My Messy Kitchen. I'm going to miss the 1 minute walk to Uptown and the park. I'm really going to miss this place.
So why the hell am I leaving?
- drunk people on the street yelling
- broken bottles cutting up my dogs feet
- no parking
- noisy apartments all around me
- no yard for Booms to play in
- paying RENT
So long peeps, see y'all in the 'burbs!