(NOTE: Just realized that this didn't post when Blogger was having "issues")
Week 19. Bedroom.
We moved around quite a bit when I was growing up, but some of my best memories were of sharing a room with my brother. I think my parents were more excited for me than I was to “graduate” to my own room; I remember missing my brother terribly for the first few months. We tended to sneak in chats at bedtime when we weren’t supposed to and I feel like after we had our own rooms, we didn’t really have those chats any more.
We lived in the same house for junior high and high school, so I got used to one bedroom. It was right off the kitchen and conveniently located near the phone with the loooooonnnnnnggggg telephone cord, so that I could take the handset into my room and still have some privacy. ‘Cause, you know, it’s important to be able to talk privately RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER FROM YOUR PARENTS WITHOUT A CLOSED DOOR IN BETWEEN.
At one time, my room had two twin beds that acted like daybeds at right angles and one slid under the corner side table. I even had a coffee table. VERY fancy for a kid to have sofas and a coffee table in their bedroom. Sadly, I was (I am going to use the past tense here just so that I can maintain a sense of dignity) a major slob and so both beds and the coffee table were always piled high with clothes, books and Crap. And the floor, too. Often, things would stink and in doing the Purge of Garbage, I would find items that once were food. It was not pretty.
My twin beds were later replaced by a pull-out sofa. Coffee table was still there. And I never really did the “pull-out” part of the sofa because of… well, all the clothes, books and Crap. But I had a sofa and coffee table in my room. I’m sure if it were neat enough to allow friends in, they would have thought I was super cool.
I also had a HUGE desk in my room. It was left there by the prior owners and I loved that desk. Big and bulky and plenty of room for all my Crap. I loved to do my homework at that desk. My brother would come in and be my DJ, spinning record after record for me while I studied. I loved that. Until he’d get fidgety and tear apart my jewelry and cassette tapes. Then the love was not so much…
I spent a lot of time in that bedroom and sadly can't find a single picture of it.