It's the same place, but it isn't.
The roads all run the same directions that they always have, but driving down them almost feels like driving through a foreign area for the first time.
The faces look at me the same, but the way I look at them is much different than before.
In the three weeks I've been away from the place that I called home for almost 27 years, I've briefly visited there about twice a week. Each time I go back, a slow but steady progression towards this place not feeling like home sinks in.
Don't get me wrong, it has nothing to do with the people or pets that live there. They couldn't be any better of a family than one could ask for. I think this feeling has more to do with my new place feeling like an actual home.
With a nice living room set-up (about to get a step closer to complete with the rest of the furniture being delivered on Saturday), a nice comfy bed that me and the lady share (oh, and the cats share as well), and more and more things to call my own (like the beautiful grill), I think having a place of my own as well as owning some particular items for the first time is making me feel more independent. As a result, I feel like this place is home now, not the place in Oak Forest.
I admit, it's weird to go back home and see that my old room is already occupied by my sister, who had the room repainted and also adjusted the bed to a different spot of the room. This overhaul of life back at my old home is making me realize that I am happy with my new home.
It is weird seeing the faces of my family and realizing that I am just a visitor in their home. It doesn't change my love of them, but I can't help it for saying that it does change the way I view my relationship with them. Now more than ever, I view my moving out as a chance to have a new relationship with them, one where I talk to them on the phone or share talks with them online (except for my dad - I'd love to see him telling me all about his metal detecting adventures while talking on Facebook).
I look forward to this new relationship with them and the place I used to call home. I also look forward to having them as regular visitors in our home.
Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
6/21/2012
5/25/2012
B-List - Things I've Learned While Packing (List 2)
Welcome to the second edition of B-list. Last week's first list featured my top 7 favorite White Sox players of all time.
This week's list is on another timely topic. As many of you know, I'm about to move to the city with the girlfriend. I'm still in the process of packing stuff that has been collecting in my room for the past decade and a half.
The packing process has brought back some memories. In no particular order, seven random thoughts...
7. I've collected waaaaaaaay too many things. You need four or five copies of The Daily Illini from 9-12-2001 that reflect the tragedy that our nation suffered the day before? This guy had them. What about some random bent-up baseball cards from the early 90s of guys who are probably changing oil on your car? That doesn't include the stuff I still collect, like hats and beer glasses, which are all coming to the new place (as the Lady smiles).
6. Me and my friends used to be skinny. I was looking at some old pictures of y'all. Sorry to say, ladies and gentlemen, but Father & Mother time hasn't been friendly to our mid-sections. Do I blame alcohol? No. Laziness? No, not that. Decreased Metabolism? Nope. Terrible dieting habits? Uhmm....nope, not that either. Screw it, I'll just blame global warming. Increased earth temperatures caused us to balloon up 20-50 pounds. Not alcohol.
5. One Hit Wonders. I'm sure every generation of kids has a handful of albums they've bought for that one hit, only to realize that the other 11 songs are complete shit. There's a reason many of these groups did not make it beyond that one hit. Anyone looking for that Dishwalla reunion tour opening for the New Radicalz (with a 'z' cuz they're edgy and cool) might be waiting a while. Yes - I have a Dishwalla CD from the 90s, and no - I have no idea why I didn't throw that into the fireplace at some point over the years. At least I wasn't dumb enough to put them on my I-tunes playlist; otherwise, based on my new year's resolution of listening to every single song on the I-Pod, I might have to (gulp) listen to....Dishwalla. If you don't know who they are, go on YouTube and search "Counting Blue Cars" (I apologize for putting you through that 4 minutes). But please, whatever you do, don't tell me all your thoughts on God.
4. Dusty Rubbers...I'll leave that one to the imagination.
3. So much stuff, so little space. If you've ever been at the house, you'd know that my room is one of the smallest in the house. Before I moved down here in the mid 90s, the room was home to all of me, my brother and sister's toys. When shoving a bed and a dresser for clothes into the room, there's not a whole lot of square footage to navigate in the room. For this much stuff to be in the room is quite amazing. And yet, I'm still not done in there. That's more due to procrastination.
2. The Devaluation of Memories. Packing up all the trophies I received from the bowling, basketball and baseball leagues over the years, I have much different thoughts about some of those experiences now than when I experienced them back in the day. The biggest trophy in my collection was an indirect subject of my blog from yesterday - since I don't actually remember playing a single game during that baseball tournament. These participation trophies are a lot cooler when you're younger than now, when they're just reminders of your lack of playing time. It also reminds me of the three-point contest that I never got a chance to compete in during middle school since my coach gave me the wrong time for the start of the competition, and funny enough, his kid replaced me in the contest. That team participation medal that I got that day went immediately into the trash can. Fuck that guy.
Ok, I'm done venting. Seriously though, if you're ever a coach of a sports team for kids, don't be as big of a dick as that guy was.
1. I'm really gonna miss this place. That's what living in one place for 26 years (including the years at college, when this place was still technically my home) will do to a guy. Sure, don't get me wrong - I cannot wait to start my new life in a new place with a great gal. I can't wait for the new memories that are awaiting me in the future, but being the reflective guy I am, I can't help about the great times I've had at this place, save for Item 4. The toilet toss, Monday Night Raw sessions, pick-up basketball games, poker games. To leave this place behind is gonna be tough. But I'm ready to move on.
Time to create a new home in a new area. I can't wait.
Fuck that guy. Sorry, still stewing about the end of Item 2.
This week's list is on another timely topic. As many of you know, I'm about to move to the city with the girlfriend. I'm still in the process of packing stuff that has been collecting in my room for the past decade and a half.
The packing process has brought back some memories. In no particular order, seven random thoughts...
7. I've collected waaaaaaaay too many things. You need four or five copies of The Daily Illini from 9-12-2001 that reflect the tragedy that our nation suffered the day before? This guy had them. What about some random bent-up baseball cards from the early 90s of guys who are probably changing oil on your car? That doesn't include the stuff I still collect, like hats and beer glasses, which are all coming to the new place (as the Lady smiles).
6. Me and my friends used to be skinny. I was looking at some old pictures of y'all. Sorry to say, ladies and gentlemen, but Father & Mother time hasn't been friendly to our mid-sections. Do I blame alcohol? No. Laziness? No, not that. Decreased Metabolism? Nope. Terrible dieting habits? Uhmm....nope, not that either. Screw it, I'll just blame global warming. Increased earth temperatures caused us to balloon up 20-50 pounds. Not alcohol.
5. One Hit Wonders. I'm sure every generation of kids has a handful of albums they've bought for that one hit, only to realize that the other 11 songs are complete shit. There's a reason many of these groups did not make it beyond that one hit. Anyone looking for that Dishwalla reunion tour opening for the New Radicalz (with a 'z' cuz they're edgy and cool) might be waiting a while. Yes - I have a Dishwalla CD from the 90s, and no - I have no idea why I didn't throw that into the fireplace at some point over the years. At least I wasn't dumb enough to put them on my I-tunes playlist; otherwise, based on my new year's resolution of listening to every single song on the I-Pod, I might have to (gulp) listen to....Dishwalla. If you don't know who they are, go on YouTube and search "Counting Blue Cars" (I apologize for putting you through that 4 minutes). But please, whatever you do, don't tell me all your thoughts on God.
4. Dusty Rubbers...I'll leave that one to the imagination.
3. So much stuff, so little space. If you've ever been at the house, you'd know that my room is one of the smallest in the house. Before I moved down here in the mid 90s, the room was home to all of me, my brother and sister's toys. When shoving a bed and a dresser for clothes into the room, there's not a whole lot of square footage to navigate in the room. For this much stuff to be in the room is quite amazing. And yet, I'm still not done in there. That's more due to procrastination.
2. The Devaluation of Memories. Packing up all the trophies I received from the bowling, basketball and baseball leagues over the years, I have much different thoughts about some of those experiences now than when I experienced them back in the day. The biggest trophy in my collection was an indirect subject of my blog from yesterday - since I don't actually remember playing a single game during that baseball tournament. These participation trophies are a lot cooler when you're younger than now, when they're just reminders of your lack of playing time. It also reminds me of the three-point contest that I never got a chance to compete in during middle school since my coach gave me the wrong time for the start of the competition, and funny enough, his kid replaced me in the contest. That team participation medal that I got that day went immediately into the trash can. Fuck that guy.
Ok, I'm done venting. Seriously though, if you're ever a coach of a sports team for kids, don't be as big of a dick as that guy was.
1. I'm really gonna miss this place. That's what living in one place for 26 years (including the years at college, when this place was still technically my home) will do to a guy. Sure, don't get me wrong - I cannot wait to start my new life in a new place with a great gal. I can't wait for the new memories that are awaiting me in the future, but being the reflective guy I am, I can't help about the great times I've had at this place, save for Item 4. The toilet toss, Monday Night Raw sessions, pick-up basketball games, poker games. To leave this place behind is gonna be tough. But I'm ready to move on.
Time to create a new home in a new area. I can't wait.
Fuck that guy. Sorry, still stewing about the end of Item 2.
5/11/2012
Packing Away the Memories (And Ready to Make New Ones)
I just packed my first box to move out.
I know that doesn't sound like much, but it's the first step of moving my belongings from the basement that I've called my own for the past 17 years and a home I've stunk up for the past quarter century.
I remember my first nights down here, wondering what the hell the sounds were coming from the laundry room. Not sure if they were imagined or real to this day.
As I grew older, I remember having my first beer down here, a can of Miller Lite that looked to be many many years old (it didn't taste that bad, given it was many many years old and that it was Miller Lite). I remember all of the Monday Night Raws I would host with friends coming over to watch the teenage male soap opera before it went all PG and started to suck.
And who amongst my friends of 10+ years doesn't love remembering the days of Toilet Toss, which required a person to throw a tennis ball from the couch aligned with the bathroom into the toilet. Surprisingly (or maybe not), the shooting percentages of me and the friends were not very high. But it wasn't so much making it in the toilet that made us enjoy the game, but rather my dad getting pissed off at the sound of a ball hitting off the bathroom wall. At least we didn't paint a backboard on the wall (think positive, Dad).
I don't remember where I heard this one, but sometime during my college run from 2001-2005, I believe my brother was supposed to move down here to end my reign as King of the Basement (no, unfortunately, I don't have a crown for this). However, my folks were hesitant to let him have a room/area to himself that would be hard to supervise him and his g/f. They didn't have much faith in my ability to get a girlfriend at the time (can't say I blame them - I'm far removed from my days as a nerd that was uncomfortable talking to girls).
The last of rituals that was established downstairs were the poker games, usually on Wednesdays, that would last until 1 or 2am. The side tables would create the most fun though, with random card games being played for four or five times more than the hold'em tourney about to finish off. All the while, some beers were consumed, even by Buddy, who would often be jonesing for a beer whenever a game was going on
I think it's fitting to tell these stories as it represents the immature side of my life. That may never change though. However, taking the next step, moving into a place with Jen and being responsible for a lot more now, it makes me reflect on all the times spent in the basement/garage over the years and realize how much I've grown.
While I have many more boxes to pack before moving out in three weeks, I figured I'd reminisce a little about all the good memories I've had in the basement down here. I haven't given much thought to what I'm leaving behind until now. I must say, I'll miss some aspects of this place.
But it's time to move on, become a responsible adult, and start the next chapter of my life with my great girlfriend. Time to become a Chicagoan, soaking in the sights and sounds that the city has to offer - including a great view of Lake Michigan from our complex's rooftop.
In the meantime...to my friends of yesteryear, anyone up for a game of Toilet Toss before I leave the suburbs?
I know that doesn't sound like much, but it's the first step of moving my belongings from the basement that I've called my own for the past 17 years and a home I've stunk up for the past quarter century.
I remember my first nights down here, wondering what the hell the sounds were coming from the laundry room. Not sure if they were imagined or real to this day.
As I grew older, I remember having my first beer down here, a can of Miller Lite that looked to be many many years old (it didn't taste that bad, given it was many many years old and that it was Miller Lite). I remember all of the Monday Night Raws I would host with friends coming over to watch the teenage male soap opera before it went all PG and started to suck.
And who amongst my friends of 10+ years doesn't love remembering the days of Toilet Toss, which required a person to throw a tennis ball from the couch aligned with the bathroom into the toilet. Surprisingly (or maybe not), the shooting percentages of me and the friends were not very high. But it wasn't so much making it in the toilet that made us enjoy the game, but rather my dad getting pissed off at the sound of a ball hitting off the bathroom wall. At least we didn't paint a backboard on the wall (think positive, Dad).
I don't remember where I heard this one, but sometime during my college run from 2001-2005, I believe my brother was supposed to move down here to end my reign as King of the Basement (no, unfortunately, I don't have a crown for this). However, my folks were hesitant to let him have a room/area to himself that would be hard to supervise him and his g/f. They didn't have much faith in my ability to get a girlfriend at the time (can't say I blame them - I'm far removed from my days as a nerd that was uncomfortable talking to girls).
The last of rituals that was established downstairs were the poker games, usually on Wednesdays, that would last until 1 or 2am. The side tables would create the most fun though, with random card games being played for four or five times more than the hold'em tourney about to finish off. All the while, some beers were consumed, even by Buddy, who would often be jonesing for a beer whenever a game was going on
I think it's fitting to tell these stories as it represents the immature side of my life. That may never change though. However, taking the next step, moving into a place with Jen and being responsible for a lot more now, it makes me reflect on all the times spent in the basement/garage over the years and realize how much I've grown.
While I have many more boxes to pack before moving out in three weeks, I figured I'd reminisce a little about all the good memories I've had in the basement down here. I haven't given much thought to what I'm leaving behind until now. I must say, I'll miss some aspects of this place.
But it's time to move on, become a responsible adult, and start the next chapter of my life with my great girlfriend. Time to become a Chicagoan, soaking in the sights and sounds that the city has to offer - including a great view of Lake Michigan from our complex's rooftop.
In the meantime...to my friends of yesteryear, anyone up for a game of Toilet Toss before I leave the suburbs?
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