July 31, 2012 at 3:09 pm Leave a comment


The roommates and I are busily sending facebook messages, texts, and google spreadsheets back and forth. We’ve never lived together before, and therefore must cull all the things we need for a functional apartment. Carren just found a full set of silverware at a garage sale. I’m bringing the set of six yellow smiley-face hotpads. I know. I want to hang them all over the kitchen.

We talk about things, about decorating themes and photos on the wall, about family dinners and who is allergic to what. (Between a vegetarian, a vegan, and a gluten-free roommate – I see lots of rice-and-beans dishes in our family future).

We’re looking forward to our own place. And we want to make it clean and cozy and so very welcoming.



In the midst of preparing for my own place, I remember advice I once heard: “Spend time thinking about what you want your home to look like, but also what you want it to feel like.”

I want my home to be a place of safety, of rest, of peace and honesty, laughter and fun and warmth and color and cheer.



 Overheard on my college campus, between a girl and a guy.

Guy: looks confused.

Girl: “No, when I say home I mean here, and home-home is home-home!”

Made perfect sense to me. I love how our hearts and homes expand and multiply.



 Mom visiting our townhome after we moved out, making sure things were painted and in order before we started showing it. Tears. It’s all wrong.

Our sensitive realtor: “No, it’s not all wrong. It will sell just fine. It just doesn’t have your love and memories in it anymore. You took that with you.”



 One of my favorite memories from college. Kelly and I were freshmen, barely two weeks into the semester. One of the few people I knew, slightly, coming into college was a sweet and outgoing senior named Katie.

For some reason, as a freshman, I really didn’t expect to talk to seniors or interact with them in any meaningful way. They were so much older. Why would they want to hang out with me? Besides, my head was spinning just trying to keep the freshmen’s names straight.

Katie invited me and Kelly to her apartment on Friday afternoon, and we had tea and zuchinni bread and talked. It was the loveliest time, and the fact that she carved out that time to open her home (I’ve almost forgotten how utterly amazing it is to be off campus and in an apartment when you live in dorms) and serve us tea and treats made an incredible impression on me.

This year, I’m a senior.

And while I want to open my little cozy apartment up to lots of friends, I so plan to pass that on and invite some freshmen over right away.



Entry filed under: art, random nonsense.

in which we fall apart and get up again I hope you still dream

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