Saturday, July 23, 2011

Saying Goodbye To My Solo Life

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Packing up my studio apartment has me thinking about everything I'm going to miss about living on my own. Having spent two years on my own, living the good life, the thought of moving back in with my parents is more than a little petrifying. Don't get me wrong- most of me is really excited to be moving back home. Seriously. The quality family time, the home cooked meals, the DVR, the spacious backyard, and the high quality kitchen for baking. I'm really looking forward to all of that. But there are a few things I'm freaking out about giving up...

1. Underwear Weekends- Sometimes known as Naked Weekends, or Tank Top Tuesdays- Basically anytime in which I can prance around my apartment in little to no clothing is my favorite time of life. Like, what could be better than sitting around your apartment, alone, wearing your undies, drinking beer and watching Saturday repeats of Ice Loves Coco?

2. Late Night Shenanigans- Whether it's 10pm or 4am, when I walk in the door at the end of the night, there's no one waiting on the other side to make me feel guilty. No one is shaming me for staying out late. No one's judging me for stopping at Taco Bell on the way home to pick up a Crunchwrap Supreme by myself at 2am. I roll in, (sometimes) take off my makeup, and face plant into bed.

3. Secret Solo Behavior- This consists of a multitude of activities... Dancing around my apartment singing Britney Spears classics, spending hours online looking up recipes I'll never cook, using my Windsor Pilates circle for 10 minutes and telling everyone the next day that I worked out, eating food in bed while simultaneously watching TV and listening to music on my laptop. I'm not even embarrassed to admit that, as I type this on a Friday night, I'm in bed, eating pizza, watching Tommy Boy and listening to Taylor Swift. I'm so disconnected from reality that I don't even know which part of that should be the most embarrassing.

4. Being My Own Boss- I go where I want to go, when I want to go, how I want to go. I don't exactly know what that last one means, but whatever. It's probably true. Living by yourself, you don't have to depend on anyone else to determine when you're leaving the house. I run the proverbial show. If I want to try 18 different hairstyles before I leave the house, I damn well can. And if I want to tell my friends I'm sick and instead of going out, go home and paint my nails while I do a deep cleansing mask, then I damn well can!

5. Sexy Times- I mean this one is probably the worst. How the hell do you have sexy times while living with your parents? And by sexy times I obviously mean holding hands. That's all my boyfriends and I ever do- hold hands and hug a lot. Hi Mom! ANYWAY. My apartment was the perfect bachelorette pad. The fridge was always stocked with beer and little else, and my bedside table always had condoms. FINGER CONDOMS FOR INJURIES, GUYS. COME ON. If I bring a guy home to my parent's house, they would first both pass out from sheer shock, and then make the poor boy get them his tux measurements for our future wedding. I'm not doing that to some unwitting kid who's just looking to go up to my room and hold hands. It's just not fair.
carmen

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