My week at home is coming to a close, and though I know it’s not going to be the last week I spend here this summer (or I want to think it’s not.) it’s kind of depressing the crap out of me.

This though, isn’t surprising. I mean, my life here was always really stable and home here has always been something comfortable to me.

I have yet to achieve that in my own apartment. My boyfriend Noah makes me feel safe and happy. But it doesn’t yet have that “home” feeling.

That’s basically what we’re doing, for the next quarter of our lives or so, us, as humans, building our homes and our lives are striving to create that feeling.

It takes a long time.

It’s trying to turn your childhood bedroom into your whole home, sometimes while dealing with another human being trying to achieve the same thing but from a completely different history.

You know what makes a home for me?

Plants. My mom has a green thumb and no real garden space, so in half the rooms in the house (excluding the bathroom, kitchen and dad’s cave) there are pots and pots of plants. Not really flowers, just green leafy things in pots.

Paintings. The walls in my home are awful, cracked and painted over and just *ugly*. It works fine for my family, because my dad is an amateur painter. (He paints things because he wants them, so he refuses to sell them) And likes to paint big things. I think his smallest one is 16X12, and that’s markedly small for him.

A kitchen with well stocked tools. A rolling pin, a mixer, a table, mixing bowls and utensils. The ability to have the tool you need at any moment. 80% of the time. (Mom isn’t has “LETS DO EVERYTHING HOMEMADE!” like I get sometimes)



Mom has already given me one spider plant with some ivy. I named him Stanley. If you’re looking for a plant that can take abuse, get a spider plant. In my last apartment it couldn’t get any light at all half the time, we move to our new place, stick it in front of a north facing window, and it grew 3 inches in 2 days. Just keep the water moist, (watering like once a week) with distilled water. (Get a jug or something and fill it full of water and leave it out until it needs watering. It won’t sit out long enough to become stagnant and gross.)

She’s going to give me a little sunflower and some basil too. I wonder if you can get sunflower seeds off of little sunflower plants…I honestly don’t know if it would even flower. I’ll get back to you when I find that out.


Dad refused to give me any of his paintings, but he did give me a huge piece of masonite board he uses to paint on. I’ll have to do my own.

And no, I have no, no no freggin clue what I’m going to paint. I have a picture of a flower that I really like that I’ll probably do. (That’s what most of dad’s paintings are of, living to dead flowers.) Or I’ll find an iconic landmark in the area and paint that. OH! There’s a building by the Huron River just down the hill from my apartment. Abandoned paper mill. I’ll paint that. You can see the sign practically everywhere on North Campus of Eastern.

Okay, I think I’m starting with that, whether or not that ends up like that I have no idea.

I’m a working college student building a home.

After tomorrow my posts will actually contain things I am doing, not just things I’m going to do.


For your trouble, here’s a trick!

Get sharpie out of clothes by soaking it in milk, refreshing the milk over and over until it’s completely gone.



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