...broke into the old apartment

Well we are officially out of our old apartment -- and I am officially having what I fear...no hope, no KNOW will be the first of many beers. I did good today, with the whole not-getting-weepy-thing. Had I stayed a moment longer the echoes of laughter from the past two years there would've really gotten to me. I can't believe we don't live there anymore, what a blast we had together. First, I should thank the three lovely ladies I lived with. Beck, Manders, Jules: you people are amazing and I can't imagine my life without you. We knew how to throw one helluva pre-game for our Wisconsin Badgers didn't we? (Can't believe we made my parents sign a contract to do a beer bong, what's more, they did it and did it well!!) The pre-games are just one portion of my memories at 1615, filled with beer, hot ham sandwiches, and me proclaiming "This is the best day ever, I love today!".

Another frequent occurrence, whose memory will continue to bring a smile to my face, were the Drunken Group Sleepovers. I was always excited to wake up to (or come home to) a train wreck of friends sprawled out all over our house. Whether just passed out after a post bar, homeless and in need of a place to sleep, or actually having planned to sleep over all along, it was great to have you guys there. I could reminisce about 1615 for hours but the demands of my new place (which I am gradually falling in love with) are calling me and I have already finished my first-of-many beer. Thanks for all of the memories guys, what a wonderfully-crazy, two years it has been.

AFTER THE FACT -- I found this written entry tonight 10/16/05 and I felt I had to add it to this post. Date: August 6th, 2005 = the last night in my second favorite house (I made sure I walked home one more time... I needed some solo moments for mourning).

I just ran into the door between the kitchen and the dinning room, it made me laugh and cry simultaneously. Neither of those responses had anything to do with the actual physical pain of the run-in. I don’t want to leave this place. I hate this. I’m sitting here with tears streaming down my face and I seriously cannot figure out what my problem is! I'm kinda thinking that I need help, because I don’t think this is a normal reaction for someone in college, who has only lived here for TWO years. I don’t know what to do… but I hope I get my shit together.