The Last 4 Years of my Bedroom

You should see my room right now. It's that time of year again- back to school season. And back to school this year is very different than it has ever been for me. I'm going back to graduate school, because somehow I made it through 4 years of college in what seemed like the blink of an eye. I can't even begin to describe the last 4 years and everything I have learned, experienced, and had the opportunity to do. Which is why I won't. This "blog" is about my room. (Hense, the first sentence!) So, back to my room. It's a mess, but more than that, it says so much about me and how I have grown up through my college experience in the last 4 years. When I left for Queens New York in August of 2005 my bedroom at home had blue walls- a perfect shade of plain blue. I had got milk ads everywhere, funny magazine cutouts, drumsticks from the at the time rockstar boyfriend hanging on the walls. I had a few shirtless men cutouts as well most likely, and more photographs than Kodak. The walls have very recently been painted a very warm and comforting shade of off-white. It's a little creamier than the typical "egg-shell" so I might in fact call it "egg-nog." In fact, that's the exact shade. Eggnog.

So in my eggnog room I have a few very sophisticated paintings on the wall. Small. With black frames, and the same eggnog matte on each one. One if a classy and fabulous girl walking through New York City, and one is a different classy and fabulous girl walking through Rome. (The two cities I've lived in besides for my humble little town in CT.) I also have a few of my own photographs framed and hanging above my bed, not to mention the two crazy pieces of art I made to hang on my wall as well. On my shelves are books, picture frames, fancy wine glasses, candles, and more pictures. On my desk is a lamp, another candle, and yet more picture frames. There are a few other various items everywhere, or actually, strategically placed due to my minor case of OCD (which I diagnosed myself with. My co-worker told me it's a sign of wanting to be "in contol." Yikes.) The colors are warm and cozy, the pictures are full of beautiful smiling girls.

The boxes and bags around my room contain jewelry, purses, food, makeup, all kinds of female necessities to take back to my new apartment with me. I have about a million and one errands to run today, people to say goodbye to, and things to clean and organize. It's always heavy on the heart to say these "goodbyes" full knowing I will see most of these people in a few months. We still share all of life's secrets, we still keep in touch, we still love each other. But not being in close proximity of each other on a regular basis hurts. But that's life. Doesn't life hurt? Life hurts. But it doesn't kill us. And it's what doesn't kill is that only makes us stronger. However, the messy room behind me, mixed with my self-diagnosed OCD, just might kill me.