Home sweet home

They say that home is where the heart is.

But is it always?

Sometimes home is simply a dodgy house or apartment that is just cheap enough to afford.

Sometimes home feels more like a halfway house.

Sometimes home is a pink room with fairy dust on the walls.

And if you're as lucky as me, sometimes home can feel like a christian camp.

I'm going to take you on a little journey through all of the places that I have called home.

Let's go back 11 years to when I was still 17...

Home number 1

This cottage was the first place I payed rent.

It was on Milton Rd, Auchenflower and at the time I think the rent was only $220 a week.

3 bedrooms, big kitchen and a vertical backyard.

I moved in with a bed, a chest of drawers and a hideous second hand brown couch and I couldn't have been happier about it. I was living with a guy called Adrian and a girl called Nicci.

Between the 3 of us we managed to fill it up with enough items for it to constitute a home.

I was free! Living independently was fanfuckingtastic.Why hadn't I done this sooner?

Six months into our lease however, it became apparent that the honeymoon was over.

Share housing was hard.

Adrian got a horrible girlfriend who would insist on being at our house 24/7 and made an annoying habit of screaming the fucking house down with these obviously fake orgasms at any time of the day or night.

Adrian stopped cleaning up after himself. There was a peculiar smell wafting from his room.
 Used condoms were scattered all over his bedside and floor.
Then one day I came home to find his emptying out him room.
The bastard was doing a runner!
He grudgingly gave us the rest of the week's rent and that was it.
Despite it being quite an asshole thing for him to do midway through a lease, we were happy to see the back of him and his fuckface girlfriend.

I forgot to mention that by this point Nicci and I had hooked up.
She was my first live-in girlfriend.
We decided not to have anyone else move in and stayed there until the lease was up. There was a lot of beer consumed in that house. But also a lot of green tea.
So it evened out. I made amazing friendships and learnt a LOT about myself in this cottage.
Despite it looking like a house that a crack whore might live in, it holds many, many good memories.
I'm pretty sure my heart was in this house.

So that's house number 1 in a nutshell. I have realised that if I put all my homes in one post it will be way too long so I'm gonna do them separately.
The next post will be on a shitty old Toowong unit. Thrilling I know.
Stay tuned folks ;-)