Dismantling the Dago Den

Happy holidays, lovelies!

           

            Hello, all! One über quick mini-update and then I’m going to cut right to it.

            -I’m starting training for a waitressing job in January. I’m really nervous about it because, as shown multiple times in this blog, I don’t have the world’s greatest attention span. But I’m going to try my damndest, and I’ll keep all of my lovely imaginary/invisible readers posted.

            -I have successfully buried my heart. It took a final very brutal nail in the coffin to happen. But there it is. And I feel better.

All right, now to get down to the meat of this post.

I can no longer afford to live in my current apartment, popularly known as the Dago Den, and a friend and I are moving into a new place together.

            The decision to do this happened very suddenly, and I had to leave to my hometown for Christmas the very day we signed the new lease. When I get back, I’m going to have to pack up the Dago Den all by my little self and make the move.

            It hasn’t really hit me yet, but knowing me, I’m probably going to start crying when I’m packing. Not because I’m not excited about moving to a new apartment; I’m always excited to make a new space my own. But even though the new place is in the same town, not all that far away, I feel that by leaving the Dago Den, I’m leaving behind a chapter of my life, and I’m leaving it very suddenly.

            …and now I’m totally distracted because I’m watching Nightmare Before Christmas, a staple of my childhood. ‘Cause I’m Mister Oogy Boogy, and you…ain’t goin’…nowhere!

            Aaaand we’re back. I came to the Dago Den when my ex-fiancé and I ended our disastrous relationship. It was the very first time I was living alone ever, and I was terrified. I hadn’t really been single since I was fifteen years old. I learned about myself within the walls of the Dago Den, I figured out who I was there.  It was my apartment , my own space, and I made it my own place with paintings and posters and dry erase marker and window paint.

Living alone is something I recommend everybody do at some point, preferably before deciding to settle down with somebody. I learned more about myself in the year and a half I lived on my own than I had at any other point in my life so far. I’m very sad to leave my beloved Dago Den, but I really can’t afford it anymore. As of January, I am financially on my own with no help from my parents, who have been more than patient with me throughout my entire time in BG. I’ve decided to call my future roomie Swarley in this blog because I’ve been getting him into How I Met Your Mother and he laughed his ass off at the Barney/Swarley episode. I’m seriously tempted to call him Alice, which is what our nearly 90-year-old future landlord mistakenly called him when we met her…but I’m not that cruel. I’ll save the ball breaking for outside the blogverse.

…probably.

Hehehehe….Alice.

Anyway, I’m excited to move in with Swarley and have a roomie, but there are going to be a lot of things I’ll miss about living alone. Oddly enough, the very first thing that comes to mind that I’m going to miss is singing. I believe the best way to describe my voice is somewhere between a cat caught in a lawn mower and an overweight drag queen who’s smoked for the past forty years. At the Dago Den I sing my lungs out, sometimes the minute I come home and shut the door. I’m sure my downstairs neighbors won’t mourn my moving, and I’m definitely not going to make my roomie’s ears bleed.

I’m going to miss taking forever in the bathroom. I’ll tease my girlfriends about how long they take to get ready for a night out…but only because they start getting ready at the time we’d planned on heading out. If I have the time, I’ll start getting ready for a night at Ination two hours in advance. I love taking long showers, lounging in a bubble bath, and experimenting with makeup. Unless I want Swarley to lynch me, I’m not going to be putting on some music and spending two hours in front of the bathroom mirror.

I’ll miss being able to change my environment at my leisure, also. I’ll have to limit my random creative explosions to my bedroom. Seeing as I’m only there for a few months and Swarley will be living there for at least a year, I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate me writing on the walls like I do at the Dago Den. I’m also not going to be able to slack off on doing the dishes and cleaning, either. When I live alone, I don’t have anyone to answer to but myself, so every once in a while I let dishes build up in my sink, clutter build up in my living room. With a roomie, I’m not so inconsiderate.

But I think what I’ll miss most is Naked Time. As seen by my many Ination pictures, I’m not someone who always feels the need to wear a whole lot of clothing. At the Dago Den, I wear even less. If the blinds are closed, chances are, it’s D’s Naked Time. With a roomie, I’m going to have to be clothed all the time. The only problem I anticipate is my sleepwalking issue. Whenever I wear pajamas to bed, I wake up with them thrown across the room. Once I actually ripped a shirt I had been wearing to sleep down the front. Apparently my subconscious hates jammies. Pair that with my sleepwalking, and we have the potential for an awkward situation. Hopefully my bedroom door has a lock on it or I might have to find a way to lash myself to the bed (what up!) like I did when I lived in the dorms on campus.

Despite all I’m going to miss about living alone, I am pretty stoked to have a roomie. Though Stella deterred most feelings of isolation for me, living alone can definitely get lonely. Having someone there when I get home has always been something I’ve missed, and it’ll be nice to have someone around again. Not to mention the pranks we’re going to pull. Swarley and I are bros, and it’s practically part of the Bro Code for bros living together to prank the shit out of each other. It’s going to be legen….wait for it…

Anyway, living on your own is a wonderful experience. You get to know a lot about yourself, things you may never learn if you’re constantly with someone else like I’d been since fifteen. I’m going to miss the Dago Den so much, but I’m never going to forget the lesson I’ve learned there.

That’s all for now. Merry Christmas/Happy whatever the fuck else you celebrate, my darlings!

…DARY!