Finally, my own room.

As far back as I can remember, I shared a room with my little brother. Well, there was an exception to that when we stayed at my Grandmother’s to finish out the school year in second grade while moving from Des Moines, Iowa back to Kansas City. During that 3-4 months, I shared a room with my older brother. I pretty much accepted it as a part of life that I would always share a room. That was the nature of what I saw at the time as being a large family. Trust me, my view of this was skewed, I grew up in the era of single child families, so having 3 siblings seemed huge to me. That’s a bit silly, looking back, considering the sizes of my parents families, and even now, most of my friends have at least 2 kids, if not 5 or 6.

Sorry, the “Irrelevant Information” alarm must went off inside my head.

So, I digress.

I shared a room, and for most of my life, a bunk bed (bottom bunk) with my little brother, so when my older brother went off to college in fall of 1995, leaving a room completely open and empty, I sprang at the chance. I practically moved myself in over night. Of course, my parents had this plan to paint the walls and things like that, which did eventually get done, but I had tasted privacy for the first time in my life, and I wanted it. It didn’t hurt that I was about 12 years old at the time. There were uses for privacy…

The décor of the room when I first moved into it is meaningless. It was all hand me down crap from my older brother, and it took me a few years to really make it my own space. Actually, it all started to come together when the wall painting finally went down. Green. Full on Hunter Green walls. The most beautiful and amazing color of wall that you can imagine, at least if you’re me. Rejuvenating. Magical. A little bit dark.

The Long flow of the room felt a bit like a cabin in a ship, to me. Against one wall was a bunk bed that was a futon on the bottom and a twin bed on top. The futon was full sized, so it took up the majority of the floor space, and across from it I had both a small entertainment center and the gem in my furniture crown for years to come, a wardrobe desk, complete with my very own computer, and eventually, internet access.

Privacy and Internet?

In retrospect my parents were damned lucky I didn’t turn into some sort of psychopathic pervert serial killer or something…

Everything in my room screamed nerdy fat kid, from the Eric Cartman mug to the giant package of after dinner mints that I still crave handfuls of regularly, though I did finally break the addiction itself. Nasty addiction, after dinner mints.

Then of course, there was dice and D&D books.

Movies, several movies, as I had both my own TV and VCR!

I was very cutting edge swank, you know.

It’s been something like 17 years since I first moved into that room, and though I have lived in many other places, I find it interesting that since my parents moved in with me back in September, back into that same house, I now live once again in that room.

The decorations are much different. It’s much more adult… ish.

But, there’s still a bed on one side of the room, and opposite that a TV and a Computer.

The Nerdy Fat Kid is the same, too.