1984-1990

I lived in this house from the age of seven until I was twelve. I am making this post because I dreamed of this very house last night. I have a LOT of mixed emotions right now, thinking back about this house.

The house didn't use to look like this. When we moved in, it was four of us. My sister and I shared a room, and my mom and stepdad shared a room. We had two dogs. This place was an ugly burnt orange painted color when we first moved in...Carrie and I had bunkbeds and it was the first time I had ever lived in a place with hardwood floors.

I remember when we first moved in, we discovered this shelfpaper in the bathroom under the sink that showed this woman's tit. It was supposed to have a Roman feeling (some fat chick with her arm in the air, covering her boob with her other hand) and we squealed when we saw it.

Me and my sister's room is on the left side of the house toward the back. You can slightly see the window in this photo. My parent's room was the entire front left side of the house. The left double window is their window. The right double window is the living room. The house has two bedrooms only.

This house had a major roach problem. The roaches were EVERYWHERE. You'd step on them in the middle of the night when you walked in the kitchen. They'd come out of the faucet when you were laying in the bathtub. You'd open up a bag of bread to make a sandwich and there'd be roaches scurrying around in the bag.

My dad used to sit out on the porch and drink beers and blast his stereo. This is how I was introduced to Dire Straits, Pink Floyd, and Neil Young at such a young age. All the neighborhood kids thought my stepdad was so cool. But I don't think anyone knew what went on INSIDE this house. Except for us.

My stepdad was a major alcoholic. A lot of physical abuse went on in this house. He's apologized for it, and I've forgiven him, but I still remember all of it. He would warn us ahead of time when we'd get our asses whipped. So we'd go to school all day long and worry about what was going to happen when we got home. The house was so fucking small and you could hear everything that went on in the other room, to our horror. My sister Carrie always went first to get it out of the way and over with, and I would sit in the living room and cringe and cry. And when I say we heard everything, we heard EVERYTHING. Sex. Fighting. Abuse. Arguments. A lot of inappropriate shit for kids to be hearing.

Anyway, I kind of got off track. Fast forward a few years and it was seven of us living in this house. Five children, two adults, and two dogs. Carrie and I in one bedroom, my parents and the twins in their bedroom, and my little sister in the living room. It was like living in Calcutta. It was fucking awful.

I wouldn't trade any of it, though. I have so many AWESOME memories of this neighborhood, formed so many friendships, even got my heart broken a few times. I wish I could say that my wonderful childhood memories included my parents, but they don't. They only involve my older sister and my friends.