Basement Dwellers

Lets talk a little bit about what having our own place really means to Nate and I.  For some people, its all about independence.  Proof to themselves and their parents they can make it on their own.  For others, they never really had a choice.  They relocated for a career, or they just simply outgrew their childhood home.  Nate and I aren't different from said people, we are just a strange combination of all circumstances. 

We'll begin after college, when Nate continued his career in hockey...in Texas.  He brought with him a suitcase, a hockey bag, and me.  Our first experience living together in a really awful apartment.  We're talkin cockroach infested, strange Texas-mutant-crawly-things climbing up the walls, rat droppings, in-your-face odor of cat urine every time you opened the door, used and abused furniture, second-hand plates, cups, utensils all plastic nonetheless.  Don't get me wrong, it was rent free living, so we appreciated what we had and the opportunity, but it was a very unglamourous way of life. 

In the off season we would bounce between Alberta and Michigan to maximize family time, get summer jobs, live in our parents basements so as not to waste money on renting a place for only a few months.  This cycle repeated for four years, in four different cities, on two different continents.  It never made sense for us to buy our own place, we never knew where hockey would take us, when he would hang up the skates, where we wanted to settle.  So, we started calling ourselves basement dwellers or the people under the stairs or the kids in the basement.  We had fun with it at our pride's expense.

For any adult children who have lived with their parents, for whatever reason, you will understand my next rant.  Its the small things really, which we will never take for granted when we move in to our new house.  Like waking up in the middle of the night, getting completely clothed, walking up two flights of stairs just...to go pee.  Sometimes I wish it were acceptable to pee the bed.  Or the sound of people moving about above you.  Call it a talent, I can tell exactly the goings on above us.  In Texas, we had an adventurous couple, who never tired and held sack races in their hallways, and continued the race in bed...every night, multiple times.  Our living situation now is very different, their footsteps tell me they're getting a small glass of water, making toast with jam not butter, or perhaps a chicken sandwich, playing hockey...at 7:30am on a Saturday...in the dining room...directly above our sleeping heads. 

I've already decided to invest in quality curtains for our new place.  One of the first things I will do is run around naked.  And commit to it by throwing away my robe.  I will take one really long shower, only once though, not good for the environment and it makes me all pruny.  I will play my music loud.  I will sleep in on the weekends.  I will not be considerate of the other people we live with, because we won't live with other people.  The first time, in a very long time, we will no longer be basement dwellers.