Thursday, February 3, 2011

:: The Good Ol' Days, Part 1 ::

I can remember moving up here, dating Ryan, looking for and purchasing our first house right before our wedding, living in that house, "Forty Fridays" and the like, but it's getting hazy.  We had a 1700 (?) square foot house, brand new construction and really cute.  The downstairs consisted of one great room, tiny kitchen and dining area, laundry room with door out to the garage, and a half bath (I guess they are called powder rooms?).  Upstairs, there were 2 more small bedrooms, a full guest bath and our master bedroom, which was HUGE) and our master bath (which was tiny).  We made one bedroom into a weird office-type hangout room with one bright red wall.  We took the closet doors off and put a desk in there with our Gateway (ha) computer with (ooooooh!) a flat screen monitor.  Also, the futon with the swanky new dark denim cover that cost way too much, but we didn't care.  The other bedroom was, well...a mess.  I don't really remember ever going in there.  Most of our Ryan's junk went in there.  An old couch, shelves, dusty books and cds, instruments and CRAP.  That room was awful.

We'd cram a ton of people into that downstairs most weekend nights (anyone remember the velour inflatable couch?  anyone?) and hilarity usually ensued.  We mounted a sweet shelf in the corner of the room and hoisted our TV up on it.  We had a corner fireplace in the opposite corner from the TV with a huge shelf on top, which was wasted space since there wasn't an outlet to put anything cool like, say, a lava lamp or stereo up there.  I think I stuck a plant up there with a couple of candles?  Oh!  I had a mirror.  That's right.  We had brand new everything - couches, chairs, dining room set from Pier 1 back when they were cool, and everything else a couple with no kids should have.  [I hardly remember what it's like to have a house with no kids' stuff in it...it would be weird.  and kind of sad.]  We had a small back yard that we didn't care too much about and a deck that really was never used, (built lovingly by Jeremy Sandeno).  We painted a wall in the downstairs bathroom with chalkboard paint (Lyndsay Lamb could tell you some cool stories about that) and mounted a little basket of chalk on the wall.  We would always remember to "censor" the bathroom wall if we had special company like, say, grandparents.  We stayed up late.  Really late.  We both worked full time, so we made sure to have plenty of fun on the weekends and, like I said, have lots of people around.  Our driveway was pretty steep.  One snowy night, Ryan in his car and I in mine, could not get up the driveway and into the garage.  We would circle around the cul de sac, hit the gas, turn, and make it halfway up the driveway before fishtailing and sliding back down.  After a few passes each, Ryan finally made it up and parked on the left side of the garage.  (In a VW Thing, in case you were wondering).  He climbed into my car as I slid over into the other seat.  He eventually got my car in, but it was pretty much like threading the needle trying not to hit his car or the side of the garage.  Eventually, we got it.

When we first married, we didn't have a TV.  We would color, play games and listen to music.  Oh and do puzzles.  Really, it's true.  You would never think that now.  Ha.  We also didn't have curtains downstairs (those weren't really on our priority list...totally not cool enough.  besides, who wants to buy curtains when you're saving up for a tv?)  One evening, our sliding door got nailed with eggs.  One after another.  We looked, but couldn't see anyone.  This went on for a few nights, so we began to watch from the window upstairs.  We saw some kids creep out and pelt the door with eggs, then scatter.  Ryan ran downstairs as I watched which way they ran, seeing them vanish into a yard nearby.  We walked over to the house in question and rang the doorbell.  A homely young woman who looked absolutely like she'd been worn ragged by a bunch of unruly kids answered the door.  We explained the situation and watched as a knowing look appeared on her face.  She called the kids to the door - a bunch of unruly boys.  One whose shirt we recognized from our backyard.  At first they denied it, but still offered to clean the mess up. They finally fessed up.  Mom made them apologize and handed them each a roll of paper towels and bottle of Windex.  We stood around in our backyard and chatted as the little hellions cleaned up their mess.  Their mom felt so bad - Ryan and I downplayed it...after all, they're just kids.  And boys.  And we did worse things than that when we were kids (sorry, moms).  We never did have any other problems with those kids.  But we did buy curtains.

The End.