Watching the movers carry all my stuff out of my college house four months ago was one thing, but now that our lease is up and the people who have been my surrogate family for the last five years are all moving on, it's definitely the end of an era.
Three years we've lived in that same house. So many memories. Domestic disasters and critter infestations and endless piles of dishes and late-night pizza ordering and pancakes and a few parties and occasional catty drama, birthdays and homecomings and halloweens, a peeping tom, a horrifically failed attempt at wop, and even one time a random guy passed out on our porch.
It's been a damn good run. And as my roomies and I sat in our empty living room last weekend delaying the inevitable cleaning I couldn't imagine having spent it living with anyone anywhere else.
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