I remember a time in high school when a friend came over to my house. I can't remember if he came over to pick me up or drop me off. The bottom line is he wasn't there to spend the night or have dinner with my family. He wasn't there to hang out. I remember when he got out of the car at the top of my driveway the first thing he said was, "Wow. I'm the only guy who has ever seen your house."He was exaggerating because I can distinctively think of two other people that have visited my home in San Diego, but he wasn't far off. For whatever reason, I've never had people over. No matter where I live, I just don't invite people. Even in college, where I had my own room for three of the four years, I hung out with my friends in their rooms; not mine.
Tonight when I came home from work, I grabbed my bottle of Classic Kids Burst O' Cherry hand soap and I began to wonder: What do the few people that come over think of me after they see where I live? I started looking around at my belongings and it made me realize how different my possessions and decorations are from everyone else I know my age.
I've been to friends' apartments that are decorated with real art. I'm talking impressionism and avant-garde stuff. The first thing you'll see when entering my home is a giant How The Grinch Stole Christmas movie poster. I have friends that possess canvases of paintings that they have done themselves; I have Kramer thumb-tacked to wall opposite a Dumb and Dumber poster. I have a free Lord of the Rings poster and two free baseball posters. All thumb-tacked. No frames. I take that back. The Kramer one looks framed, but that's all part of the poster.
It isn't just wall hangings either. People my age have full and queen-sized beds. I have the same twin that was my first bed after graduating from the crib. My friends have real house plants and I have a giant fake one that I inherited from my grandparents. I'm typing this blog on the same desk that my parents bought me in the same set as my bed and dresser (which I still have).
When I think of what I have in comparison to what my peers have, I wonder what they would think if I invited them over once in a while. Maybe I'm subconsciously ashamed of my unwillingness to let go of my childhood and that's why I don't have people over. Maybe I enjoy being mysterious. Whatever the case, I need new furniture and better home decor and I plan on getting it as soon as I have a career and a more permanent place of residence. Then you can wonder what it looks like.
Listening to the Eagles.
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