Harlequin is officially on the move (finally - never again, NY real estate, NEVER AGAIN). The parentals are coming in a U-Haul at 7am tomorrow and I am never, EVER going back to dorm living. I'm 21 years old, a senior in college, and so done with room inspections, signing my guests in, signing my guests out, liquor rules, window lock rules, roommate agreement contracts, shitty roommates, less than zero privacy, dorm parties, and everything else stupid that goes with living by school rules. I'm an adult. More of an adult than some people I've met who are far older than me.
Picture courtesy of Lindsey - it's a very empty little space, right now, and it feels a bit alien and inhospitable as of yet, but hopefully by the end of the weekend I'll be able to call it home. I want a place to call home. Dorm does not equal home. Home home is almost a vacation spot now. I need a New York home.
Second to last performance of my summer festival tonight. I got a darling surprise in the form of my high school director and some old friends making an impromptu appearance to come see me perform last night, and it made me all warm and fuzzy on the inside.
I'm supposed to be getting lunch uptown with a friend in an hour. We'll see how that goes, if I can get ready quick enough with the maintenance suddenly going on in my kitchen. :P