Weirdness
I've decided this whole house owning thing is weird. Not bad weird. Good weird.

For a whole week now, I've owned a house. I haven't lived in a house since I lived with my parents. For many, many years I've been in apartment hell. I am SO glad to be out of there. No more sharing walls, loud music, loud neighbors, fighting over parking spaces, and walking long distances to check my mailbox. I hope I never have to go back to apartment life.

Of course, the weird thing is that this house is MY house. I am responsible for all of it. And, I probably won't be leaving it in a year. Or even two. I could be there for a very, very long time. That's a cool thought, because I HATE moving. I've moved almost every year or so for the last ten years. But now the realization that I will be in the same place for a longer time is kinda scary. Just the time I really get sick of an apartment, I have the opportunity to go someplace else. I can pick up and leave at the end of a short lease. Not so anymore.

I hope nothing breaks. Ever. I'm handy in small ways, meaning I can fix simple things. I can even use a few tools without doing any real damage to myself. I drilled with my new drill yesterday for the first time. Successfully, and I almost enjoyed it. But overall, power tools scare me. And I don't currently have the know-how, or the money, to fix anything major. That's what boys are for, anyway. To do power tool stuff and fix things. If anything major breaks, I will definitely have to call a boy of some sort. Maybe I will have my very own boy by the time something breaks. How long do houses last?

That reminds me again that this whole house thing is weird. I didn't want to buy a house this way, being alone and unmarried. I've gotten used to the fact that my life so far has not turned out the way I ever thought it would, in more ways than one. I always pictured my first house would come after getting married. And I always figured I'd be married by now. My husband and I would buy our first house together. We'd fix it up and have many wonderful memories at the beginning of our life together.

In some ways, this house buying thing has been sad for me. I haven't lost all hope that I will someday be married, and in a house with my husband, whether this one or another one. But still, the first house is a major milestone, and it's been very weird to do it on my own. Exciting and fun. But sad that I'm not sharing it with the love of my life. It's like I've gotten things out of order somehow. It's a big, three bedroom reminder that I am still, emphatically, alone and not married.

It's also been bittersweet because my sister is no longer here to share this with me. When I think of having a house, I enjoy the thought of it being a place where I can have my people. My friends and family and loved ones alike. It's such an exciting big venture, yet there's something missing without my sister being here to witness it with me. To help me decorate and make it a reflection of who I am. She would be all in the middle of it, taking the decorating and stuff my mom has done (for which I'm very thankful) and helping me tone it down into what works for me, like sisters do.

The house is missing her touch, even though she is everywhere in it. I have many of her things placed around the house, stuff that has meaning to me because it was hers, or reminds me of her, and it also seems to fit perfectly in the right spots in the house, like it was meant to be. She's there, but she will never be there. Never visit or stay in my guest room. Never cook with me in my kitchen, or help me plant stuff in my yard, or help me paint my currently tulip wallpapered bathroom. These are things I took for granted that would happen someday. I looked forward to it. And now I miss that I will never have it. You assume your family will be around for the big moments in life. This is one more moment in a line of many more to come, one major event, one milestone that hurts without her here to share it with me. I think there will always be that pang of pain when big stuff comes up. It's tough to not let that take the fun and joy out of it.

But I can say that I am having fun and finding joy in my new house. I can't say I haven't been an emotional roller-coaster wreck the last week or so, swinging back and forth between happiness and excitment, and sadness and fear. I've entered adulthood, reluctant to leave pre-adulthood. I've become a responsible member of a neighborhood with new, big responsibilities. Buying a home is officially the mark of an adult, and it's a scary thing to do.

But, armed with my new drill, bug pesticide, channeling my sister's keen sense of decorating, and many episodes of Trading Spaces, I forge ahead for as long as I am in this house.

It will be good.

C.T.