So my sister and I were talking about our holiday plans to go to Arizona and spend some time in our childhood home that is currently on the market, and has been on the market for over a year. We were all, “It’s a good thing the house hasn’t sold. Ha ha ha! Silly house, it’ll never ever sell. No way is it going to sell by the holidays! It’s a good thing too, because that would really mess up our plans. No one wants to buy it anyway.” Oh stupid girls. Stupid stupid stupid.

Shortly after this conversation the childhood home received not one, but two, bids. My parents are in escrow and if all the inspections etc go smoothly, the house will belong to another family by November 12th.

I’m a little sad about it. My dog is buried in the back yard along with a lot of my cats. The bedroom I lived in from age 5 to 18 and then lived in during the summers is going to be someone else’s. The Mexican tile covered cement stairs that I nearly broke my shins on every day are going to bust up some new kids shins. The kitchen counter my sister and I shoved green beans under in a smooth attempt to not eat the most disgusting vegetable ever is going to get some other vegetable shoved under it by some other vegetable hating kids. The huge living room that could hold over 12 sleeping girls in Care Bear and Smurf sleeping bags is going to be the living room of some other girl who probably likes Sponge Bob and who knows what else. The balcony I used to scream “I hate you!” over to my parents and my sister and the world is going to be someone else’s balcony to scream over.

None of this really matters. It’s just a place I happened to spend a lot of time in.

Oh yeah, and Jeremy Piven is courting me in my dreams. But he wasn’t Piven, he was his character on Entourage. My world has been flipped upside down and I get Jeremy Piven as Ari Jacobs? Come on subconcious! Work with me.