My sister's hippie house
I helped my sister move yesterday. She lives in Chattanooga, and she's still going to U.T.C. She's lived in her apartment for a couple of years, and in that couple of years, she's accumulated a bit of stuff. Guess who got elected to tote said heavy stuff.
The house she's moving to isn't far from her apartment. It's an older house not far from Signal Mountain. A couple of miles from down town. It's up on a hill....but so many things in Chattanooga are up on a hill. I would also say it's near a tunnel....but you can't sling a dead cat in Chattanooga without hitting a tunnel.
It's a friend's house. She's got an empty bedroom.
The thing I noted when we were moving her bed and chest of drawers into the house was how tiny it is.
And I don't mean floorspace, though it's pretty small in that respect, too. I said she'd accumulated a fair amount of stuff, and there's absolutely no way it's going to fit in her little room. Hell, her bed takes up more than a third of the floorspace. I offered to cart some stuff up to store in her old room at the folks' house. I think she remains optimistic that she's going to find a way to fit it all into that little house she's sharing.
It's terribly small in stature. It was built in a magical, wonderful time in the 1940's when people apparently didn't grow to the awesome proportions that I have achieved today, in 2003. Seriously, I'm 6'4" and I'm pretty broad at the shoulder (and the gut). I felt the top of my baseball cap brushing the doorways when I walked through them. And if I walk through the doors, the outsides of my arms brush the door jamb.
Makes me wish I could go back in time. I could rule the world. Big Giant Tommy.
Her friend is an art major. So her works are everywhere. It's a very colorful house. Lots of paintings. Lots of posters. Lots of colorful bottles.
Like I said, it's an old house. Very small. She getting cheap rent, but she's trading a washer/dryer and also a parking space.
And if I weren't a giant, I don't think I'd mind living there. But I would eventually crush the house. I'd be afraid I'd accidentally knock it over and tear it down in the midst of my nightmare thrashings.
I helped my sister move yesterday. She lives in Chattanooga, and she's still going to U.T.C. She's lived in her apartment for a couple of years, and in that couple of years, she's accumulated a bit of stuff. Guess who got elected to tote said heavy stuff.
The house she's moving to isn't far from her apartment. It's an older house not far from Signal Mountain. A couple of miles from down town. It's up on a hill....but so many things in Chattanooga are up on a hill. I would also say it's near a tunnel....but you can't sling a dead cat in Chattanooga without hitting a tunnel.
It's a friend's house. She's got an empty bedroom.
The thing I noted when we were moving her bed and chest of drawers into the house was how tiny it is.
And I don't mean floorspace, though it's pretty small in that respect, too. I said she'd accumulated a fair amount of stuff, and there's absolutely no way it's going to fit in her little room. Hell, her bed takes up more than a third of the floorspace. I offered to cart some stuff up to store in her old room at the folks' house. I think she remains optimistic that she's going to find a way to fit it all into that little house she's sharing.
It's terribly small in stature. It was built in a magical, wonderful time in the 1940's when people apparently didn't grow to the awesome proportions that I have achieved today, in 2003. Seriously, I'm 6'4" and I'm pretty broad at the shoulder (and the gut). I felt the top of my baseball cap brushing the doorways when I walked through them. And if I walk through the doors, the outsides of my arms brush the door jamb.
Makes me wish I could go back in time. I could rule the world. Big Giant Tommy.
Her friend is an art major. So her works are everywhere. It's a very colorful house. Lots of paintings. Lots of posters. Lots of colorful bottles.
Like I said, it's an old house. Very small. She getting cheap rent, but she's trading a washer/dryer and also a parking space.
And if I weren't a giant, I don't think I'd mind living there. But I would eventually crush the house. I'd be afraid I'd accidentally knock it over and tear it down in the midst of my nightmare thrashings.
posted by Tommy at
08:08
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