I'll miss you clawfoot bathtub.
I'll miss you, stained glass window.
I'll miss you, yellow striped wallpaper.
I'll miss you doors I found on an old entertainment center on the sidewalk.
I'll miss you exposed brick and blue wallpaper.
I'll miss you, miles of counter space. I will NOT miss you, space-wasting and non-functional trash compactor.
I'll miss you, peach striped couch and kitchen look-through.
I'll miss you, pink and purple porch swing, handmade for me on the occasion of my 25th birthday. We had some good times, but there's no room for a porch swing where I'm going.
I'll miss you, spacious and light-filled room. I'll miss you, three windows.
I'll miss you second room. That's right, I said second room. How interesting that in terms of space and scale, my city apartment kicks my parents' single family suburban home squarely in the rear. If I sound bitter or show-offy, I'm really not. It's just that my parents have lived in that same (crappy) house for the last thirty years, and I wish that they could see that there's more to life than living in a falling apart house twenty miles from the nearest movie theater or Thai restaurant. (I'm really excited to go back, can you tell?)
I'd also like to mention that these somewhat menacing twin towers of boxes are composed only of books. So, you know...Now I can start packing everything else. Whee.