Yikes!

It's 7:07, and in the next 38 minutes I need to eat dinner, make icing, get dressed and pack up to go over to my old house for a party that is both housewarming and birthday party.

Friends of Eric's, who I like to think are now also friends of mine, bought the house that I moved into to live with my ex and four other roommates. It's a beautiful house, and Mike and I had talked on more than one occasion about how nice it would be if we could afford to buy it.

It was pretty close to a shithole when we lived in it, though. There was a giant hole in the bathroom ceiling that we pinned a poster of Bruce Lee over. It was tight at first, but over the months, gently sagged down till it actually looked like he was going to kick you as you brushed your teeth. Everything else was 25 years old: the carpet, the paint job, the wall paper. Ugly and dingy.

As soon as we moved out, the landlord gutted the place. No carpet, no wallpaper. Refinished hardwood floors, light yellow paint that reflected the amazing amount of light most of the house got.

The first few times I went there were really weird. Even the last time, I could still feel the ghost of my previous life there shimmering under the present. The only time that was a bad feeling was when I tagged along on the tour and Diane showed us their office. Mike's old bedroom. We did a lot of loving there, and started the lot of our fighting there too.

It was a melancholy moment. Or rather, the ghost of a melancholy moment shimmering under the surface.