What is something you do well?
I think I'm a good listener. I've had lots of different life experiences, and I can empathize with what people are feeling most of the time. I care about my friends, and because I'm not much of a talker myself, I have no problems letting other people dominate the conversations. I can think back on all the times I've wanted to vent, and the mistakes I made by not doing so. So whenever someone has a problem and wants to talk about it, I make sure to listen because that's what they need.
It doesn't matter to me if some people need to vent more often than others. I don't think they're "whiny". Everyone these days has tons of problems. Parents, school, friends, trust issues, issues of self discovery, religion, stress, et cetera, et cetera. Some people are more willing to talk about the troubles they're going through than others, and I don't think there's anything wrong with that. So I listen, and I hope it helps.
What is your favourite room in your home and why?
Don't you just love British spellings?
My favorite room is not the office where the computers are. Nor is it my room, where my super-comfy bed and all my books are. And it's not the kitchen, although I love cooking and trying to make something resembling food in there. My favourite room is the boathouse.
It's below my parents' room and the garage, and it's supposed to be use for boat storage. For the longest time it's just been a general storage place, and for most of my childhood it was a very unorganized storage place. Everything, and I mean everything could be found inside. For a young kid, imagine what a treasure land such a place would be.
I remember at least 7 tries that have been made at organizing the boathouse and it's contents. With the exception of the last try, they were all only moderately succesful. Three of those times it was done by me, usually with the help of friends. Of course, we didn't actually organize things. Noooo, that'd be way too boring. Instead we'd make club-house type setups out of it. Organizing the old rocking chairs and ladders and wood and tiles and tools to make ourselves an indoor fort, where we reigned supreme. We personalized that place using everything from spraypaint to stone chisels, seriously. The third try by us I remember making one of the coolest setups ever by running in an extension cord plugged in outside. I actually had lights hanging from the walls and ceiling then, how cool is that!?
It was awesome to go in there during storms with the lights on, sitting back in the rocking chairs, messing around with whatever was at hand, watching it rain while basking in the warmth the lights provided(I had a lot of lightbulbs in there). Treehouses had nothing on my place.
Like all good things it had to come to an end. My mothers various boyfriends, each with a typical adult non-understanding of how cool it was for me to have my own area of the house, attempted to organize the boathouse into some semblance of order and usefulness. One after another, they swept aside my boyhood wonderland, and took on a task similar to organizing a million pennies by shininess.
My mother got re-married eventually, and so Joe of course is the one who succeeded. Now the boathouse is not much more than a storage shed. But I can still go in there and remember better times, from spray painting the walls with my name in blue to sitting in a warm glow amidst a torrent of rain. It's one of the few places I can still go and feel the child I once was.
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