goodbye, home

Yesterday, I had one of the most fun lunches with a roommate I've grown to adore.

Today, I'm packing up my room.

Tomorrow, my roommate and I move out of the house that has held two years of both ordinary and extraordinary experiences.

So many emotions are flowing in and out of me and all around me.

It's a very odd feeling to move away from a place you love.

Yes, love.

At our fun lunch at Panera Bread yesterday, E and I were talking about how much

F U N

we have had in our little white-framed college cottage.

It's hard to not love the house that sits in the shadow of Bryant-Denny Stadium, right across the street from JD's Food Mart - the infamous 'T-town' beer supplier. Even though there were times that HATE wasn't even a strong enough word to describe my feelings about this house of ours with the crimson-colored porch. But each and everytime any of us got over-whelmed with the cramped lifestyle of typical college living, we would go out on that front porch to sit underneath the strand of retro bulb lights and watch the good life happen.

On Thursdays, it wasn't out of the ordinary to see neighbors and friends out in the streets playing corn-hole, drinking light beer, and grilling-out before th massive congregation of tipsy  twenty-something year olds would walk, like a school of fish, to 'The Strip' where more weekend's Eve  celebration took place.  In a big college town, the weekend starts on Thursdays - you Southern frat-daddy's and sorority Belle's know this.

On Fridays, my worn-in and hardly-new college cottage would be an open house to friends and family coming in for a football game weekend, a sorority parent's weekend, or a date-party or social function. On Saturdays, our crimson-colored front porch was our office where we did business and made our gameday spending money by converting our yard into a parking lot for a small handful of the 100,000 people that come to 'Titletown' on Saturday's in the Fall. And on Sunday, my beloved little college-dwelling would set the scene for a random bunch of people and activities - like girl-fights over the laundry, papers and people sprawled out across the floor in a study group, dogs running up and down the stairs, pretty much just anything that resembles a scene from the movie 'Cheaper By The Dozen', no lie.

Even though the weekends here were always fun, the Mondays & Tuesdays & Wednesdays always held just as memorable experiences. I can honestly say, if there was a fly on the wall watching everything go down this entire time, then I'm probably happier than anyone in the world that houseflies can't talk - or they'd have some pretty mean blackmail on us all.

When I moved into 1008 exactly two years ago, I was not the girl that I am today.

I was heart-broken over a boy that I willingly gave my whole entire heart to; I was dating a great guy - but a pretty significant number of years separated us in age and caused us to split shortly after move-in; I had no relationship with any of my threeroommates; and my very best friend lived two streets away which made for a very convenient "escape route."

I didn't know much about myself when I first moved in.

I decorated my room in crimson, taupe, and black.

I loved music, but I hardly felt the emotional attachment to it that I feel now.

I had 9 credit hours worth of Human Development classes under my belt, but I wasn't officially able to transfer my Major/Minor yet so I was technically still a Journalism major and a Public Relations minor. I was a part-time 'nanny' and I was still very much a part of the Duckworth family's life on the days I was working.

I was fragile, the summer before I moved in was a series of ups and downs. The break=up, a car accident, my sister's wedding, a 28 year old boyfriend, and a big uncertainty on who my true friends were. But just like everything else in life, time did it's thing. It healed my wounds and it gave me friends, but also took from me friends. The time I lived here was about learning lessons too often the hard way; it was about my quest for self-discovery; and it was a time to let go of who I was and become who I wanted to be.

What other two years in my lifespan will prove to be as critical and defining as these past two? I have no idea! It just seems that, for a girl like me, the beauty in life that shows itself in the 20th, 21st, and 22nd years is different than the beauty we unfold at other times in life.

While I've lived in this house, I grew more understanding of the difference between love and infatuation. I became more independent and saw more clearly the friendships that I could be dependent on when and if life got hard. I started my sports' blog, I started this blog, I pulled all-nighters writing program proposals, and I spent many nights sleeping with my glasses on, a pencil in my hair, and covered up in class notes instead of a blanket.

These two years have given me some of the best friends I could ever ask for.

Elena is one of the most special people in my life.

Jackie, too.

And I'm pretty sure my first-senior-year wouldn't have been as climatic without the funny, crazy, wild, compassionate, and absolutely looney stories that E and I have of living with the twinkies. Between the four of us, not a dull moment passed by behind the red front door of Oak Avenue.

Speaking of my first-senior-year (because I have a couple, so what!?), that was the year that Pappas coined the phrase

T H E

C R A Z Y

H O U S E

 T H A T

 N E V E R

S L E E P S

which later became the undeniable truth

as well as our house's nickname amongst friends.

But seriously, I saw that soulfriend of mine last night and we were joking about all the, as he likes to say "crazy shit"  that went down in this house.

Like the WWE-style fights between emotionally disturbed college girls.

And the insane amounts of candy, Icee's, and party favors brought in from JD's.

And the way we spent our gameday parking ca$h money on kegs, pedicures, cover charges, and drinking citations. I've celebrated my 21st and 22nd birthdays in this house, and I have gone through a couple phases of the ups and downs of break-ups.

You want to know a fact that we found super cool last night, too?

I've never come back to this house after a home football game, E V E R being defeated.

NOW DO YOU SEE WHY I DON'T WANT TO MOVE OUT OF THIS PLACE YET?

Do you realize that that means I lived a stone's throw distance from Bryant-Denny Stadium a.k.a.

the greatest place on earth

during two years of Bama Football that will be storied forever?

I won an SEC Championship here.

I won a BCS National Title here, too.

Oh yeah, and I watched North Carolina win the Final Four in this house as well.

A lot can happen in two years.

People come in and out your life, some relationships and friendships even have enough time in two years to go full circle, and then again. Hearts break, love prevails, friends pour salt on your wounds, and unexpected strangers morph into best friends when you realize two years later that you couldn't have done it without them. Cousins are born, friends marry, lovers move away, your favorite teacher gets fired, you raise a puppy who becomes your best friend, and you dance to a song that melodies both hope and hopelessness and both strength and fear. Two years may just be a small slice of the pie, but it holds just as much sweetness as the bigger pieces. I guess that's why I'm glad I savored it, I watched my life happen and I journaled those things. I lost many a days recordings in those journals, but I do have the best and worst memories of these past two years. And I also have the knowledge that

Baily Jordan Jones

wouldn't be the girl she is today without the happenings of the two recent years behind me.

Of course, 1008 Oak Ave, would be

 t h e

C r A z Y

h O u S e

t h a t

N E V E R

s l e e p s

and so of all the houses around here, our 5BR/3BA white house with a red porch and black shutters is the only appropriate choice for a HOUSE-FIRE.

Really!?!  Throw me a frickin' bone here!!!

But, we made it through the best of times and the worst of times, and that's because - no matter what I say, this I do solemnly vow - we had a lot to be grateful for because

1008

gave us a nest and a place to call home when we were miles from the real deal, and it set the stage for where two very important, very wild, and very cherished years of our lives took place.

So as I pack up my things and kiss this room good-bye,

I must say that I will miss this place dearly.

I also must admit in advance that I will come back to this neck of the woods when

I visit Tuscaloosa for football games and will feel jealous of the four or five

crazy, looney, best friends that will be out there in the front yard of this place selling parking spaces - I'll probably be one of those crazy, middle-aged women who will

insist on a season-long promise of a parking spot actually.

I'll tell my husband and children all the stories that went down in this place and giggle inside knowing that no one can appreciate 1008 Oak Avenue for what it's worth unless you were one of the special few that resided in this cozy little college house off of Bryant Drive.

And I'll hopefully re-tell these stories for years and years..

because it's not the H O U S E that makes these past two years so wildly memorable.

It's the F R I E N D S that were here when shit got crazy, the friends that were here when we'd throw-down on a killer house party, and the friends that were here when I needed those nights on the porch, underneath the redneck riveria Christmas lights, and talked to me about 

L I F E

and

L O V E

and filling this entire little college house with so much

L A U G H T E R

So thank you to all my wonderful roomies and gypsy friends that came in and out and got to enjoy this wild and crazy ride with us at

1008 Oak Avenue

I love you

and to the fire that tried to take me out of here before I was ready to go on my own

YOU CAN'T TAKE THESE MEMORIES I HAVE THAT KEEP ME SMILING

peace and love

baily

Don't you think it's going to be weird to hear me write about a place that isn't 1008?

Y'all had to hear me moan about it being a firezone and I know I've vented SEVERAL dozen times on here about how crazy it is to live with a bunch of girls like me.

But hey, at least we make for good stories to be retold

 I'm