How can I put this in a way that doesn't make me sound like some sort of gross nudist pervert? I'm not always the most diligent about wearing clothes when I'm home. Years of living in apartments with no windows in the bathrooms, kitchen, etc. will do that to a person.

You're ready to hop in the shower and realize you left something in the bedroom, you don't bother covering up to go grab it...at least I don't. I'll just run out in the buff to get it. I'll be getting ready for work and the dress I want to put on is in another room. I don't get dressed to GET DRESSED, if you know what I mean. Peter doesn't complain and I don't think I've flashed any bits to any unsuspecting victims.

Anyway, I've gotten into the habit of being au naturel pretty often; not in an unsanitary way (I'm not sitting at the dining room table completely nekkid or playing Guitar Hero in my birthday suit), but yeah, I do prance around the house in various states of undress on the regular.

Saturday night was our first night spent in the new house. Sunday morning, I was home alone and needed to get dressed. Let me preface by saying the house is still quite a disaster zone...we're sleeping on the floor in the spare room and our clothes were in giant black garbage bags piled on the living room floor. So I went downstairs to find some clothes in my very natural state. Hunkered down over the garbage bags, I cheerfully searched away for the ones labeled "Amy" on a quest for a pair of shorts.

And then I realized...we have neighbours now. Neighbours right across the street. Neighbours who can easily see right into our living room windows through our very sheer curtains and are probably choking on their eggs and toast at the sight of my white ass in the air. I hit the floor and slithered, random shirt and shorts in hand, into the sanctuary of the kitchen. More windows! There was nowhere to hide! I squatted in front of the stove and yanked on my shirt (backwards) and shorts (inside out) in record time, panting and feeling very much like a deer that just dodged a pack of hunters and vowing not to parade around in the buff unless the blinds are securely covering the windows.

Lesson number one: do not let your neighbours see your bathing suit areas, especially on your first morning in the neighbourhood.

When I was almost four and a half, my happy little kid world was thrown into turmoil. My sister was born, a baby so fat her nickname was Michelin Man because her arms and legs had as many rolls as the Michelin tire mascot. With the arrival of this chubby newcomer, everything changed. Suddenly, I had to learn to share, both the spotlight and my toys. I had to be quiet during naptimes, even though Laura screeched at all hours of the day and night and kept me awake. Abruptly, I had to stop being the baby and start being the big sister.

I loved my new role. I volunteered to hold the baby, feed her, play with her. I read to her and played music for her and tried to teach her how to walk. I would follow her around the yard, holding her hands above her head and trying to hurry her along faster than her plump baby legs wanted to go. She'd fall on the ground, and I'd swing her back up to her feet, somehow not pulling her arms out of their sockets, and keep trying.

Before long, she was the one following me around, and I was getting tired of her always being there. My mom was busy with a new baby, our brother, so it was my job to entertain Laura.

We shared a room, and I'd flop on my bed with the newest Babysitter's Club or Nancy Drew in my collection on a hot afternoon. Laura would sniff me out after about half a second and want me to play with her. I'd scream at her to get lost and then stage a dramatic wailathon to my parents about how I didn't have any privacy. "You two are sisters. You should get along better," Dad would say. He built me a bedroom in the basement so I could have my privacy. The first night I slept downstairs in my new room, I lay awake half the night, listening to the noises of the house, imagining bugs in my bed, and wanting to be back upstairs in the pink room with Laura.

Growing up I think we were always just one or two years too far apart to be really close. When I was suffering my way through puberty, she was still playing with dolls. When she was starting to get crushes on boys, I was driving and drinking (not at the same time!!) Our lives didn't really overlap except for the occasional brief little bonding that would happen over a girly movie, a shopping trip, a song on the radio or a parental injustice.

But even though we had very little in common, I always felt like I could vent to her. Even if she had no idea what I was talking about, she would listen and nod, generally agree with me, and once in a while throw in a little bit of insight. I told her secrets like crazy and knew she wouldn't rat me out and to this day she is one of very few people I can confide in.

Once Laura got out of high school we became a lot closer. Suddenly we're both adults, and for the first time in our lives, the playing field is level. We can both drink and go to R-rated movies and own vehicles and come and go as we please. We've both lost jobs, survived messy breakups, and embarrassed ourselves while waaaaay too drunk. We're peers now and we're more alike than either of us ever thought when we were kids.

Next weekend, Laura is getting married and it's weird for me, because as silly as it sounds I'm still getting used to the fact that she's grown up, that she's actually old enough to be someone's wife. I'm going to have to get used to the notion, but a big part of me still sees her as the chubby little toddler in the yard. I'm glad we've been able to become friends, and I'm happy to say she's one of my best friends. Dad was right...sisters should get along. I'm happy we do.

And I'm definitely going to bawl at the wedding.

Last night, I admit I got a little misty-eyed and emo looking around our apartment. We've lived here for two years, and it was the first place *we* picked out together and decorated together...the first apartment I have lived in that truly feels like it's been a home. The apartment is nice and spacious, it has AC, it has pretty maple cabinets and stainless steel appliances and a jacuzzi tub and a ton of good memories. (Why are we moving again?)

Then we went to bed...and one of our awesome neighbours decided to operate a circular saw until 1am. What apartment dweller even owns a circular saw? Who does carpentry work on Sunday night at midnight?! WHAT COULD POSSIBLY NEED CUTTING AT 1AM???? As I lay there, unable to sleep, I began thinking about the things I won't miss about apartmentland.

1. Weird Neighbours.
There will still be weird neighbours on our street, I'm sure. The difference is we won't be attached to them. They can be as weird as they want in their own house and in their own yard. Run your circular saw 24/7, I won't give a shit.

2. Elevator Drama.
I will not miss waiting for the elevator, riding in an oppressively hot elevator that smells like farts, being squeezed into an elevator with eight large senior citizens, or making awkward unwanted conversations about the weather.

3. Laundry Drama.
Currently there are about 12 units sharing two washers and two dryers. Nine weekends out of ten, one of our riff-raff neighbours will put their stuff in the washing machines on Saturday morning and leave their wet clothes in there all day. I refuse to be the jerk who moves people's clothes out of the machines so I usually just stew and run out to check every 15 minutes until they move their stuff to the dryers, slamming doors and making a lot of unnecessary obnoxious noises in the hallway to get the point across. Being able to wash and dry clothes whenever we feel like it will be a nice little luxury. Bonus--we'll be able to hang clothes outside to dry!

4. Parking in the Elements.
I almost can't wait for winter so I can NOT brush snow off my car and scrape ice off the windows. Almost. I am going to be able to go from house to car without even stepping outside. Suck it hard, Mother Nature!

5. Power Failures Do Not Apply.
Our apartment building runs on a generator which is awesome/awful. Awesome because the power never goes out. Awful because when other people get to call in to work because they had no power to get ready, I have no excuse, but have to show up all clean and blow-dried and such. Now I too get to stay home and freeze with candles and a deck of cards and boxes of stale crackers! Woo hoo!

6. White Walls.
The first thing we're doing, after we clean the new house top to bottom, is painting. Nary a white surface shall remain.

7. Going Outside Requires A Plan and A Vehicle.
So a few weeks ago, it was a nice day and I wanted to go outdoors to read. I had to give it some serious thought as to what park I was going to go to, drive there, find parking, and walk to a suitable reading spot only to be sexually assaulted by someone's dog. Then another dog came out of the contaminated harbour where it had been swimming and shook fecal harbour water droplets allllll over me and my book. I'm really excited to be able to go outside and sit in the grass or on the deck in our yard whenever the urge hits, without investing an entire afternoon or getting molested by strange animals.

8. No Trick-or-Treaters!
Living in a security building with very few children, we never got any trick-or-treaters before on Halloween. One of the things I'm most excited about is having kids come to our house to trick or treat. Our new neighbourhood is very kid-heavy and I'm sure I'll be taking back my Halloween enthusiasm after we've doled out treats to a couple hundred kids, but right now, I'm excited to have our first batch of ghosts and goblins arriving. Same goes for Christmas lights. Being able to decorate our yard for Christmas sounds really fun right now, and will probably continue to sound fun, until we get our December power bill.

9. No Dogs.
This is a huge one for both Peter and me because we both grew up with dogs, we both love dogs, and we both suffer from serious dog envy when we see people walking their pooches around our neighbourhood. We haven't lived in an apartment where having a dog would be practical or even fair, since we hate the idea of keeping a dog cooped up in a small space all day and only letting him out for quick breaks. Our new house has a fenced-in backyard so there will be lots of room for a dog to run around without taking off.

10. Old People Are Firebugs.
Our building is largely populated by old folks: good because they are total watchdogs and will notice right away if there are any unsavory characters around, AND because they're mostly deaf (turn up the surround sound as much as you like...they can't hear a thing.) However, it's bad because they do stupid stuff like put a casserole in the oven and then forget about it and wander over to the mall for six hours or fall asleep. We have a lot of fire alarms, and sometimes they're legit fires. Last year the whole eighth floor was destroyed because some lady forgot her supper was cooking and went out visiting, her food burned and the sprinklers came on. Knowing that we won't be burned alive because of old people being forgetful makes me feel just a tad safer.

Those are just a few things I won't miss about life in an apartment. There's plenty I will miss: for example, not having to shovel snow or do yard maintenance, and being able to just call the landlord anytime something isn't working right, and generally having no real responsibility...those are all pretty fantastic. Depending on how you look at it, renting and owning both have their benefits. What do you guys think?