I grew up in a family of eight and shared a room with my little brother. There was always someone home. After high school, I moved out and had various roommates over the years. No privacy, no control, people eating your food. I wanted to be alone without being confined to a bedroom so, at twenty-five, I moved into my own apartment. I had no money for anything but rent but I didn’t care. I was alone.
Everyone should live alone at least once in their life. I did it for three years. It was the best thing in the world for me. I became reliant on myself for companionship, my own best friend, master of my domain — in my tiny little apartment.
I need my Alone Time. Hey, I love being around people but every once in a while, I need total spaz out time with myself. This weekend, I had an opportunity to document my Alone Time and now you have the opportunity to see just how much of a dork I am. I don’t care! I had a great weekend.
The video camera is kinda crappy (or I haven’t figured out how to use it) and I have not put on my video editor’s cap in a very long time but I had a blast nonetheless. (You might want to give it some volume…)