by Erin Kathleen

Created on: April 29, 2008

It might have been the coolest thing about me. I honestly believe it was the sole reason behind a few of my greatest friendships growing up. My room was like another world for my friends and I. It was like something out of a movie, and no matter what my friends did, they couldn't match their room to mine. I can see every corner; every square inch.

My door was hidden in "the wall of coolness", as I liked to call it. It was a wall completely covered from top to bottom in random anythings that I could attach to it somehow. Magazine clippings of hot guys, celebrities that I envied, exotic places to visit, and funny words. I had neatly written lyrics or poems on colorful paper, silly key-chains hanging from tacks that were also holding up some other piece of life, deflated balloons from birthday parties, ribbons (to add flare), and signatures from all of my friends.

The next wall was just as fun. It was my "wall of art". Back then, I had a million hobbies that would one day make me famous. This wall showcased my artistic abilities at their finest. From corner to corner, top to bottom, I had pictures that I had drawn, painted, or even just colored in with crayons. I was always so proud to explain each one to my friends when they'd ask what my 'inspiration' was, or how I had learned to draw so well.

Leaning against this wall of art was my shelf. Oh, what a shelf it was! Taller than I had ever grown, it was multicolored and as eclectic as it gets. The top two rows were crammed with different liquor bottles (which was SO cool of me, by the way) filled with colored water. The next two rows were odd pieces of art that I had created in ceramics class at school. The last two rows consisted of stacks upon stacks of magazines- only the kind that cool people read. None of that Highlights junk. It was Cosmo and People.

I was lucky enough to have a large stone fireplace in my room. It had originally been a den, converted to this emasculate fortress of awesomeness.Surrounding my fireplace were the many street signs that I had bravely "stolen". Of course, this made me even cooler. Little did my friends know, our street had been redone and the signs were up for grabs.

My bed was really from a movie, with it's large steel frame and canopy top. It was cloaked in a sheer black cloth and covered in leopard print pillows. Quite possibly the coolest part of all, was my front door. Yes, I had a front door in my bedroom. Every teenager's dream. It was my escape. My EASY escape. While I would pretend that I used it "all the time" to sneak out...it was actually used for something even better. I would scoot my little desk chair right outside the door every summer morning, and watch the sun rise while I listened to the birds singing. Even then, I had a sense of respect for the simple things in life. Even with all the craziness going on inside my room, my best moments were spent sitting rid outside of it. This is where I would appreciate life. Where I would write, or think, or dream. This is where I tried to anticipate my future and where I grew in order to obtain a completely different outcome.

So my room was the coolest thing about me. It molded me and changed me. It gave me personality and experiences. But the space right outside my room is what made me who I am.

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