Memories of Lillian Avenue

Lillian Avenue was my first apartment. It wasnt so far from my folks that I could pop home anytime I wanted, but far enough to give me a sense of being completely on my own. It was a very small apartment. I'd guess it couldnt have been too much bigger than a studio and a half. There were 4 rooms, but a couple werent nearly as large as I'd like. On the plus side, it was only a block off the main bus route so there were always busses going where I wanted to be. On the otherhand, it wasnt exactly in the best side of town. It wasnt exactly city but the neighborhood was rougher than what I was used to.

He'd never stay over night, using his parents as an excuse...they wouldnt approve (strange because it was farther out than the next apartment and he wanted to stay THERE all the damn time). In fact he didnt like to spend a whole lot of time in that apartment with me period. We ended up going out most nights or to his folks and then he'd drop me off late at night. He always got pissed because invariably I'd fall asleep while he was driving. I couldnt help it though. He'd wait until after 11pm to take me home and I was tired then...plus it didnt help with the friggin headlights coming at us. Something about headlights at night makes me so drowsy (its almost hypnotic the way they come at you ...plus it makes my eyes hurt). Even to this day I have trouble staying awake in a car especially at night. Of course, then he'd leave me at my doorstep and not wait for me to get upstairs on nights like this. He'd leave all pissed off that I fell asleep on the way home. There was one particular night the fight was so bad that he patched outta there and my neighbor threatened to call the cops.

I remember once having a week's vacation in that apartment. Day one was fine, by day two I was claustrophobic. I ended up doing 5 oil paint by numbers just to stay occupied. Not once that week did he manage to come over or call to see how I was doing. Maybe it's because I'd paid the rent and he KNEW I didnt have any money on hand. Wouldnt surprise me none. He was the "I'll go if you're paying" or "How about we spend your money" type. Knowing I couldnt put out for a dinner or lunch more than likely kept him away. Learning how to budget your money is hard with that type of person around.

I dont have too many memories of this apartment as I didnt stay there long. I found out really early that I couldnt make ends meet alone and especially with a spender hanging on me. I only wish I had figured it out before my parents and brother moved from W Second St out to California. By the time I had decided I couldnt do it, they were more than likely in Kansas. A pair of ruby slippers would have come in handy right about then...