This is a descriptive essay about my house.

My House.

Upon entering my house, you notice the mismatched brown and blue plaid couches under bare walls. A huge television blocks the only window in the room, with an old scratched coffee table groaning under a weeks worth of mail. Guacamole colored shag carpet over powers the cheap Asian rug trying to smother it. The blue and brown couches are as comfortable as reclining on bales of straw covered with course burlap. A pomegranate candle sits on top of the television and is lit every morning to drown out the subconscious avocado smell from the 70's shag carpeting. Walking through the living room into the kitchen, overcoming the feeling of claustrophobia because of large furniture in a small place, you will see four doors and an office area.

The kitchen, while quaint, is swirling with the aroma from last night's casserole. Undecorated except for the apple curtains hanging over the very small window, it seems larger than any other room. As your eyes scan the room, you would see that the counters are bare, except for dishes drying on the rack and the outdated, lime green toaster that my cousin gave us as a wedding gift. The large table pushed up against the only wall with four chairs blocks the door leading to the water heater. As you turn to the right, you will run into the master bedroom.

If you're not careful you will run into the ten year old oak dresser that I had growing up. On top of the dresser sits the perfumes and colognes that we use on a daily basis. A Hawaiian like comforter and a mound of soft pillows in all shapes and sizes over lay the queen size bed in the middle of the room, smelling like fresh laundry. Miss matched bed side tables with alarm clocks flank the bed. As you turn back around, with minimal space, you will see the door to the bathroom and the closet. On the door hangs a freshly pressed uniform.

On the bathroom counter sits a curling iron and hair dryer and the toothpaste and tooth brushes are in a pink holder. This holder matches the baby pink rugs, shower curtain and towels. The towels are hard and feel as if they were hung outside to dry. The closet is rather large looking on the outside, until you open it. My wife's clothing takes up three quarters of the space (and there is obviously no room for my shoes).

Walking back through the kitchen and into the office area, we pass the second bedroom, which is a mirror image of master bedroom, only filled with unpacked boxes of miscellaneous stuff. My workstation is rather large and awkward in shape. The desktop is fairly organized, consisting of a pencil holder, desk calendar, and assorted textbooks. The calendar is full of important test dates, deadlines, and of course, the rare days off from school. A monitor sits in the middle of the desk with software and compact disks above. Alongside my desk is a computer, without which I could not survive. The slightly outdated, yet fully competent Pentium II aids with school, work, and, nearly every other activity I participate in. The Pentium also has a modem, connecting me to the global community linked through the Internet. As you sit down in my overly stuffed chair, with a few loose springs, you will see the one and only picture on the desk. A picture of my wife and me on a camping trip that we took with our family a few months ago reminds me of the great time we had. Two items that are the most important however, is the small dish of candy that keeps me going through rough assignments, and the radio, though, music flows from its speakers and washes over my ears that helps me keep the pace and work through long hours.

Upon leaving my house you will notice that it is a typical newly married couple's house. But in many ways, my house has become an extension of my personality, interests and values. It is always filled with sounds of laughter, joyous times, and the sweet smells of last night's dinners and the pomegranate candle. Thank you for visiting!