Like most early twenty-somethings, the urge to flee the nest increasingly starts to set in. Once you've been working a job for awhile, saving up your own money, you start to fantasize about what it's like to buy a couch, have your own remote controls, and the splendid beauty of a refrigerator just for you. Also, stuff like having to tiptoe in late at night just isn't fun anymore. I never had a tree or rose trellis to climb up into my room (not that I ever snuck out - I really never did), so you had to hoof it past Mom's Lair on the squeaky floorboards. Though I was quite adept at the Stealth Parking game, it's much better to be able to come and go as you please.