Several years ago, I was listening to Jeff Foxworthy and went into hysterics as he described his first apartment. He told of his leftover couch acquired by someone's abandonment, lawn chairs for seating, flipped over boxes as dressers, a pallet of blankets on the floor to sleep on, a giant spool for a coffee table, and in his case, a lava lamp and in mine a flashing warning light with no off-switch. It was acquired on a late-night lark through the city that sat on our table as a centerpiece and blinked nonstop for 6 months before the battery finally gave out.
   I had all of that and more at my first apartment. It wasn't just the things we had but the people we encountered that shared our complex with us. It was a very diverse group, all there with one common thread, a n...

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