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27 August 2007 : what it is.
things are starting to look upwards here. last night was almost like...a night lived by a non-invalid.
last night, i managed to be upright long enough to pick up the piles of crap scattered around my apartment and do three entire loads of laundry. there are still the dishes. however, when i moved into this apartment i unpacked only half of what i own, thus sparing myself repeats of the monumental two-hour dishpiles of yore.
then, a couple of boys stopped by to bring me movies, perform spider removal, relieve me of my forbidden beers, and offer me a few minutes of much needed company.
then, i signed onto match.com for the first time in about two years. the story on match.com is this: shari went through a phase where one of her main goals in life was to find me someone to love, so she signed me up (and told me about it later). i worked with it reluctantly for a few weeks, met one guy for coffee (who i saw again recently, on a date with a tall, heels and dress kind of girl, a butterfly neck tattoo kind of girl, and realized that we never would have made it - though i looked pretty awesome in my neon orange tshirt and jeans, with my crusty scabby gravestone tattoo on my forearm), and never looked at it again.
what was new about last night was that after all that cleaning and laundry-doing, i realized that my favorite bra, lost for several weeks now, was no longer likely to just pop up at random and no longer be lost. i have been sincerely upset over this loss for a number of reasons, including the fit, newness, and inappropriately high price tag of said piece of lingerie. but i've accepted that it's just not going to reappear, and i'm going to have to wait for my student loans, pony up for another and deal.
match.com comes in when i realized that i don't even have the comfort of the remotest possibility that i'll get it back because i left it in my boyfriend's car.
posted by lindsay at 13:20 ::
things are starting to look upwards here. last night was almost like...a night lived by a non-invalid.
last night, i managed to be upright long enough to pick up the piles of crap scattered around my apartment and do three entire loads of laundry. there are still the dishes. however, when i moved into this apartment i unpacked only half of what i own, thus sparing myself repeats of the monumental two-hour dishpiles of yore.
then, a couple of boys stopped by to bring me movies, perform spider removal, relieve me of my forbidden beers, and offer me a few minutes of much needed company.
then, i signed onto match.com for the first time in about two years. the story on match.com is this: shari went through a phase where one of her main goals in life was to find me someone to love, so she signed me up (and told me about it later). i worked with it reluctantly for a few weeks, met one guy for coffee (who i saw again recently, on a date with a tall, heels and dress kind of girl, a butterfly neck tattoo kind of girl, and realized that we never would have made it - though i looked pretty awesome in my neon orange tshirt and jeans, with my crusty scabby gravestone tattoo on my forearm), and never looked at it again.
what was new about last night was that after all that cleaning and laundry-doing, i realized that my favorite bra, lost for several weeks now, was no longer likely to just pop up at random and no longer be lost. i have been sincerely upset over this loss for a number of reasons, including the fit, newness, and inappropriately high price tag of said piece of lingerie. but i've accepted that it's just not going to reappear, and i'm going to have to wait for my student loans, pony up for another and deal.
match.com comes in when i realized that i don't even have the comfort of the remotest possibility that i'll get it back because i left it in my boyfriend's car.
Labels: life in the bluegrass
posted by lindsay at 13:20 ::
4 Comments:
There are so many tiny delights in this entry I cannot pick just one.
By 
John Barleycorn, at
1:32 PM
you're a peach, mr. barleycorn.
That reminds me, I need to clean out my car...
By Frank Charlemagne, at
12:11 AM
see entry above, re: my response to some comment you've made.