|The Storm Before The Calm
||[Mar. 6th, 2005|01:57 pm]
The Insensitive MC
Baby’s first apartment? Set-up and clean. Walls painted, pictures hung, books, cd’s, and dvd’s alphabetically arranged. Near perfection. Well… Save for a chaotic pile of my soon to be organizized sweaters, t-shirts, and blousy things. Funny how I’m so particular about structuring the spices in descending order according to size, yet I only finally decide to hang up and fold my entire wardrobe when I intercept an “Uh, honey? The clothes? Need to be hung up now” from the ever-patient beau.
And I ate Fruity Pebbles for breakfast this morning. My literal first taste of slummin’ it.
But the place looks terrif. It really, really does. And it feels terrif. And I’m Cheshire lately because of it. The first night there I cried in bed. Never an attractive state. Rolled over and bawled because I realized that I’m no longer in an engines revving state, but in a “and we’re off!” one. Anxiety never arrives casually. But a few days later, as I filled up the clawfoot with a generous amount of Mr. Bubbles [SLUMMIN’ it], lit a fruity Yankee candle, and blasted some Otis. Man. That was it. I have arrived. The strain down the fucking drain, ya’ll. I bought a bottle of cabernet last night. Hell, I bought 2. Homegirl at the counter and I bantered about trash tv. About how we love to drink a few glasses of wine, kick back on a comfy couch, and watch us some reality bullshit. Yeah, new job on the near horizon. Yeah, the relationship intensity has risen dramatically due to cohabitation. Yeah the weathers getting warmer, the days are getting longer, but let’s face it. This is what I look forward to:
Mondays: Real World/Road Rules Challenge Inferno II - 10pm
Tuesdays: Amazing Race - 9pm
Wednesdays: Movie Night, Tuesday new releases
Thursdays: The Apprentice
The old stand-by’s. A glass of wine. Good company. Trashy programming. A totally cozy chair. And a pantry full of descending spices. Here’s to a new year, with as much serene comfort as possible.