i almost wish a helicopter would fall on the place. obviously, if i've not needed anything from that apartment for a yearish, i'm probably not ever going to need it. then, in the midst of the cleaning, throwing, piling, packing process i'll come across something like a cd with just the song "camel toe" on it, giggle, and put it in my "keep" pile. not to mention chuck has everything we need and in a better version. his stuff says: i'm an adult. my stuff says: YOU HAVE A FREE COUCH? FOR ME? AND IT'S HELD TOGETHER BY YELLOW TWINE? HOW CHARMING!
i can only hang out there for two hours before my pace slows and i find myself sitting in a storage closet wearing a shapeless dress i bought from the gap in 1998 and flipping through poloroids of baby toonses. or stuffing a mix tape into my tape player and wondering about the thought process that went into a mix containing the backstreet boys, mariah carey and then seguing into the foo fighters. i believe it was a schizophrenic running mix.
so i bring you part one of "things i've found in my apartment":
1. this lamp from pier one represents a short-lived princess phase that included pink curtains made from the same material as sexy sleepware, and some comparison shopping for one of those sheer mosquito nets to encase my pretty, sleeping, pea head. i imagined waking up, yawning, and emerging from my sleep chamber.
2. in early march, 2007, duluth had the kind of wicked snowstorm that can singlehandedly raise your car insurance rate. chuck left work early and skidded and 180'ed his way to an approximation of my apartment, ditched his car and showed up on my steps frazzled -- all wet pants and frozen faced. knowing he was going to need "something to take the edge off", i jumped in my car and raced to the liquor store, straddling snow drifts.
i bought this, which he savored over the course of the night. later we ran around outside and jumped off the railing into huge snow piles. but we never touched this wicked juice ever again. well, maybe we had a little here and there. 1/3 of it remained in my refrigerator.
3. i've moved many, many times in the past 10 years, and every move has resulted in removing the entirity of my magnetic poetry kit from the refrigerator. i believe it is almost unheard of to be an english major who graduated in the 1990s, and not have one of these poetry kits. i am a cliche ... further evidenced by:
4. my van gogh print. this is the quintessential piece for college graduates. it is the single woman's answer to a glowing bud light sign. it says: i want you to think that i like art and use big words. i think i'm going to leave this in my apartment, as i believe it is covering a hole in the plaster.
5. a few years ago, my friend lil latrell and i went to a timberwolves game at the target center. we bought jersies: her's was latrell sprewell, mine was wally szerbiak. we sprayed our hair green and everything, then parked it in the second to last row, where no one could hear us yawning. i'm not really into basketball, but i got a pair of green converse lowtops out of the deal.
6. i found this lock, and like magic, the number 11-17-35 came into my head. i tried the combination three times and it didn't work. then i remembered: oh yeah. that's my high school gym locker combination.
so i guess i remember that, in case i become lourdes' premiere long and triple jumper in the year 1994 ever again.
7. for many years, i thought the world was just blurry. finally i realized i needed glasses. then, taking a cue from pa pista, i bought prescription sunglasses. although, mine were tinted sir elton john pink.
8. i used to play kickball on some sunday mornings at grant elementary. usually i was a pretty hungover outfielder with a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of powerade in the other. fellow ballers daisy and baby blue and i decided one day that we really needed skateboards. the three of us went to play it again sports after a game and bought matching 40 dollar boards. i believe baby blue decorated his with a sassy sticker.
we spent one afternoon doing clumsy circles in a cul de sac, and never group skated again. two apartments ago, i would skate from my living room, through my dining room and into the kitchen and perfected some sort of kick turns. i never learned to do an ollie, despite a lot of online research.
9. now this just makes me sad. i hate terrible gifts. the more enthusiastic the gift-giver, the more embarrassing it is for the receiver. ma pista bought this for me, and a matching one for her self. a gaudy shoe-shaped cell phone holder. this is exactly the sort of thing i hate: space-taking knick knacks that make moves more difficult. stuff.
i almost cried as i threw it away.