A Small Thought

I read the "Missed Connections" on craigslist in an effort to remind myself that romance, by way of complete happenstance, is still a possibility.

Then I click over to "Miscellaneous Romance" to remind myself that there are so many goddamn freaks out there, I don't want to talk to anyone I don't already know, let alone date them.

I'll pass on that breast massage, sir. Thanks anyway.

odds and ends

Thanks to that nifty SiteMeter at the bottom of this page, I can stalk those who choose to waste their life reading this thing. I saw that someone from Tennessee was recently reading my insightful and well-crafted thoughts. I don't have any friends in Tennessee, so I looked to see who this young chap was. Turns out they found my blog by Google searching the phrase "I had a gigantic wedgie." Needless to say, I am pretty proud of myself.

I am finally settled in my new apartment...minus the bags and boxes of crap I am just too damn lazy to unpack. I am sure I will get to it eventually. Maybe. The place itself is decent, albeit a far cry from the lap of luxury. I have a nice kitchen, for all of the cooking I don't do. I also have some fun roommates, one of whom caught me standing half-naked (read: all-naked) in front of the a/c yesterday. He looked a little scared, which made me laugh. I feel like I should have warned them about my nudist habits when I moved in. That would have totally killed the surprise, though, inevitably killing my joy.

I think I am going to go introduce myself to the people that live above me at some point. That way, I can ask them why they feel the need to rearrange their furniture at 6 a.m. EVERY GODDAMN DAY. Also, I don't think pets are allowed in this building. That elephant stomping around up there needs to go. Oh, that's your girlfriend? Sad. She still needs to leave. Well...bye.

It's free, but...

There is always a catch.

I need a place to live. I see a craigslist post offering free room in a sweet apartment for a girl. The catch? I would have to rub moisturizer on the owner of the place after he lays out in the sun all day. I would be lying if I said I didn't respond to the ad. When staring poverty in the face, one considers extreme measures in order to ensure survival. I eventually decided against the idea (of course), but that idea of free rent is still so tempting.

I need to exercise. I go to the lovely free yoga studio near me for some relaxation and movement. It is packed, and I am stuffed in a corner next to a woman whose physical build reminds me of a ball of dough, with a leotard acting as the saran wrap keeping it all together. She laughs a lot, as I, Bi-polar Betty, sob hysterically. Then she coughs in my mouth. She is obviously a smoker, because my mouth suddenly tastes of nicotine. I gag in between sobs (it's been a long week). Free yoga? Awesome. Fat chick coughing smoker filth IN MY MOUTH? Hardly awesome.

I need to eat. I go meet a friend for $3 margs, and eat the chips and salsa they bring to the table as dinner. Cheapest dinner ever (free!). I wake up this morning to stomach cramps, and have been in and out of the bathroom all morning. I think the salsa was made by Ex-Lax.

Choose your free carefully.