I know, it’s a little too soon for another feature, but i’ve been getting some good ones lately, and i don’t have anything else to write about anyway.
“five letter salutation starting with s”
First person to think of one gets an e-award. I’m ruling out “salut” and any other non-English salutations.
“types of salutation used in resort”
Not sure if this person meant “resort” or “retort,” but if he/she did mean “resort,” i find it humorous. This is actually a good idea for a post: “A list of salutations to be used only as a last resort. Use with discretion.”
“showing nostrils woman”
Aww man, look at that sexy lady showing her unmentionables…!
Um…i just don’t understand what this person is looking for.
“a can yogurt”
Canned yogurt? Wow. Why didn’t i think of that? That’s a million dollar idea right there.
“eyeglass frames that look like toilet bowls”
Anyone who’s lived for a significant period of time in NYC has a mouse story. I have three, but let me tell you about my most recent (and triumphant!) encounter:
I was woken up at 2am by rustling noises, covered in sweat (probably from the Nyquil i took before bed). Immediately, i thought it was the mouse that i’d been hearing at nights, so i braced myself, stood on my bed, stepped onto the top of my drawers (to avoid stepping on the floor and getting bitten by the mouse in case it scurried across it) and turned my lamp on. Then i sat back on the bed and kept my eyes peeled. After a few moments, i saw it: it was in the garbage bag hanging from my radiator. It came up to the top of the garbage for a split second and plunged back down. My heart skipped a beat and i started sweating even more, so i hastily put my hair up. But honestly, i was so scared that i’d forgotten if the mouse was still in the bag or if it had leapt out and gone into my tote bag, which was hanging in front of the garbage bag, from the same hook on the radiator. And when i realized the possibility of it being somewhere other than the garbage bag, i leapt into the corner chair and just stood there helplessly for about a minute. Then i thought, “This is ridiculous,” so i sat back on the bed, but as far away as possible from the radiator. And then i noticed a piece of easter grass on the bed where my back would be, and i started having a panic attack, cos i thought maybe the mouse trailed it up there from the floor and it had actually been in my bed and crawling all over me while i was passed out from the Nyquil and maybe that was the real reason i woke up and maybe the struggle with the mouse was what had made me sweat! I knew it was possible because if that mouse could climb into my garbage bag, it could have climbed ANYWHERE. That meant any surface or object in my room could have been contaminated! Then i shook off these bad thoughts and tried to focus on the situation at hand. I tried to think back to when i saw the mouse and came to a pretty firm conclusion that it was still in the garbage bag. I had several options:
Today, i got the closure i needed. I was hurt a year and half ago and brutally reminded of that hurt two weeks ago, which made forgiving very difficult. But i’ve come to realize that it’s not forgiveness that matters—it’s the memories. Sure, he’s made mistakes, but somehow, my memories of what he and i shared remain untainted. I recognize the good in him, and i remember the love we shared, and that’s all i need. It’s unfortunate that it had to end this way, but that doesn’t diminish the power of what we had, and it doesn’t weaken the love we still have for each other, and forever will.
Today, we vowed to never forget each other. And that’s enough.
I was feeling down tonight, still suffering from this and grey weather, so on the way back from a 10pm Trader Joe’s run, i had a cigarette in front of my building, holding a bag of strawberries that i hoped would cheer me up.
I didn’t expect the scenery above: the sky was a dark indigo with a tinge of green, and the grey clouds wrapped the nearly full moon—a perfectly white moon, just the way i like it. As the smoke from my mouth tangled with the air, fading into the clouds, the street lamps soaked the white-bloomed tree in amber, and i was happy for a moment.
Maybe a full moon will be waiting for me tomorrow night.