Blogging Just Because I Can
Not much going on this week, so here’s a cross-sectional view of my life…
I made my way to the Caribou coffee on 14th street, commonly known as “The Cruise-ibou” for it’s ability to foster social relationships among the area’s gay men. No, I was not cruising…I was studying my Mandarin for the simple fact that I can’t study at home. It’s a weakness. Anyway, I was making great progress until I looked to my right and was terrified to see that a woman was wearing one of my shirts AS A BLOUSE. Now, you are asking yourself the same question I did…is it possible it just looked like the same shirt? Believe me, I know this shirt better than any other. I have yet to leave the house in it for one night and not get compliments and to how great I look in it. One friend actually described it as my “come and f&#k me” shirt. So now I have a dilemma: do I continue to wear the shirt in fear I’m going to run into some woman and end up horribly embarrassed, or do I give up on it and get myself a new shirt?
I have way too much bubble wrap. It’s one of those things you feel stupid holding on to, but the minute you throw it out, you’re going to need it again. The Styrofoam peanuts I could justify throwing into the trash because the possibility that the container they’re in will flip over causing them to fly all over my apartment is too great to bear. Yet, bubble wrap is universal, and I feel like I should be able to find a place for it.
I’ve decided to finally make an admission – I still like John Mayer. OK. There. I said it. I’m not ashamed.
I made my way to the Caribou coffee on 14th street, commonly known as “The Cruise-ibou” for it’s ability to foster social relationships among the area’s gay men. No, I was not cruising…I was studying my Mandarin for the simple fact that I can’t study at home. It’s a weakness. Anyway, I was making great progress until I looked to my right and was terrified to see that a woman was wearing one of my shirts AS A BLOUSE. Now, you are asking yourself the same question I did…is it possible it just looked like the same shirt? Believe me, I know this shirt better than any other. I have yet to leave the house in it for one night and not get compliments and to how great I look in it. One friend actually described it as my “come and f&#k me” shirt. So now I have a dilemma: do I continue to wear the shirt in fear I’m going to run into some woman and end up horribly embarrassed, or do I give up on it and get myself a new shirt?
I have way too much bubble wrap. It’s one of those things you feel stupid holding on to, but the minute you throw it out, you’re going to need it again. The Styrofoam peanuts I could justify throwing into the trash because the possibility that the container they’re in will flip over causing them to fly all over my apartment is too great to bear. Yet, bubble wrap is universal, and I feel like I should be able to find a place for it.
I’ve decided to finally make an admission – I still like John Mayer. OK. There. I said it. I’m not ashamed.
posted by Marty Stroodler at 10:58 PM
2 Comments:
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Keep the friggin' shirt. If anything, I always see those embarrassing instances as opportunities in disguise. Like, if I showed up to an event in the same dress as someone else. Its a chance for everyone to compare the two of you. Surely you're hotter.
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