Friday, December 16, 2011

Living with a Boy

I recently started texting certain friends with installments of what I like to call “Living with a Boy”, or in other words, snapshots of the moments of sheer speechlessness that are sometimes associated with living with a boy.

Example: “Living with a Boy Chapter 53: Entire house smells like mini tacos.”

Or, Example: “Living with a Boy Chapter 4: soaking his shoes in Coca Cola to remove bar floor gunk.”

Why do I preface my texts to friends with chapter names? Your question is beside the point.

Don’t get me wrong, JC is lovely, wonderful and pure preciousness. He’s also such… a boy.

Chapter 17:  Any opportunities to turn apartment into dorm building are seized. 

In a way I see where they are coming from here. College was a pretty rad time. And maybe making the place feel a little more frat house and a little less Pottery Barn helps the male psyche.

Do you guys remember in college how if you were unfortunate enough to leave your clothes in the dryer a millisecond too long, the freshman in line behind you would pull the old dry & dash on you? And you’d find a clump of your clothes on the nearest surface?

Welp, I came home from work yesterday to find my clothes from the dryer tossed haphazardly into a basket beside the dryer. JC was not home – a wise man. His message to me was received loud and clear, not dissimilar to those freshman girls from days past: You might think you run this joint, but think again.

Oh lessons.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Things that are True

This weekend, 12 close friends and I stayed in a cell phone receptionless cabin in the middle of the woods of Loganville, Wisconsin. Where is Loganville? I still have no idea. 

Our original intention was to chop down our own Christmas trees a la Christmas Vacation. But soon the focus shifted to family style meals, climbing rafters and rooms with bear mummies. 

Oh and not getting murdered in the woods. 

Amidst wooden framed photos of the bizarre strangers we were renting from was the wooden plaque above. 

I was suddenly so overwhelmed by the fact that JC & I are adults living in a huge city and have still managed to find a group of 10+ friends who feel more like family. I am the kind of person who, when struck by such thoughts, is not above blubbering like a baby in front of everyone. Sorrs.

Enjoy the little things 
for one day
you may look back
and realize
they were the big things. 

The second thing that is true is that vodka, despite its ability to disguise itself inside friendly, innocent red & green holiday jello, is not my friend. But that is neither here nor there.