Rose has always had these weird premonitions of me falling down. And by always, I mean she's had them twice. Once, back in college, after all of us had been drinking college punch and burning incense, we came the the conclusion that we NEEDED pie. Right then and there. As we walked to the grocery store Rose kept saying things along the line of "Be careful Hales! I feel like you're going to fall, or something!" (to be fair, though, she also was really worried about us 'catching a chill' in that cold July air and insisted we huddled under the street lamp for warmth. So, maybe her worries were a little unfounded?). Later in the grocery store I drunkenly jumped onto my boyfriend's back, laughing hysterically and tickling him, causing him to drop me. Rose then proclaimed, with all the smug certainty in the world: "I knew it! I just knew you were going to fall!".
Rose had her second Hales falling! premonition a few weeks ago after I insisted on setting my already really unstable bed frame, box spring, and mattress up on risers. Really, this wasn't a premonition so much as pure common sense, but I wanted a tall bed, damnit! When you live in the teensiest of apartments under the bed is prime time storage space you guys!
Last night as I crawled into said tall bed after several Easter mimosas, it totally collapsed. Completely. It was sort of a fitting end to a week which had involved crazy mean Ex rantings and a trip to the ER for stitches. When my little brother came over later to help me salvage it, he found me sitting in the corner of the teensiest bedroom with all of my other furniture pushed into the teensiest kitchen where my mattress and box spring were precariously perched {sidenote: brothers are the absolute best. Especially mine.}.
Upon getting the text letting her know that she was right and my bed had finally collapsed, Rose responded:
"Well, were you at least having sex when it happened?!"
I guess it's the most legitimate question that could really be asked after such an occurrence.
Showing posts with label teeniest of apartments. Show all posts
Showing posts with label teeniest of apartments. Show all posts
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
pure love
When you're poor and you live in what you continually try to convince people is the smallest apartment in your city (I swear you guys, it is. I mean have you ever been here? Really.) payday is the best kinda day.
That day is today and since I've lived with only my sweet little ol' self for over a month and have yet to go grocery shopping (except the occasional trip to the Mexican market for Rambo, but that's a story for another day) I decided to take my newly earned straight cash monies over to the new Sunflower Market.
Dudes, that place is BOMB.
If anyone wants to come over for some delishyness involving the redic amount of organic quinoa and fresh veggies I just bought I'm fairly certain I have enough to stave off starvation of a third world country for a few days. Since I live in the smallest apartment in this city though, you'll be eating quinoa in my bed. Also, a lady who worked there told me how amazing my hair, outfit, and homemade headband were and wished me a "Happy Earthday!" with a free sample of organic laundry detergent, which I'll never use (I like my laundry to smell like vanilla and lavender and if that hurts the environment then so be it, shoot me) but STILL.
You should all go there.
That day is today and since I've lived with only my sweet little ol' self for over a month and have yet to go grocery shopping (except the occasional trip to the Mexican market for Rambo, but that's a story for another day) I decided to take my newly earned straight cash monies over to the new Sunflower Market.
Dudes, that place is BOMB.
If anyone wants to come over for some delishyness involving the redic amount of organic quinoa and fresh veggies I just bought I'm fairly certain I have enough to stave off starvation of a third world country for a few days. Since I live in the smallest apartment in this city though, you'll be eating quinoa in my bed. Also, a lady who worked there told me how amazing my hair, outfit, and homemade headband were and wished me a "Happy Earthday!" with a free sample of organic laundry detergent, which I'll never use (I like my laundry to smell like vanilla and lavender and if that hurts the environment then so be it, shoot me) but STILL.
You should all go there.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
this guy
Here's a story about my favorite cinnamon love, Rambo.
The day I brought this sweet chunk o' love home from the pound (he was livin on the mean city streets can you even comprehend?) he walked right on in the front door of our townhome, wagged his little bum and began to run through every room, sniffing everything along the way until he was satisfied, at which point he sat down with a sigh and looked at me as if to say "This is great. I love it here!". There was no 'adjustment period'...he fell in love with us instantly and completely as doggies tend to do.
The first night with us he tested the waters and sniffed and whined around the bed. Well let me tell you sir, we put a stop to that right quick.We were certainly not dog-in-the-bed people. Fast forward a few months to a painfully unhappy situation which found me crying and heartsick in the guest room. That dog...I swear that dog saw his opportunity and boy did he snag it. Up onto the guest bed he hopped, licked my tears off my face and promptly plopped down and passed out in a small corner of the bed.
It's been an uphill battle since then. I'm losing. I thought I gained some ground a few weeks ago in the new apartment when he spent two (forced) nights on his amazingly wonderful (seriously it has like...four blankets) dog bed. Nope. Because do you know where that doggie of ours now squishes his sleepy self when he stays at my apartment? Right next to me. Stretched out as happy as could be with his very own half of a queen bed.
You know...where someone else would be sleeping, if I weren't single as ever.
I maintain he knew exactly what he was doing since day one.
The day I brought this sweet chunk o' love home from the pound (he was livin on the mean city streets can you even comprehend?) he walked right on in the front door of our townhome, wagged his little bum and began to run through every room, sniffing everything along the way until he was satisfied, at which point he sat down with a sigh and looked at me as if to say "This is great. I love it here!". There was no 'adjustment period'...he fell in love with us instantly and completely as doggies tend to do.
The first night with us he tested the waters and sniffed and whined around the bed. Well let me tell you sir, we put a stop to that right quick.We were certainly not dog-in-the-bed people. Fast forward a few months to a painfully unhappy situation which found me crying and heartsick in the guest room. That dog...I swear that dog saw his opportunity and boy did he snag it. Up onto the guest bed he hopped, licked my tears off my face and promptly plopped down and passed out in a small corner of the bed.
It's been an uphill battle since then. I'm losing. I thought I gained some ground a few weeks ago in the new apartment when he spent two (forced) nights on his amazingly wonderful (seriously it has like...four blankets) dog bed. Nope. Because do you know where that doggie of ours now squishes his sleepy self when he stays at my apartment? Right next to me. Stretched out as happy as could be with his very own half of a queen bed.
You know...where someone else would be sleeping, if I weren't single as ever.
I maintain he knew exactly what he was doing since day one.
in defense of the little things
Sometimes.
When you live alone in the smallest apartment ever and you continually find yourself tripping over homeless shoes and searching for your jewelry and question straightening your hair because your bathroom is so small and the lighting makes you slightly hate your face you may wonder what happened to my life and how did I end up here?
Those times. Oh, those times. It gets hard to 'keep your chin up' and you may just want to cry because you are lonely and alone and there is no one to say how pretty you are and your bed just feels painfully empty like it is quite possibly the biggest, coldest bed in the world.
Those are the times that I feel like maybe I just shifted into reverse and kept speeding backwards and I maybe made a big mistake? Did I add years to my five year plan for all the wrong reasons? And I sort of just feel like asking the world, "World, would it be perfectly acceptable to you if I just crawled into bed and slept and dreamt and then woke up and felt amazingly better and sort of not like crying at completely random inopportune times? Those are the times when my big dreams feel slightly not-so-possible. When I don't have his eyes to mirror back my hopes and dreams to me they sort of seem silly and like they will always be imagined and never be real. And let me tell you...when I start to feel like that it is a mean, ugly feeling and I do not like it one bit no I do NOT.
There are the little things though. A snugly squish of an eighty pound dog that loves to lick my chin when I can't quite keep it up because (I swear it) he knows when I am so, so sad. There are hammock naps in the sunshine and shopping dates with my favorite loves. There are runs through my new neighborhood which if I make my eyes all squinty-like sorta reminds me of Portland...and Portland has a big piece of my heart. There are three endless months of sunshine coming my way oh-so-soon and even though I know it's bad for me I love my bronzed skin after a long, warm day. There are sundresses and strappy sandals and spinach salads to look forward to.
Maybe right now...the now where I wonder if I made a big mistake or a choice for myself that will ultimately be what I needed more than anything, maybe this now is telling me to take a deep breath, enjoy the little things as they come, and just smile.
When you live alone in the smallest apartment ever and you continually find yourself tripping over homeless shoes and searching for your jewelry and question straightening your hair because your bathroom is so small and the lighting makes you slightly hate your face you may wonder what happened to my life and how did I end up here?
Those times. Oh, those times. It gets hard to 'keep your chin up' and you may just want to cry because you are lonely and alone and there is no one to say how pretty you are and your bed just feels painfully empty like it is quite possibly the biggest, coldest bed in the world.
Those are the times that I feel like maybe I just shifted into reverse and kept speeding backwards and I maybe made a big mistake? Did I add years to my five year plan for all the wrong reasons? And I sort of just feel like asking the world, "World, would it be perfectly acceptable to you if I just crawled into bed and slept and dreamt and then woke up and felt amazingly better and sort of not like crying at completely random inopportune times? Those are the times when my big dreams feel slightly not-so-possible. When I don't have his eyes to mirror back my hopes and dreams to me they sort of seem silly and like they will always be imagined and never be real. And let me tell you...when I start to feel like that it is a mean, ugly feeling and I do not like it one bit no I do NOT.
There are the little things though. A snugly squish of an eighty pound dog that loves to lick my chin when I can't quite keep it up because (I swear it) he knows when I am so, so sad. There are hammock naps in the sunshine and shopping dates with my favorite loves. There are runs through my new neighborhood which if I make my eyes all squinty-like sorta reminds me of Portland...and Portland has a big piece of my heart. There are three endless months of sunshine coming my way oh-so-soon and even though I know it's bad for me I love my bronzed skin after a long, warm day. There are sundresses and strappy sandals and spinach salads to look forward to.
Maybe right now...the now where I wonder if I made a big mistake or a choice for myself that will ultimately be what I needed more than anything, maybe this now is telling me to take a deep breath, enjoy the little things as they come, and just smile.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Conversations with myself, among other things
Did I eat macaroni and cheese in bed yesterday for breakfast whilst watching my new secret shameful love, ABC Family's Greek? NO {insert squinty eyes looking to the left that may or may not indicate lying here} That would be so gross and lame. Incidentally, why is there a show about life in the Greek System on ABC FAMILY? I'm trying to remember which of my collegiate sorority activities would be suitable for a network with the word family in the title and I find myself...coming up with...um, nothing? Though I did hang out quite a bit with one particular family during football season...they had one of the most popular tailgates and their ten year old boys would make us all martinis.
How many diet cokes did I drink last week? And how many had vodka in them in true post-breakup Hales fashion? No one KNOWS...bahahaha.
Do I sometimes drink beer AND watch TV while studying? But maybe it's REALLY OKAY LIKE I'VE BEEN SAYING FOR MONTHS and now I don't have to say it to ANYONE anymore because there is no one judging me with sideways glances and questions about test scores (which, B to the W, are excellent. So suck that down).
If I were, say, a neurotic and emotional cleaner, I could perhaps get up at 2 AM to obsessively scrub, sweep, and re-organize the teeniest abode without having to worry about waking anyone up but the dog, and that dude sleeps like..all day, so I don't even feel bad.
How many diet cokes did I drink last week? And how many had vodka in them in true post-breakup Hales fashion? No one KNOWS...bahahaha.
Do I sometimes drink beer AND watch TV while studying? But maybe it's REALLY OKAY LIKE I'VE BEEN SAYING FOR MONTHS and now I don't have to say it to ANYONE anymore because there is no one judging me with sideways glances and questions about test scores (which, B to the W, are excellent. So suck that down).
If I were, say, a neurotic and emotional cleaner, I could perhaps get up at 2 AM to obsessively scrub, sweep, and re-organize the teeniest abode without having to worry about waking anyone up but the dog, and that dude sleeps like..all day, so I don't even feel bad.
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