I never save the extra buttons I get with new clothes. And I never lose buttons. That's probably because I know how to sew buttons back on -- buttons come off of clothes whose owners don't needle & thread, out of spite.
I love to collect household hints and tips; if you ever need to know how amazing white distilled vinegar and baking soda is, just ask.
When people say, "I love you, but ______," and fill in the blank with something that has nothing to do with loving you, but actually has something to do with what they don't like about you, I get very, very irritated. I started noticing this when someone I knew would preface it before everything she said when she wanted to say something that wasn't very nice - in fact they were downright nasty things. Saying you love someone and following it with an exception isn't really love at all. It's manipulating language for the sake of always being the good girl or guy.
I have known my boyfriend for eight years; is that possible? He'll say, "no way!" I'll say, "yes way!" We'll count the months slowly and out loud, and then he'll say, "wow, I've known you for eight years?"
Now that I've lived in the South for three years, I know for sure that I don't identify with so-called "Northerners." That's probably because I'm a transplant from the Pacific NW. My north is not New York, Pennsylvania, Connecticut, Maryland, or even Massachusetts. Even folks from the Midwest say they "come from up North" when they're living in Florida. But I can't identify with them either (oh, those aaaaaaaaaaaccents, help me!). My North is Oregon, Washington, Montana, California: big trees, relaxing, and respecting. Some might say over-respecting.
When I was living on next to nothing and doing volunteer-work for two straight years, my two biggest luxuries were postage stamps and magazines. I love magazines! Ever since July 1996, I have been hopelessly addicted to Vogue and Harper's Bazaar. I guess not so much lately - I miss supermodels. Wow, did you ever think a poor volunteer would be able to enjoy a Vogue? Dare to dream.
I worked in retail for seven years - through my college years, and moonlighting while I was that volunteer girl. That retail job, kept with the same company but in different locations, has so far been the best and worst job of my life.
There you have it - some bits and pieces of the motif.
3 comments:
Stop all of this spamming, godspammit!
I should be thrilled with the comments - too bad they're all phony. I wish it was illegal to spam!
Ok, so you're probably only going to see this if you have comments emailed. Not sure if it tells you what post I'm replying to, so fyi, it's "Cleaning up a room." August 17, 2005 (and all others before it.)
1) You have gotten me addicted to reading your blog cover to cover. Damn it, I need to get some work done! But thanks for the entertainment. :)
2) Please tell me you've figured out that south Florida isn't part of the South. I personally think the South starts somewhere around Port St. Lucie and extends up to Virginia. And calling it the "deep south"... sigh. You can't find sweet tea in West Palm. Or chicken and dumplings. There's no Bojangles. No one says "ya'll." There's fake boobies and dark tans, instead of omnipresent highlights and pearls worn with everything.
Maybe I should make this a post in my own blog... after exams. If I remember.
I almost started with "I love your blog, but," but I'm really not trying to be manipulative and catty... Just defending my hometown!
Jeez this has gotten too long. At least it isn't spam, right?
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