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Wednesday, December 29, 2004

We've Come to An End

2004 is almost over, and a lot of things are coming to an end. This website included. It was there when I needed it, but this is where it needs to stop.

The world doesn't need another site of single girl missives. That's right. I am now a single girl.

Besides, this was a website about growing up, and being a single girl is sort of like regressing. But I can live with that.

Monday, December 20, 2004

Subway Observation #6

Nobody flinches when a guy pulls out a switchblade on an uptown number 2 train. The guy holds the knife open, rotating it, admiring it. It's thick and long, like a steak knife. People consciously don't look at him. I stand with my back mostly to him, watching his reflection in the subway car window. I breathe a sigh of relief when I get off at the next stop, and he doesn't.

The incident reminds me of a house party the boyfriend and I once went to in Ithaca. While the boyfriend is outside almost getting arrested for setting off firecrackers, I am inside with a homeless man. When the homeless man hears there are cops around, he pulls out a knife. The partygoers think this is hysterical. When the boyfriend reappears, I started whispering to him that we had to leave now. Now.

Two years later, I hear the boyfriend's friend Justin does a hell of an impression of my reaction. Even the boyfriend still thinks it's funny.

Sure.

Sunday, December 19, 2004

Happy Three Years!

My boyfriend and I celebrated three years together today. We almost didn't make it this far -- and (as the fight drags on) we might not make it much further. But I think the two of us -- as unlikely as we were -- really made an incredible team.

After all, who else encourages me to be creative? Who else finds the humor in a website, where he more often than not comes across like a jerk? Who else hangs my "artwork" on his fridge with magnets? Who else tells me I look like an elf in my winter cap? Who else would install my air conditioner? Twice? Who else likes it when I sing silly songs? Who else appreciates a good "I love you THIS much?" Who else lets me take him shopping for clothes I like? Who else would beat up a student government member for making off-color comments? Who else chases Haddonfield bunnies? Who else makes yummy "small animal cocoa?"

And who taught me how to stand up for myself? How to be a hard-ass? How to laugh at myself? How to laugh at other people? How not to care what other people think? How to evade the law? How to drive drunk? How to fly kites?

So on our third anniversary, I just want to tell the boyfriend that it's been one hell of a ride ... no matter what happens. You'll always be special to me, G.

Wednesday, December 15, 2004

Keeping Secrets Secret

I've learned my lesson, and I can't talk about it.

Monday, December 13, 2004

Things I'm Glad About

I'm glad there's no heat in the apartment.
I'm glad it's finally getting cold.
I'm glad I'm fighting with my boyfriend.
I'm glad there's a hair salon opening in my building.
I'm glad that in order to take a vacation from work, I need to work twice as hard leading up to it.

I'm glad I have this blog ... so I can listen to myself complain ....

Saturday, December 11, 2004

(not) For All Mankind

I've heard the truism that a pair of 7 jeans can make any ass look hot. I've even seen some pretty amazing transformations with my own eyes. So while shopping at the Soho Bloomie's today, I decided to try on a couple of pairs. And I've come to this conclusion: my ass must be hopeless, because the magical jeans don't work for me.

But if I'm honest with myself, I know that Manhattan hardly needs another short brunette in a pair of 7 jeans.

So I bought myself a pretty nice consolation prize, which look great from behind, and went on my merry way.

Friday, December 10, 2004

That Kind of Day

Today has been that type of awful day when you find out that your landlord who lives downstairs is moving out, and a hair salon is moving in.

I need to save my pennies for my first Manhattan apartment ... four and a half more months! (Well, I can dream, can't I?)

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