Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Someone please wash the dishes

Working on my lit anal paper late at night produced thoughtfulness (although any homework assignment has the potential to inspire totally unrelated thoughts). Alban, who is sitting here screwing up his physics homework, asked me if I felt guilty about having the friends I do.

No, I don't. I used to feel guilty sitting with my friends in the cafe or cloistering myself away to play effing hail with Alban and Alex. But then, I remembered sitting by myself in the cafe at Evergreen and watching movies in my empty apartment in Olympia. I've been to the valley and I am not about to repent for standing on the mountain top. When I think about the people I hang out with, and especially those I live with, I am overcome with an intense joy. Maybe it's gloating, but I would rather be with the people I am always with than with any other group of people on the planet.

We can't seem to stay on top of the dirty dishes. Oh, and someone keeps getting food spots on the dish rags.


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  2. The closet has always scared us. As children the fear of face chomping monsters coming to life under our hangers ruthlessly stole from us hours of what could have been innocent body-healing memory-sealing sleep. Even today some fear what hides in the closet, or at least, what comes out of it. But I say fear has held its marker to our backs for too long! This blog is the beginning of what will no doubt be a long and arduous flip-off war with a cruel and crippling psychological weapon that has kept us under the covers far too long.

    "I have a phobia of that."