But that won't curb my blogging, Cupcake Lovers! So I'll start with the inevitable question: Who helped with the aforementioned mattress? Who got up at the wee hour of 11 a.m. to snag me some discount twine and make sure I stayed below 55 mph? (Me: Omg! I forgot! There's a mattress tied to the roof!) Who risked his life letting me, the most timid driver ever, navigate various highways? Why, The Well-Intentioned Ex-Boyfriend, of course. Who must be given a new title at this point since we're approaching a ridiculous level of Are We or Aren't We. I'm tempted to put it to a WMWC poll, but since you all don't seem to enjoy commenting (you're more the sneaky, stalkerish type... like me) here are some ideas:
Possible New Titles for The Well-Intentioned Ex-Boyfriend (Formerly The Boyfriend)
1. You Know You're My Boyfriend So Stop Avoiding It
2. The Ex-Boyfriend Minus the Ex
3. The Confused, Reluctant, Sort-Of Boyfriend
4. The Newly Instated (But Not Officially) Boyfriend
5. My Male Friend Who I Sometimes Like and Sometimes Want to Kick. Hard.
6. The Boyfriend*
I don't know, I can't make any decisions right now. I'm going to give it some time and possibly go for the Roger Maris-esque asterisk since the original title of The Boyfriend has been marred. Either way, things with That Guy are fine and what happens will happen. Regardless, he's been nagging me to blog (Him: You haven't posted since May 9th! Me: I didn't even know that!) so I figure I have at least one fan. And at least he likes the Internet version of me. Sigh.
But that's enough about that. Here's the more important part of this post: My. Life. Is. Awesome. My apartment is fantastic, my bed is huge, my backyard is a dream. The other night I laid out on the grass with That Guy, my roommate, and her dad while we drank beers by the light of some lanterns I grabbed at Ikea. My roommate's dad told us stories from back in the day that involved LSD, road trips, and a whole lotta hitchhiking as the four of us tried to spot stars. Besides the fact that it wasn't quite summery and warm, it was a beautiful evening. And all I kept muttering was "How did my life get so good?"
It's true though. Even though everything isn't necessarily perfect, I am so lucky to have this place to live and call my own. And I'm determined for it to be kick ass. I painted my room alone. It took me like 12 hours of straight work and precarious ladder-standing, wondering if I would fall and no one would be around to hear my cries of "I've fallen and I can't get up!" But my walls are now "Morning Sunshine" yellow (two full coats!) and I feel like a NOW-joining, womyn-writing, Ms. Magazine-reading independent woman.
Yes we can, Rosie.
Along the same lines, I guess you could say that my current mood is Empowered. My roommate and I found this apartment on our own, we've basically furnished it and made it the Brooklyn Nook together, and now I'm really living life in a Grown-Up Apartment with a Grown-Up Job and Grown-Up Friends. I would even venture to say that I'm making the transition into full blown adulthood both smoothly and gracefully. And it feels good.
I know this post isn't necessarily up to par, but I just wanted to say to you who read this that I'm here, I'm constantly brainstorming about what to put on here, and I've now committed myself to being a Blogger. Example? When I interviewed to be rehired at Anthropologie (the store, not a misspelled version of the science) they asked me what I liked to do in my spare time.
My answer? "Well, I'm really into blogging, and I like to explore the city?"
Ha. Who am I? When did I become this cool, New York City person? I think I like it.
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