Did you notice that today is March. Dude, even with a leap year, February just ripped on by. What craziness. What insanity. It's cool though, cause I'd say March is pretty rad too.
Did you ever notice how some things in life are worked out for you with out you even noticing that they HAD to be worked out? Okay, that sounds like I'm trying to be overly profound. If you must vomit over that, I'll hold your hair back; but let me finish:
It hit me this morning.
Drawers are basically created so an even number of Saran Wrap or aluminum foil cartons can fit in them. Even in retro kitchen land (unfortunately where our kitchen resides) the drawer seems to exactly fit all of the various wraps, foils, papers, etc. It's neither too tight a squeeze nor aching with awkward gappage. Someone somewhere just sort of worked that out for us. Without us even knowing it had to be worked out. To that person, Cheers!
Well, I have gone several weeks bypassing telling you of one of the greatest reunions in the past six months in my life. Me and my ipod dock are back together. I know, it's great, right? Sometime in late August of 07, we broke up. And it had me down for a while. I mean, the carcass of the actual dock was haunting me, every time I looked at my desk. But it was unchargable. I had lost the AC adapter. And I couldn't find it ANYWHERE. The speakers were just TAUNTING me. "Listen to zee ipod on zis dock, eh?" (Oh yeah, my speakers have an odd German/French/Canadian sort of thing going on , not a big deal.) And I was like, "Well, I would LIKE TO." Anyway, after months of searching through various random nooks and crannies, searching Amazon to Ebay, Logitech to apple.com, I finally broke down and just called the logitech customer service folks, hoping that in a moment of weakness, driven my my utter pity, they would just send me a free charger. Turns out there's a link on their website for missing parts. $10 was all that stood between me and destiny. A shame that I can't apparently read. Anyway, we are sitting at the table right now, me posting on this weblog, my ipod dock serenading me with overly depressing Coldplay. It's harmony and melody and destiny. And not in a trashy, born-in-the-80's, "My name is Harmony" kind of way.
I had thought that, now that I am either 23 or 24 (not sure) I would stop getting acne. Blemishes. Pimples, zits, you know the deal. Well, this is horrifyingly untrue. They have seemed to utterly ignore the fact that I am an adult now. I mean, I wear high heels to work, meet friends for sushi, have money going into my 401K. An adult. Sometimes, I get these blemishes (ok, that makes it sound more adult) that no amount of Katherine's secret Murad blemish zapper can solve. That no amount of cursing, "BUT I AM AN ADULT! THIS IS UNFAIR," can fix. That no amount of pressure with a hot wash cloth can cure. Like right now. Something worthy of a zip code is cropping up right under my nose. So painful that it's hard to smile.
Was that too honest?
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