AND GRADUATED!
I know I have been a bad, bad blog mistress. BAD! I probably deserve a spanking?
Wait, no. Crap. Now “spanking blogmistress” will be yet another way porn-seekers will find their way to my corner of The Internet.
In other news, I am back East with Mama and Papa. They are feeding me, and I am sleeping a lot, because I spent the last week sleeping on the floor for maybe a few hours. It is delightful.
However, I am not allowed to be a grownup. Mama! and I started the search for The Suit. The rite of womanhood in this day of the career woman. In our never-ending pit of Cheapness, we started the The Outlets. Our search was fruitless. Apparently, suits only come in size 4 and above, and the sizes are inflated. To say the least, the skirts fell off me, and the jackets made me look like I was playing dress-up in my mother’s work clothes.
I know, I know. To be so miserable. My tiara is too tight, and these fifties won’t fit in my pocket. Blah blah blah. I’m still cranky about it.
I’m going to go eat more of my mother’s delicious cherry pie, in hopes of being big enough to be a grownup soon.
I won’t talk about how I spent 8 hours waiting at the new apartment yesterday, waiting for the Comcast technician to install our cable and internet, and he didn’t show up until nearly 4 hours after the end of the 12pm-4pm appointment span, after 2 angry phone calls and 1 trip halfway back to Oakland. Because that would just raise my blood pressure.
I won’t talk about how I came about 3 inches from being hit by an SUV as I was crossing a street in Oakland two days ago, even though I was making eye contact with him, and he still didn’t slow down a bit, or even acknowledge that he came close to hitting me after I screamed at him. Because that woud also raise my blood pressure.
I won’t talk about how it took my absentee roommate 4 days to get me a carpet cleaner, when she promised to have it to me weeks ago. Again, because of the blood pressure.
I won’t talk about how I didn’t get what I needed to get done yesterday, because I was stuck in Dormont waiting for a Comcast technician.
I won’t talk about all the windows I’ve cleaned, corners I’ve dusted, and carpets I’ve vacuumed, only to feel like the apartment just keeps getting dirtier, because then you would know how analretentive I am.
I won’t talk about how we need to be out of the apartment by noon tomorrow, and it seems like we’ll never be done.
I won’t talk about how I’m feeling a little sad about leaving this apartment, the apartment I’ve spent 2 years in, half of my college years. It looks so empty and I’m going to miss it, even though I can’t wait to get out of Oakland.
I won’t talk about how I’m feeling a little apprehensive about leaving college, because I don’t feel like I’m educated or smart enough to call myself a college graduate.
I won’t talk about how I’m apprehensive about my graduation party, because my dad keeps threatening to introduce Bear to my relatives (most of whom have already met him) as “that guy you’re boinking”, because then you’ll know how desperately inappropriate my family tends to be.
Instead, I’ll just give you a fact of the day that I learned from the oh-so-reputable “Today Show”:
A single cow produces 90 lbs of manure each day. A SINGLE COW.
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