It's Still There

I like to include pictures as much as possible, but I think you'll thank me for not doing that with this post.

Remember that bat? The one that woke me up from my clothing optional beauty sleep? The one that my landlord killed and then laid to rest in an Amazon box, placed gingerly in the bottom of the trashcan? Because I can be a paranoid person, I had a lot of issues surrounding that trashcan for quite a while. Allow me to share them with you.

The entrance to my apartment is on the side of the house, right next to where the trashcans live. So until trash day, I had to think about that dead bat body in the bottom of that trashcan, less than a foot from my door. I got very very good at keeping my gaze far away from the inside of that can. And then on trash day I had to muster up all my squeamish-girl-living-on-her-own guts and carry that trashcan/coffin to the curb. And then I went to work and spent the whole day imagining what I'd come back home to. What if the garbage men don't shake the can enough and the bat doesn't make it out? What if they throw the can back and it falls over and the bat comes tumbling out onto the curb and I have to see it??? How will I ever manage to bring the trashcan back to it's spot beside the house if it potentially still has a dead bat body in the bottom?!?!?

I avoided this by coming home as late as possible on trash day, increasing the chances that one of the other women downstairs would bring it back for me. And that worked well for a few weeks. Then I realized the trashcan was light enough when it's empty that I can carry it with my arm stretched out far away from me so I can't see inside. And that worked even better. I had no idea whether or not it was still there, and that was fine because I could just pretend it wasn't. I shared all this with my boyfriend and he looked, but I made him promise not to tell me what he did or did not see.

Well the other day I had some junk mail and I thought I'd just toss it in the can rather than take it upstairs. My guard was down, and there were no bags in the can, and I leaned over just a little too far... I saw the box, smashed. I saw something black underneath it, smashed. I stifled a scream and managed not to faint, turned the key and went upstairs to pour myself a stiff drink.

Keepin it real

I'm sorry I whined yesterday about how I wish I were funnier. I don't particularly like it when bloggers whine on their blogs about how they wish their blogs were better cause it feels a little insulting to me, I am choosing to read that blog. I don't want to hear about how I picked a lame one. So, I'm sorry for doing that here. I'll stop it now.

One thing I have realized about blogs that I like is that the authors tend to tell embarassing stories about themselves. And then I realized that I left out the funniest and potentially most embarassing part of The Good, The Bat, and The Ugly.

The real reason I was so happy that "I managed to miraculously end up with a bra, sweatshirt, and yoga pants in the completely random fistful of clothing I grabbed in the dark," is because I was sleeping in the buff that night. Yup, you heard me.

When I told my boyfriend the whole story he said, "Wow baby, I'm so sorry that happened but of course now all I can think about is the fact that you were sleeping naked. And I'm so sad because I'm guessing you'll never do that again."

And he's right, I haven't been able to sleep nekid since. And I have to say my world is a little less bright because of it. I really liked sleeping that way, especially because I received the fanciest sheets I've ever owned last Christmas and they feel so nice.

Shark Week!

It's Shark Week! So in honor, I made shark attack cupcakes! I got the idea after seeing a friend's version that she made from Hello, Cupcake! I'm sad to say I was cheap and didn't buy the book, which may be why my sharks are pretty messy.

My favorite part is the life preserver with a bite taken out of it. I don't know if that was in the book, but my friend did that and I thought it was hilarious.


These were taken with my boyfriend's camera which is much better than my camera. You're welcome.


The snack that bites back!


Woman versus shark!


*Chomp* I win.

The Good, The Bat, and The Ugly

The Good: I managed to miraculously end up with a bra, sweatshirt, and yoga pants in the completely random fistful of clothing I grabbed in the dark.

The Bad: I grabbed this fistful of clothing because at approximately 4:00 am on Friday morning, I awoke to a fucking BAT flying around my bedroom. Sorry for the swearing (well, no I'm not really or else I wouldn't have typed it) but that's the only adjective that feels honest. It took me about 5 seconds to realize that I had to get the hell out of the apartment and also that I needed to put something on over my sleeping outfit.**

The Ugly: After hiding out at my parents' house till a more appropriate time in the morning, my dad and I met my landlord back at my place to try and get rid of the intruder. I stood outside and waited and waited. They searched the whole place and freaked out the cats until my dad had to leave for work. I went back inside and listened to my landlord try to convince me that it must have left through the open window he found. But I made him check the closet one more time. And of course, right in front of my eyes, as soon as he opened the door it flew right out. I immediately dropped down into a little ball on the floor, covered my head and started shrieking. He calmly suggested I leave, which I managed to do, and by the time I made it down to the sidewalk, I heard three sharp whacks of the broom. A minute later he walked out with a little box, shook it to demonstrate that there was a dead bat body inside, and tossed it in the trash.

I'm still not entirely over it. Naturally I took the day off of work.

**ETA: When I say "sleeping outfit" what I mean is birthday suit.

Not worth it

This post is about an ugly plant that the former resident of my apartment left behind. Here it is:


It's not only a bad picture, it's just an ugly plant. But I initially felt happy about having a plant in my new place. Plants are good. So I watered it and it grew a little and I felt nice. But here's what I know is true about me: I'm not that inclined towards growing plants. I forget to water them and I don't like the dirt.


So I would water it, then forget, it would get wilty and sad looking, so I'd water it again and it would perk up and that would make me feel good, but then I'd forget to water it again for a while. One day it dawned on me that I didn't particularly like the plant in the first place and since I clearly wasn't motivated enough to give it what it needed, it was only draining me to continue caring for it. So I put it out with the trash.


Goodbye ugly little plant. I hope you decompose in peace and go on to serve a better purpose than annoying me from the windowsill.

Unexpected Domesticity

It seems these days it's pretty hip to be domestic. Handmade and home cooked are trendy? Hey, I'm all for it. As a knitter, I definitely appreciate handmade. But knitting takes SO LONG. And I never got into sewing, I hate the idea of stabbing my fingers all the time. It feels like in the time it would take me to get the hang of a handmade lifestyle, it'd become hip to by mass produced goods again. And cooking? It's not just not my thing, I'd ALWAYS rather get take-out or buy a frozen pizza. But I guess every now and then everyone does something a little out of character.

I did this:
Pasta salad. I have no intention of eating this till tomorrow evening at the earliest. I just wanted to make it. What is up with that?

And then I did this:

Cut up veggies for an omelet that I apparently will make sometime soon. (???) I just voluntarily prepped vegetables. This is not normal. The empty wine glass in the back of these photos is normal, but the culinary production is very, very odd.