Throwback

I found this little snippet of writing from just after I moved several months ago. I didn't post it on the blog at the time because I overthink everything and was afraid the subject might read it and I thought it was kind of embarrassing. But now it's kind of funny...especially since I KNOW the subject is going to read about it. It's neat how time changes your perspective on things. I can't wait to look back on that time I bought a house in New Orleans with my boyfriend and laugh at what a silly naive girl I was... And the time I made an ass out of myself with Cheshire Cat? I hope we'll still be friends so one day we can laugh about it together. And someday I'll look back on this time of unemployed financial stress and think "those were the days..."

Anyway, I give you, for your googly-eyed gawking pleasure, a train wreck:

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9/21/09 - This Stupid T-Shirt

I have this annoying tiki mug T-shirt in size large. In the haze of a hangover I took it home from someone's house with the intention of washing it and giving it back, but as my haze lifted I very quickly realized that I would probably never see him again anyway. When I was moving I found it in my stuff and the mortifying sequence of events that led to my receiving the t-shirt all came flooding back into my memory. Mortifying, I tell you. I know he doesn’t miss the t-shirt, which is very likely why it was the one given to me. I guarantee, in fact, that he does not want it back.

So what do I do with it? It’s much too big for me to wear, even to run in. It’s like a tent. I don’t just want to throw it out–I hate throwing out clothes. Even if I could wear it I probably wouldn’t. I thought about donating it to a thrift shop, but I don’t have anything else really to donate…so it’s just sitting in my drawer with my running stuff. And every time I grab a pair of shorts its Tiki Mug face stares at me. And because I have never been in such a state of panic over my life as I was when I knew this person I feel disconcerted and slightly embarrassed every time I open the fucking drawer.