27th
MORE ADVENTUROUS
First off, I have to apologize to all my Chilean readers for the lack of weekend bloggage. I was actually productive… If you can believe it. I know I can’t! I took a trip in my Geographical Central Standard Time Machine to the wilds of Minneapolis where I drank a round with Paul Westerberg and watched some ’70s TV with Motion City Soundtrack. Don’t worry if you’re confused. It’ll all make sense in due time. Swears.
I did a load of laundry this morning and ran into my next door neighbors. It’s an older couple (around the age of my parents), who are both super nice. I think the wife’s mute, though, because she never says a word. Not a boo. She just stands there and smiles. Sometimes she’s holding cleaning supplies. Today it was a bunch of quilts. Weird, right? The guy, on the other hand, can’t stop talking to me. He’s so nice and really interested in the young whipper-snapper living next door. “We haven’t seen you in a while,” he said to me today as he and Helen Keller got on the elevator. I never really know if he’s talking to me because he’s always wearing one of those bluetooth headsets on his ear and unless I see him face-to-face, I just assume he’s talking to a mysterious quilt cleaner on the other end or something.
I kind of chuckled when he basically accused me of being a hermit because 1.) I’ve maybe seen the guy four times in the past eight months I’ve lived in this apartment building, and 2.) it made me realize that maybe I am becoming a hermit. I mean, if someone who’s name I don’t even know (John? Joe? David? Grrr… I’ll remember it one of these days…) has noticed I’m not leaving the apartment, I can only imagine what my friends think.
For a minute, I thought to respond [in a snooty The Real Housewives Of New York City accent]: “Well [insert name here], I’ve been traveling for the past couple weeks, living the glamorous life of a single gal with no full-time job holding her down. You’ve seen that show Sex And The City, right? The one with the woman who looks like a horse and is married to Ferris Beuller? Well, my life is like that… but BETTER! I mean, I’m just soooo busy being fabulous, I hardly have time to breathe. You might not see me that often because I’ve installed a landing strip inside my apartment so I don’t have to go all the way to the airport to board my private jet. And I’m surprised all my late-night parties haven’t kept you and your Amish wife up at night? I keep telling Puff Daddy, well, Puff, as he’s known to his close personal friends, to keep it down but he insists on playing Danity Kane sooooooo loud. [Ring. Ring.] Oh, can you hold on a sec? I’ve got Kimora on the phone. We’re supposed to meet at Richie Brandson’s island later this week… Hello? Kimora?”
Maybe it was because I don’t know Kimora Lee Simmons and I don’t have a landing strip in my apartment. Or because my life couldn’t be further from an episode of Sex And The City and Puffy is not a close, personal friend of mine. More than likely, it was probably because I was wearing sweatpants, no bra, a John Hiatt T-shirt and my hair pulled back in the crusty headband I use when I wash my face, because that’s when I said…
“Yeah, I’ve been spending a lot of time in my apartment these days. [Pause.] I think I might be becoming a hermit.”
