Okay, so I just turned on the radio in my bedroom and walked ten feet, putting me in my living room. I listened to the last 60 seconds of Killing Me Softly when there was an abrupt transition to (I've Had) The Time of My Life -- the song from Dirty Dancing. This song scared the bejeezus out of me; if you're not familiar with the song, it starts with a deep voice. Like an idiot, I screamed because my immediate thought was, "OMG there's a man in my bedroom!" How dumb could I be? Firstly, I've been locked in my apartment for hours in silence working on a paper--when could I have missed a break in? Secondly, how much harm would a guy who spontaneously busts out a romantic song pose? I'll take this as a sign that I shouldn't be working so hard...
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I used to jump off furniture holding a bath towel over my head, thinking that I would be able to float down slowly like Mary Poppins. Perhaps this dream ended in one too many bumps to the head...
Have you ever used all but the last square of toilet paper and thought, "I gotta get another roll from the closet"...only to forget by the time you're done washing your hands...and remember only after you've sat down the next time? Me two.
During my first weekend at my new apartment (aka roughly 6 months ago), I ran the dishwasher to clean all the exciting new tupperware I had bought. How could I screw this up? Yes, the tupperware is dishwasher safe...until said tupperware falls through the bottom dish rack (whose holes are appropriately sized to hold plates and bowls, but not tiny lids) and onto the heating coils below. Yum, burnt plastic clean enough to eat from! But seriously, the resulting stench could curl even the shortest of nose hairs. And it has real staying power, too. That first weekend I lost three lids, but gained: a week of headaches, 7ish spiders from airing the place out, pretty-permanent reddish-pink decoration on the floor of my dishwasher, and an important lesson.
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