Date: Sun, 01 Feb 2004
Subject: The Shit I Don't Know

Hey Kids!
It's been a long fucking time since I last wrote one of these, and I wanted to be sure to get the word "fuck" in the first sentence. I'm on call this weekend, and I was sitting around reading work e-mail, when I got the urge to write.

[brief aside]
Before I go any further, I should actually say how much I miss those of you I haven't seen in the last six months. I should also apologize for not being around more (though, why I should start being polite now is entirely beyond me). Just know that as much of a ghost as I've been lately, I think about you folks almost every day and <--cut for being sentimental, long-winded diatribe, bordering on maudlin, whiny ass "I miss the good old days" horseshit. I actually don't miss the good old days, I've never been happier in my life. But I do miss my friends.--> hope we can all get together again soon.
[/brief aside]

So. My spellchecker doesn't like the word "horseshit." I guess that's because it's horse shit. Or horse-shit. Did you know a well placed hyphen will fix almost every misspelled word that a spell checker catches? Is your life any better now, for knowing? That's what I'm here for, to waste your time. My spellchecker also doesn't like the word "spellchecker." Know what I do when that happens? I add it to the dictionary. Is your life any better fo...I'll stop.

Four paragraphs in, and I'm still jerking off. This is so NOT like riding a bike. I think I'll tell you a little about my life in the last six months. Let's start with Annette. Annette is an absolute gem. We've been together literally every day since...June (she'll love it, if I fuck this up) 14th I think. Every day together, and I wouldn't change a minute of it. Well, except for The Hulk, that movie sucked a bag of dicks, and I'm actually considering writing a letter to Ang Lee, asking for my two hours back.

We moved into our new place in Claremont last August. We'll be moving into our new place exactly one block south of here on Valentine's weekend. Instead of going to Morro Bay. We thought Morro Bay would be kinda shitty, so we decided to move. We thought it'd be good exercise. Oh and the bath tub fills up with shit here, so we thought, "Hey let's not live with a shitty tub anymore." Our landlords are the worst excuse for property management I've ever encountered. The last time the tub filled with shit, I left them a voicemail at their "emergency" maintenance number. They never called back. That was the third time they've never called back. Landview Property Management, based in Glendora, never ever do business with them, they're actually more stupid than the people that work for Verizon.

I have to say, I originally thought living with a girl would be just like living with a roommate only you'd get laid more. Well, let me just say what an ignorant fuck I was. It's an entirely different way of life. Keep in mind the last time I lived with women, they were my family, and that hardly counts as any sort of experience. Can I just say how much shit is in my home? I'm not talking about the bath tub kind of shit here, I mean Shit. There is shit everywhere. I've never seen so much knick-knacky shit in my life, not even at my grandmothers house. Don't believe me?

My god, there must be two or three thousand picture frames sitting around here. We've got art in every room of the house except the bathroom, and I'm sure that's on it's way. We've got vases, statuettes, little tiny...things with fucking lids that don't have anything inside them. Oh and books. Annette and I both read, we literally don't have enough room for all our books. But here's the thing: It all looks good. I like coming home. I like what my home looks like. Love it, actually. But there's so much shit here.

I used to fancy myself a competent bachelor, I was a good cook, the house was clean, I did my own laundry...as it turns out, I didn't know shit. Apparently I was doing my laundry wrong for more than a decade. My clothes have never been so damn soft or smelled so damn good. And like, my version of clean? Yeah, I thought clean meant there wasn't a bunch of shit lying around which, of course, is now an impossible goal. Annette actually bothers to scrub surfaces clean. Sometimes with bleach.

Which reminds me, I used to know when it was getting time to clean house because it would start to get a little stuffy inside. Never happens anymore. Know why? Candles. I used to walk through the mall and every time I'd see that stupid ass candle store I'd wonder why the hell anyone would throw away ten to thirty bucks on a goddamn candle. Well, my woman does. Because it helps the house to not smell like ass.

And, yeah, I might be a good cook, but Annette is actually a great cook. As I was writing this she brought me a bowl of linguini with shrimp and red peppers in it. I've never eaten this well in my life, and it's starting to show. Time to head back to the gym. Anyway, this is turning into an insanely long email so I'll be merciful and cut it short. I hope you're all doing as well as I am and once we've moved into our new place, maybe we can have some of you over for dinner and a shit-free bath.

Kill Whitey!

posted by timothy on Sunday, February 01, 2004