October 19, 2010
October 7, 2010
Letter to....
Dear Pigpen;
When I first met you, although it was all so sudden after my roommate had broken up with his girlfriend (whom i am friends with), I tried to keep an open mind and see what you were about. You seemed friendly and warm. In fact, as it turned out we even worked together ten years ago, so we already had a bit of a common bond. I remembered you as bubbly and quirky. However, ten years later and every single molecule in my body tries to run at the sight or sound of you. And sound is an issue. I can sleep through almost anything, i'm a rock; and on Saturday morning after my fiance and I had tied one on, and were sleeping in, and you decided to check in on your daughters via telephone call, it irked me that you chose to do so in front of our bedroom door. But our door was closed, and perhaps you just thought we were out for breakfast, or that our wooden door was enough to keep your voice at bay. I too had some thoughts. I thought maybe you were hearing impaired, and that you had not gotten this checked out so were not aware of your actual volume. Then it came to my attention that you are in the media.
Now i've dated and befriended other media personalities, as well as performers and they are quite usually aware of their volume, as it is part of their job- but, maybe you were a "quiet one" in the early days, and now with new confidence, are not aware that every time you utter a sound your diaphragm is working overtime. Sometimes at night, when I'm sleeping, i wake up to things; like the mosquito fogging truck, drunk people fighting outside in our back lane, but this is rare as I am the type that normally sleeps through my alarm. Not this Tuesday though! Well, actually... i did sleep through my alarm, but luckily, you were getting rammed so hard by my roommate, that even if I wanted to sleep past my alarm, i couldn't. Yup, my door closed, my blanket snug around my head, and my alarm blaring off were not enough to keep your ecstatic moans in my roomates ears where they belong. But good for you! you must really, REALLY enjoy sex! Because, even when i stormed cheerfully to the bathroom happily slamming the door behind me, you just kept going! I am glad you had so much fun! Not as much fun as you had last night though, i'm pretty sure you guys got adventurous. I'm no pro at this, but i've seen some porn in my day, and i heard some sounds that i've only heard when women experiment with anal sex. So kudo's to you, cuz maybe i'm narrow minded, but that's an exit only door for me, looks like yours has multiple purposes. But that's really just speculation.
Speaking of recent events; my fiance and I had a friend over for dinner the other night. I cleaned the apartment, leaving the bathroom for the very end. At which point fiance took over. He went to stamp down the entrails of the waste basket when "ope!" what rolled onto the floor? Your used tampon! Now maybe I'm anal (not the way we just discussed you may or may not be), but when I have my period, I have a habit, and that's what it is really, isn't it? a habit? As it's become routine since i was about ohhh... 14 years old? To flush them down the toilet once i've removed them. In the rare case that I'm at someone's house that has one of those "omigod, if i flush after i poop is it going to come back and overflow, ohgawwwd! i really don't know this person well enough to have this conversation" running, limp flusher, toilets- i wrap it thoroughly in toilet paper and dispose of it as faaaar down in a waste basket as i possibly can. But clearly, you are very proud of your tampon after it's proven it's use to you! So much so that it needs to be on display. Never once have i thought about how incredibly thankless i am to that little nub of cotton. I mean i've seen big game fish mounted on display, but never once did i think - what did that fish do that it deserves such nobility. You have opened my eyes; it's the little things that deserve our praise and thanks, not just our mere accomplishments and hobbies, that's so egotistical! We ought to give thanks to those little things that help us get through the day. What a wonderful outlook!
And perhaps, that's where I get confused. You see, I come home to things like a red tampon atop a pillowy mound of refuse, yet your jacket and shoes which are responsible for keeping you warm and your feet comfortable, all over the floor. And I know you're aware of the coat hanger, as we've pointed it out, and I know the shoe rack is right in front of you when you walk in... so I ask, what is it about these item that aren't good enough to deserve a proper place of display as well? Unless, of course, everything, from the chewed up olive pit on my coffee table, to the tampon tossed on top of the garbage and your clothes strewn on the floor are in fact not your way of decorating or commemorating, but a complete lack of respect and consideration for the people that actually pay to live here. And that makes sense. As only a couple of weeks prior, you had woken up and took to the bathroom to begin readying yourself for a big day of journalism ahead of you. You were doing your hair in our washroom, when my fiance walked in, and you were startled. You let out some sort of "mhrrrm" or other unrecognizable sound, to which he responded with, "oh, I'm sorry", and busied himself while waiting for what he assumed would be a few minutes as you gathered your things to get ready in another room, so that he would be able to continue on with his morning routine in his bathroom, in his apartment, and get to work on time. Silly him. Instead, you came out 25 minutes later, after all, you're on camera! We regular day folks have nothing anywhere near as important as how your hair looks on the news. In conclusion, I feel that due to our close relationship, I should tell you that we are moving out in three weeks. And that's too bad, because I think that we could've gotten a lot closer. I've even picked out a friendly nickname for you; "ditchpiggie". Isn't cute? When I initially wrote you this letter i drew hearts on top of the "i"'s. Cuz I love you ditchpiggie! And truly, we shall miss you.
Oh ps. here's one of our memorable photos!
Love, Shannon
When I first met you, although it was all so sudden after my roommate had broken up with his girlfriend (whom i am friends with), I tried to keep an open mind and see what you were about. You seemed friendly and warm. In fact, as it turned out we even worked together ten years ago, so we already had a bit of a common bond. I remembered you as bubbly and quirky. However, ten years later and every single molecule in my body tries to run at the sight or sound of you. And sound is an issue. I can sleep through almost anything, i'm a rock; and on Saturday morning after my fiance and I had tied one on, and were sleeping in, and you decided to check in on your daughters via telephone call, it irked me that you chose to do so in front of our bedroom door. But our door was closed, and perhaps you just thought we were out for breakfast, or that our wooden door was enough to keep your voice at bay. I too had some thoughts. I thought maybe you were hearing impaired, and that you had not gotten this checked out so were not aware of your actual volume. Then it came to my attention that you are in the media.
Now i've dated and befriended other media personalities, as well as performers and they are quite usually aware of their volume, as it is part of their job- but, maybe you were a "quiet one" in the early days, and now with new confidence, are not aware that every time you utter a sound your diaphragm is working overtime. Sometimes at night, when I'm sleeping, i wake up to things; like the mosquito fogging truck, drunk people fighting outside in our back lane, but this is rare as I am the type that normally sleeps through my alarm. Not this Tuesday though! Well, actually... i did sleep through my alarm, but luckily, you were getting rammed so hard by my roommate, that even if I wanted to sleep past my alarm, i couldn't. Yup, my door closed, my blanket snug around my head, and my alarm blaring off were not enough to keep your ecstatic moans in my roomates ears where they belong. But good for you! you must really, REALLY enjoy sex! Because, even when i stormed cheerfully to the bathroom happily slamming the door behind me, you just kept going! I am glad you had so much fun! Not as much fun as you had last night though, i'm pretty sure you guys got adventurous. I'm no pro at this, but i've seen some porn in my day, and i heard some sounds that i've only heard when women experiment with anal sex. So kudo's to you, cuz maybe i'm narrow minded, but that's an exit only door for me, looks like yours has multiple purposes. But that's really just speculation.
Speaking of recent events; my fiance and I had a friend over for dinner the other night. I cleaned the apartment, leaving the bathroom for the very end. At which point fiance took over. He went to stamp down the entrails of the waste basket when "ope!" what rolled onto the floor? Your used tampon! Now maybe I'm anal (not the way we just discussed you may or may not be), but when I have my period, I have a habit, and that's what it is really, isn't it? a habit? As it's become routine since i was about ohhh... 14 years old? To flush them down the toilet once i've removed them. In the rare case that I'm at someone's house that has one of those "omigod, if i flush after i poop is it going to come back and overflow, ohgawwwd! i really don't know this person well enough to have this conversation" running, limp flusher, toilets- i wrap it thoroughly in toilet paper and dispose of it as faaaar down in a waste basket as i possibly can. But clearly, you are very proud of your tampon after it's proven it's use to you! So much so that it needs to be on display. Never once have i thought about how incredibly thankless i am to that little nub of cotton. I mean i've seen big game fish mounted on display, but never once did i think - what did that fish do that it deserves such nobility. You have opened my eyes; it's the little things that deserve our praise and thanks, not just our mere accomplishments and hobbies, that's so egotistical! We ought to give thanks to those little things that help us get through the day. What a wonderful outlook!
And perhaps, that's where I get confused. You see, I come home to things like a red tampon atop a pillowy mound of refuse, yet your jacket and shoes which are responsible for keeping you warm and your feet comfortable, all over the floor. And I know you're aware of the coat hanger, as we've pointed it out, and I know the shoe rack is right in front of you when you walk in... so I ask, what is it about these item that aren't good enough to deserve a proper place of display as well? Unless, of course, everything, from the chewed up olive pit on my coffee table, to the tampon tossed on top of the garbage and your clothes strewn on the floor are in fact not your way of decorating or commemorating, but a complete lack of respect and consideration for the people that actually pay to live here. And that makes sense. As only a couple of weeks prior, you had woken up and took to the bathroom to begin readying yourself for a big day of journalism ahead of you. You were doing your hair in our washroom, when my fiance walked in, and you were startled. You let out some sort of "mhrrrm" or other unrecognizable sound, to which he responded with, "oh, I'm sorry", and busied himself while waiting for what he assumed would be a few minutes as you gathered your things to get ready in another room, so that he would be able to continue on with his morning routine in his bathroom, in his apartment, and get to work on time. Silly him. Instead, you came out 25 minutes later, after all, you're on camera! We regular day folks have nothing anywhere near as important as how your hair looks on the news. In conclusion, I feel that due to our close relationship, I should tell you that we are moving out in three weeks. And that's too bad, because I think that we could've gotten a lot closer. I've even picked out a friendly nickname for you; "ditchpiggie". Isn't cute? When I initially wrote you this letter i drew hearts on top of the "i"'s. Cuz I love you ditchpiggie! And truly, we shall miss you.
Oh ps. here's one of our memorable photos!
Love, Shannon
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