Nomads in the City
Tuesday evening I got home late and discovered I had a phone call from ExOfNote. Now, don't get me wrong, I was happy that he had called me as soon as he got back into town, and pleasantly surprised (though, frankly, I shouldn't be).
What surprised me the most was the content of his message, "Hey, Granola, it's me. I just wanted to let you know that I got in all right, and, that I was broken into sometime over the weekend. I've called the cops, and don't really know how much stuff the thief got away with. Give me a call."
I called.
Looks like they got his X-Box, a bunch of games, and a box of movies, including two whole anime series. (Yeah, I'm not into anime, either; but it's his thing). However, he felt the need to point out, "Thankfully, I live nomadically, so most of my stuff is still in boxes, so they didn't get away with all that much." Which means, for all of those who missed it: "Even though I moved into this apartment 3 1/2 years ago, and told you 1 1/2 years ago that I was unpacking boxes, I never got around to it. Thank goodness, too. Otherwise they would have gotten away with more stuff, because they could have actually found it." The funny ('ironic', not 'haha') thing is, just that morning I was teasing him about his need to unpack his boxes, and isn't my house more pleasant to be in, because it's clean and there are no boxes sitting all around. Yeah. Take that, me. Looks like the combination of unpack-ed-ness and messiness have left him with the majority of his belongings. Lucky him. That's still not persuasive enough to encourage me to leave messes around the house.
Here's an interesting back story: So, ExOfNote and I broke up right around Valentine's Day (yes, it sucked, thanks for asking), and when he called me four weeks later (hey, when you are used to talking once every one or two weeks because of long distance fees four weeks isn't as long as you might think -- but, it's still a long time) he told me that he had started unpacking boxes, and "had found that painting you did for me, and hung up." (He shared this information only after I had mentioned the painting and told him if he didn't want it, I'd like to have it back.) When I asked what had prompted him unpack after all that time he told me it was about time he got around to it. Here's a quick translation for those of you who are still not on the ball: "I screwed up, and I want you back, and I'm not sure that's going to happen, but I wanted a piece of you around even more so, now that I can't have you, so I pulled out that painting that I've had in a box forever, and hung it up. Now, I can look at it whenever I want to think about you, and stare at it while I cry myself to sleep over my stupidity (Ok, so the last part wasn't in there, but, it should have been)."
When he told me he got robbed I wanted to ask him about my painting. It means a lot to me, and I guess it means a lot to him. I didn't. I don't want to know, just in case.
What surprised me the most was the content of his message, "Hey, Granola, it's me. I just wanted to let you know that I got in all right, and, that I was broken into sometime over the weekend. I've called the cops, and don't really know how much stuff the thief got away with. Give me a call."
I called.
Looks like they got his X-Box, a bunch of games, and a box of movies, including two whole anime series. (Yeah, I'm not into anime, either; but it's his thing). However, he felt the need to point out, "Thankfully, I live nomadically, so most of my stuff is still in boxes, so they didn't get away with all that much." Which means, for all of those who missed it: "Even though I moved into this apartment 3 1/2 years ago, and told you 1 1/2 years ago that I was unpacking boxes, I never got around to it. Thank goodness, too. Otherwise they would have gotten away with more stuff, because they could have actually found it." The funny ('ironic', not 'haha') thing is, just that morning I was teasing him about his need to unpack his boxes, and isn't my house more pleasant to be in, because it's clean and there are no boxes sitting all around. Yeah. Take that, me. Looks like the combination of unpack-ed-ness and messiness have left him with the majority of his belongings. Lucky him. That's still not persuasive enough to encourage me to leave messes around the house.
Here's an interesting back story: So, ExOfNote and I broke up right around Valentine's Day (yes, it sucked, thanks for asking), and when he called me four weeks later (hey, when you are used to talking once every one or two weeks because of long distance fees four weeks isn't as long as you might think -- but, it's still a long time) he told me that he had started unpacking boxes, and "had found that painting you did for me, and hung up." (He shared this information only after I had mentioned the painting and told him if he didn't want it, I'd like to have it back.) When I asked what had prompted him unpack after all that time he told me it was about time he got around to it. Here's a quick translation for those of you who are still not on the ball: "I screwed up, and I want you back, and I'm not sure that's going to happen, but I wanted a piece of you around even more so, now that I can't have you, so I pulled out that painting that I've had in a box forever, and hung it up. Now, I can look at it whenever I want to think about you, and stare at it while I cry myself to sleep over my stupidity (Ok, so the last part wasn't in there, but, it should have been)."
When he told me he got robbed I wanted to ask him about my painting. It means a lot to me, and I guess it means a lot to him. I didn't. I don't want to know, just in case.
posted by granola girl at 6:16 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home