Autobiographically Too Flat

Sean mentioned something to me the other day, when we were discussing some remark I made about centipedes in my apartment; he said that for some reason, the minutiae of other peoples lives (as found in countless blogs on the net) is actually interesting. I, never having actually read anyones weblogs before, decided to take a look and see if that was true. As a general rule, they weren't particularly interesting reading; in fact the ones that were about the piddling details of other peoples lives (such as this one) were, generally speaking, the least interesting ones. This got me a little concerned about what it is exactly that I'm doing here. But as soon as I thought that, I recieved another email from Dov telling me to get off my lazy tuchis and put in an entry. So the world once again regained form and purpose. Just now I'm realizing that the fact that this may or may not have any significance or value is irrelevant. You don't have to read it. That's kind of empowering, actually.

So here we are. Going home yesterday was kind of funny. I guess I was intellectually prepared for the fact of Jeff's leaving, but maybe not so much the ramifications that would have on my lifestyle. When I walked in the door yesterday, I had a serious moment of shock when I saw that the apartment was emptied out. Not completely emptied - the crappy stuff is still there (the two couches that you sink into about 2 feet when you sit on them, the pile of detritus that Jeff has been collecting on the second floor that appears to be all bundled together with a 85' length of rough twine, a stack of paint can tops that rises 3 feet from the floor) along with some things that I don't think I have ever seen in the apartment before. Most of them were pretty innocuous, but I'll admit to have been somewhat taken aback by the grocery cart.

The entertainment center (including the TV) is gone, which is good and bad. Now I won't be wasting my time watching Law and Order and NYPD Blue, but it also means that the bag full of second and third season Twin Peaks tapes are just going to be collecting dust for a while. Which is a total disaster. On the upside, remember that I live in a loft apartment. Having someone take all of the stuff out of the common area comes up really really huge for playing a game of handball in my living room. I have 20' ceilings, and a whole lot of empty wallspace. Just have to watch out for the staircase in the middle of the court.

What I thought was going to be the worst part actually wasn't that bad. He took the frame and futon mattress that I'd been using to sleep on (he wasn't being a dick, they were his), and so I'm back to sleeping on the floor on an inflatable mattress. I thought that was going to suck, but it really wasn't that bad. It was nice because whenever I put my hand out, I touched my cd cases, and for some reason that was really comforting. He was also nice enough to forget some of his cds, and now all of a sudden I have a Doves album in my cd player (which is good because people have been telling me to LISTEN TO DOVES for a while now).

And now I have about a week in this shell of an apartment, as I wait for the new girl to move in. I'm in no rush to have that happen, but I'm resigned to the fact that it will. I hope she doesn't bring a TV, last night was nice.