Blanket Forts FTW

I just got the following picture message:

"Sweet!" I replied. "I loooove indoor camping. So fun!"

"Yeah, ha ha."

I assume the sender thought my response was oozing with my usual amount of sarcasm. Not so.

I freakin love inside tents, and it all started with blanket forts. Oh, you don't know about blanket forts? Let me edumuhcate you.

Blanket fort - When every pillow, sofa cushion, movable chair, and (obv.) blanket in the vicinity is used to assemble a complex, massive, sometimes multi-room-spanning construction of tunnels and chambers, through which children can burrow, while scarfing junk food and hoarding toys.  Every mother's clean-up nightmare.

My siblings and I had some epic blanket forts. We would live in there for days, pretty much until my mother wanted to used the sofa...or a blanket...or a chair...or was looking for any of the the food in the house.

What is so special about forts for kids? Maybe it's having that first taste of your very own space, a place that's just your size, that you created, a place where you can hide and eat Oreos, or read a book, or daydream, even if it's a towel hung between two dining chairs.

I wonder if that tent in the picture message would have the same feeling now that I've had my own place(s) for so long? I doubt it, but I wish it would.

Brain Dump

A friend of mine used the term "brain dump" in an email today. I thought this would be an appropriate title, as my brain is 'bout to take a dump in this post. I keep a running list of blog ideas in my BlackBerry notes, and I plan to cover a few of them now. I will hold off on "sesame street techno pants'ed" and "short shorts lotion no shower." Mostly because I have no fucking clue what either of those mean. Also because I think each of those might be awesome enough to need its own entire post.

Let's get this show on the road.

I moved again. For anyone keeping track, that makes seven moves in the last two years - three of those in the last six months. After all that moving, I think I've become quite the interior designer. Let me give you a little tour of my new place.

I went for the minimalist look in the living room. Notice the placement of the quilt-wrapped flat screen - right near the cable jack, should I ever decide to pay for cable. And rain boots right by the door are a functional addition to any home.

Now for the study. I haven't decided exactly how to use the study, so right now it's my art studio, home office and gym. What a useful room!

And here's where the magic happens, bitches. Notice the placement of the air mattress. That's some good feng shui.

Because I know you are wondering, yes, my design services are available to any interested parties.

Whatever, living alone is the best! I spent the weekend unbathed and singing to my iTunes in the living room. Another special treat is having my kitchen back. My kitchen. Nobody else's weird-ass food (mini cocktail weenies in a jar, beans, nasty Chili's leftovers) taking up space in my grill.  Now it's only my weird food. You see...

I went sugar-free (or at least really, really low sugar).

So these diet staples...

...have been replaced with this crap.

If you look closely, you'll see hummus, tofu, mozzarella, green tea, soy milk, fruits and vegetables. In the freezer I have gluten-free pizza and vegan chicken nuggets. Why, you ask? I had eight photos of desserts in my BlackBerry. Candy breakfasts are no joke with me - they're a real thing. If I'm not careful, I'll end up with the beetis.

Plus I jump at any chance to be a culinary pain in the ass. I was a vegetarian for nearly six years. My diet consisted of grilled cheese sandwiches and Hostess cakes.

So I'm definitely planning a picnic dinner party like Grace Adler. Put down the organic goat brie cheese and return to the picnic area!

Since I have all this space, I've decided it's time to get a hobby. Do you even know how hard it is to find a Hobby Lobby around here? How can I be expected to choose a hobby with the Lobby? After browsing the aisles, I settled on drawing. Wah waaaah. Yeah, I know, boring, shut it. If the drawing doesn't pan out, I'll move on to my second and third choices: sword swallowing and bee charming.

So I guess my new sense of calm has somehow spilled over into my workplace. At our all-company meeting last week, I was awarded this:

Something about being a raving fan, yada yada yada. I got a scarlet letter. WTF. It is funny how this stupid little wooden R has washed a strange contentment over my professional life and alleviated the restlessness. Such a small recognition had such a pacifying, sedating effect. I'm fairly certain it's The Man trying to hold me back. Like drugs, those crimson wooden letters. They turn you into a lemming, and the next thing you know it's 30 years down the road. I ought to burn it, that evil voodoo witch letter.

But evidently, it also stands for "Retiree Bait." Check out my dating matches this week. No lie.

Um. I don't remember ever checking "Santa Claus" as my preferred body type. I can just imagine the third dude saying, "I've got a present for you, little girl. Just come sit in my lap." 

Brain elimination complete.

Hermit Perks

After living alone for about six years, I've spent the last 16 months NOT living alone. But who's counting?  The ability to live alone is the biggest consolation for being single. It might not seem like much, but consider the following perks:

• You can have candy breakfasts, pancake dinners, and beer brunches, and no one will criticize. Personally, this is a huge factor, as my diet is simply embarassing. I love that I can come home and unabashedly dip my french fries in my Frosty. You can eat whatever you want, whenever you want. There is no such thing as sharing when you live alone. If you buy a package of Sausalitos, you are guaranteed to have that deliciousness to look forward to after work. If you order pizza, you choose the toppings. Every time. And you get all the leftovers. 
• If I want to sit around in nothing but a belt and socks (eating fries and a Frosty), who's going to stop me? You can dress however you want. Now, I know when you're married, this is generally the same. But when you're single and live alone, you can take it to the extreme. I lavish the fact that I can be slovenly every weekend. I have no problem wearing the same baggy t-shirt, pajama pants, and knee socks from Friday evening through Sunday evening...without showering. Hey, everyone knows it's bad to wash your hair every day! 
• Seinfeld re-runs. No one else appreciates them on a daily basis. When I have sole control of the remote, this is what is showing after work. Yes, I have seen them all - several times. What's your point, exactly?
• Showering with the door open is something I will never, ever take for granted. I despise, despise closing the door when I shower. I hate that the bathroom gets all steamy and slimy. And even worse? Getting dressed in that steamy, slimy, sweaty bathroom. Gross. When you shower with the door open (which you can freely do when you live alone), the whole place is your fabulous dressing room. You're not confined to a slippery, hot 5x5 sweat-box. And on that note...
• You can try on as many outfits as you want before work or a date...or going to the grocery store. And you can leave the runners-up flung all over the room for as long as you like. Because...
• Yo' mama don't live here. You don't have to make your bed, unload the dishwasher, fold the laundry...until you're darn-well ready to. For me, that's usually on Sunday. But it doesn't have to be. A major high point of living alone is that you never, ever have to clean up after anyone else but yourself.
• Need milk? Go get it. Want to hit the mall? Who's stopping you? Feel like throwing a dinner party? Start planning. You can do anything you want when you live alone - without working around anyone else's schedule. You can be governed by whim.

So, while I hesitate to leave my current living situation because it is cost-effective and temporary, I feel like I need to take advantage of my singledom. Right now I'm really missing out on the best part.