[The Daily Humpus! 20] in which we discuss the definition of "daily"
Marley Magaziner
What's up Humpers!
Sorry for the radio silence lately. Stephen Elliott has been showing me up by sending out a Daily Rumpus DAILY which is just ridiculous. As I said on Twitter, “daily” is more of a guideline for me. And shit, y’all, I been tired.
Because... we moved! I haven’t moved for 3 years. And now I remember why. It’s exhausting and stressful. But, even though I have way more stuff now than I did last time, and I'm moving in with the boyfriend and trying to keep my life together at the same time, this move was a comparative breeze. Still exhausting, though.
I was thinking about the last time I moved. I was 25. It was a Thursday; I’d taken the day off from work to move,
and then I was planning to go to Florida that night with a couple of friends to
stay at a friend’s relatives’ house for vacation.
I was moving out of a roommate situation into a studio—and I was thankful every day for being able to live alone, even when I was lonely. Privacy is amazing. I think everyone should live alone for a while.
It was a highly choreographed sort of day where everything depended on the timing of the move… and everything went wrong. The movers were to meet me at noon in Crown Heights where I had some things in storage (that part is another story); they were a couple hours late and I got to hang around the storage space for a long time with nothing to do, no where to go. I started going through my phone and calling people who weren’t at work in the middle of the day on a Thursday.
Then the movers finally arrived—2 college guys—and we loaded up the truck pretty quickly and headed to Greenpoint where I lived. I was moving about 8 blocks north. From there it should have been easy; go to the old place, pick up more stuff, go to the new place, drop it all off and then I would grab my suitcase and head to JFK to get on a plane to Florida. The guys knew I was in a hurry; it would all be fine. We were about 4 blocks from my apartment and the moving van (well, the driver) ran a stop sign and we were hit by a bus. The B43, I think. Very dramatic. The truck spun around and fell on its side. My side. But we were all ok. Bruised, shaken up, but, amazingly, fine. So… after calling a friend and freaking out and eating a pot brownie, I was on my way to Florida. Bruised, stunned, and a little giggly.
And everything was fine that weekend except I couldn’t stop puking…which is why I’m not on the pill anymore.
But anyway. We’ve moved. We officially live together. Both f our names are on the lease. This is crazy, y’all. Crazy good. And we’re unpacking boxes and we have duplicates of 3 books: The adderall diaries, Annie Proulx’s Close Range, and Beginner’s Greek which doesn’t count b/c my bf gave me my copy.
I think that’s fascinating since we’re both big readers and both have a shitton of books. 3 Billy bookcases worth (but we ony own 2 Billy bookcases) That’s just crazy.
I have some stuff to say about depression and Stephen Elliott and the Rumpus but I’m going to save it for tomorrow when I’m screwing around at work. Also there were some comments made about burlesque that set some folks off on the internet today… but I’m kinda done with it by this point. And this is long and dramatic enough as it is.
INTERNET STUFF
The boyf and I are having the best kinda party—drink our booze and take our stuff!! Win-win!
http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/event.php?eid=123174307695253&ref=ts
There should be a video of my bf on this site
www.cutethingsfallingasleep.org yes, dot ORG because it is an organization…
I’m going to this tomorrow night. It’s my fav regular burlesque show. You should come if you’re in the city. Password “skin” gets you half off admission. Even if you’re not into naked ladies (you know you are) you’ll be entertained by the ridiculous Bastard Keith. Y’know when your cheeks hurt from laughing too much? That’s this guy. He does that to you.
http://www.horsetrade.info/ONgoingEvents/REVEALED/Revealed.html
f’reals.
Peace out!
--THE HUMPUS GOT FANCY!
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