Three things I want to get rid of, but can't bring myself to do it:
1. My myspace page. First of all, I don't like the redundancy of "my-my-space page." But I can't just very well say "myspage page," can I? And, "My space page" (pausing between "my" and "space") sounds like I have a page about space (outer space, space in a closet, a parking space, personal space. . .) I've tried to quit myspace a few times, but every time I reach that CONFIRM ACCOUNT CANCELLATION page, I hit "Keep my Account." I tell myself that it is a good way to keep in contact with people. That's bullshit, though. The only contact I am really keeping is occasionally checking friends' pages, just to see that they haven't been on in months either. The only reason I do log on is if I receive an email notification that someone wants me to be their friend. This is either a spammer, or someone I knew from my hometown, that I never talked to when I lived there, and don't intend on talking to now, especially when I visit their page, and their layout is Budweiser-themed, and is accompanied by their repulsive beer drinking photos.
2. The one pair of jeans that I own. To be fair I do wear these to work, and I don't have anything to replace them. But even though they are my "work pants" I manage to wear them outside of work, a lot. I feel like a hypocrite because I hate jeans, yet I wear them almost every day. My problem is: I don't really have any other casual clothes to wear. All of the dresses I have made are pretty dressy, and I like wearing them with heels, but I can't wear heels that often because of my knobs*. And, I haven't found those perfect, comfortable, flats that will go nicely with them (the knobs and the dresses). So the solution would be to make some casual dresses that I can wear with my PF Flyers. But that takes time. So currently, still wearing the jeans, and searching for the right pair of flats.
*"Knobs" is the term I use to refer to my tailor's bunions. I don't like how the word "bunion" sounds. And when I think of what bunion sounds like it means, I picture a puss-filled protrusion of grotesque proportions on and old lady's sandaled foot. Gross. When in fact, it is really just a joint on the big or little toe that sticks out and when it rubs on the shoe, the skin gets irritated, and red, and hurts pretty bad. Basically I need an osteotomy to fix the bone structure of my pinky toe. And that surgery is expensive, even with the insurance I have through my parents as long as I am going to school full time.
My friend GUBBA drew this a while ago. It cheered me up because that was when my feet were hurting so badly that I didn't even want to put on a pair of shoes. For weeks I would go to work suffering in my shoes for 8 hours, then come home kick my shoes off, and not leave the house until I had to work the next day. It was a sad time. . .
What I think is the funniest part about this is how the doctor is touching the knob. And in the last panel I am watching Seinfeld. That's Kramer and Jerry on the TV there. Shelby's a dork. I did notice that she hasn't updated her blog in a while. She is probably too busy rocking out hard on her bass, flinging zombie guts and vampire blood all over the place in her band BRAAIINS!
3. My car. I drive a red, '98 Ford Escort, a hand-me-down from my sister. My car is a piece of shit: the air doesn't work, the breaks are squeaking, its got a tape player, when your in the back seat, you can hear some sort of rattling, there is a slow leak in the radiator, so I have to fill the coolant every once in a while. . . But the shittyness isn't what bothers me, I just hate driving, and I hate maintenance. I don't want to have to change the oil every 3000 miles. I hate washing it; I always count on San Diego's 9-inch average of rainfall per year to do the trick, which it doesn't. Gas prices, of course. Everyone is saying it, but really how am I going to afford gas for much longer? It just comes down to money, I hate spending money on something I don't even like. Oh how I would love to donate my car, not even deal with the hassle of selling it. . . just call NPR and make my contribution my favorite radio station. I wonder how much you get back in taxes for a donation like that?
There are options:
I could take the Trolley, whose tracks don't really take me to places I want/need to go. I guess I could take the trolley to the mall. Alright!! The Mall! I can't even remember the last time I went shopping at the mall.
I could take the bus and reach my destination in about 2 hours.
I could walk. Which I do. Fortunately I live downtown so I can walk the 1.3 miles to work, and a few other places. But most of the places I go are not within walking distance, places like: Trader Joe's, any fabric store, Mitsuwa for some good sushi, school, friends' houses. . .
I could get a bike for the longer distances. For curiosity, I looked into traveling to school by bike, which means no freeways. Google maps said it would take me 28 minutes to go 9.6 miles by car. There are those electric bikes that can go 20 mph, and last for about 18 miles, and recharge in about 4 hours, and of course a scooter, but either one is anywhere from $1000-4000. I don't have that kind of dough.
So I am stuck with my car, and I am stuck with my jeans, and my knobs, and my myspace page. Actually, I am going to visit that cancellation page one more time, just to see. . .
So besides burning my jeans and moving to New York, is there any hope?