No Time

There is no time to blog.

There is time for South Beach.

photo 1

There is time for Peanut Butter.  37 hours and that is what is left.  #WTF


There is time for another t-shirt.

Still haven’t figured out how to fit blogging into my life.

When I do, please come back and read.  I’ll share this trip’s detials

photo 2

Until then I will be blogging from a cardboard box…

Down to one… and still homeless.


Spam, Scam, & Punctuation

I hate you, Craigslist.

No, not because of the Craigslist killer, I don’t watch Lifetime.  I don’t do sappy movies.  I realize the keyword here folks is killer, I still don’t do Lifetime.

Remember when I was homeless? It is still happening.

I know hate is a strong word, at the moment I have strong feelings.

My present apartment hunt is my only experience with Craigslist.  I am tremendously judgmental, nonetheless first impressions are important.  Craigslist you need to up your game.

I simply cannot grasp…

Why do people post a listing and then never respond to the inquiry?

How hard is it to post a picture?  We all know you Instagrammed your lunch. So why don’t you show me that newly renovated townhouse with the washer and dryer that iron and folds my clothes?

Then there is the posting that isn’t real.  We will call it spam.  Spam now stands for Scamming People, Aggravating Me Many.

Location matters people.  Don’t post your available apartment located in another state.  Sweet Brown.

The ultimate scam.  The response to an inquiry indicating that you need a tenant because you and your husband are living in a hut, helping fight and find a cure for diseases in a third world country.  Scam – Screwing common-folk, absolutely malicious.

What about the name?  Does Craig not own the list?  Should it not be Craig’s List? Where is the apostrophe?  I know, I know, I should never comment on any sort of punctuation.  I just think I might be right on this one.



Destination Unknown

I applied for a passport today…finally.

I still only have two functioning light bulbs in my bathroom and am about to be homeless, but in four to six weeks I’ll have a passport.  Life is good.

One section of the passport application can be found below.

 Screen shot 2013-04-03 at 8.36.21 PM


I left it blank.  I have no travel plans.  I have little direction in life, why would my travel itinerary or lack there of, be any different?  The marriage question… left that blank too.  Again that would mean I need a plan in life, far from that happening.

I applied for my passport at the library.  While waiting I spent $10.  I bought 5 books, each only $2 I couldn’t pass that up.  One book I picked up is written by Bill McKibben, best selling author of Eaarth.  The fact alone on the cover was enough to sell me.  The book will be discussed on a Saturday night filled with beverages and documentaries… maybe in Europe.

I then spent $135 on my passport.

Who spends $145 at the library?  I always thought the library was free entertainment.  At most you would spend 35 cents because your overdue library book was lost behind the couch for the last three years?

$145… and an unknown destination.

Oh I changed into my running clothes before leaving work.  20 mph winds and 4 hours later I am still wearing those clothes and have yet to run.  I don’t consider them to be dirty.  I plan to repack this exact outfit for tomorrow and leave the excuses at home.

Suggestions… Where should I go first?

Down to Two

Two working light bulbs above my bathroom sink.


I am not concerned; after all I am only living here two more months. Wow, 4 years down, two months left.  (Typing that might be worse than saying it – deep breaths.)

Life changes, I’ll embrace it eventually.  Until then I will ponder life’s insignificant challenges, allowing me to refrain from overanalyzing what the future holds.

Maybe I should unscrew one of the working bulbs, and then when that burns out I can use the other.  That would require preparation; I’d rather take my chances.

Minimal light above the bathroom sink is actually pretty nice.  Looking too closely at myself is often rather frightening.  After all my bathroom has another light and I have plenty of candles.  I just can’t see to appropriately pluck my eyebrows or pick my countless zits.

I do realize Lowe’s or Home Depot sells these light bulbs, but why bother? I doubt after four years I am getting my security deposit back, so my apartment complex can put those funds towards light bulbs. Purchasing some drywall putty for the holes might also be a security deposit well spent. The holes aren’t from my anger issues, the results of that can be found on my muffin-top – thank you binge eating.

The holes are from my one consistent relationship in the last four years.  Enter my tool kit and my ability to channel my inner-Bob Villa. My tool kit and I have established a mutual appreciation.  I wish I could tell you I usually get it right on the first try, but in my true fashion I am make irrational decisions and typically end up with my level indicating success after four or five attempts with the hammer and nail(s). Technically I most likely channel my inner-Tim the ToolMan Taylor more often. I prefer it that anyway.  JTT anyone?


I don’t believe in signs or lame quotes expressing how everything happens for a reason.  Consequently I will soon be living in the dark, and then I will be homeless. I am not, however taking these blown light bulbs as a sign.  I am continuing to follow one of my blog sharing appropriate life mottos: