Tomatoes. The fruit of the gods I tell you. There is nothing like sliced tomato on some toast with mayonnaise. I like to call it a T since it's really a BLT without the B or the L. This is my second T of the morning. Hopefully it will be my last otherwise I'm going to start thinking there's something wrong with me.
I'm realizing that I'm a female version of a bachelor. A bachelorette you say? No. A bachelorette wouldn't find herself sitting in her kitchenette in her underwear and sports bra eating her second T of the day writing in her blog. I imagine bachelorettes have it more together than this. They do things like wear make up on the weekends and find air fresheners to make their homes smell pretty. Hell, they wear perfume to make themselves smell pretty. They shave their legs and do their hair and get manicures and drink martinis. They decorate their little bachelorette apartments with pictures and vases and go shopping for cute bachelorette clothes that they wear to attract bachelors.
I have been known to do one or two or maybe even three of the above stated activities (minus the manicure, stay away from my hands vietnamese ladies), but as I look around my home, I'm seeing more and more that it doesn't resonate an essence of "a woman's touch" but more of "a woman lives here, but she doesn't really know what to do with it". I do happen to have a plethora of art in my posession. Partially because I happen to have artist friends who hook me up big time with their creations. Partially because I used to live in a 1600 square foot bachelor pad that had nothing on the walls whatsoever, so I made the best of the situation and conjured what little woman's touch I had within and did my best to make the place not look like a beige cave. I succeeded in certain areas of the home, but definitely not all. 1600 square feet is a lot of room to decorate. Luckily I was kicked out of that suburban nightmare and I didn't hesitate to bring all of my art/decor with me. Now I'm in a quarter of the space I once had, so covering the walls with pictures and frames wasn't a difficult task to do.
So I have a lot of art. But do you know what I don't have a lot of? Furniture. And here's where I start thinking I'm really a female version of a bachelor. I don't have a bed. I have a mattress. I don't have a couch, I have a floor. And right now I'm sitting at the first kitchen table I've ever had, in my life. Ever. And do you know how I got what little furniture I have? Kerin everyone. It wasn't even my doing. Kerin hooked me up big time with a mattress to sleep on, a table to eat at, and a chair to throw my purse, jacket, and what not on when I walk in the door. Kerin is the one who helped me figure out where to put the little frames and candles I ended up with. She's the one who had the idea of using the mantle above my little fireplace as a spot to display some obscure pieces of Carly art that are hard to hang. She's the one who went out of her way to buy me two extra panels of curtains so I didn't have bare windows staring at me all the time. Really, this place looks as decorated as it does because of her, not because of me. And I'm grateful for this because at the end of the day I really am a girl. I'm just not one who flourishes in the homemaker department.
So anyway, I sleep on a mattress, and I have a sink full of dirty dishes and a corner in my kitchen that contains an overflowing garbage can. I'm in my underwear on the internet on a Sunday morning with no plans except to maybe go for a run eventually. No shopping, no hair appointment, no martini. I live off of tomatoes, Pasta Sides, and wine. I really need to clean my bathroom, but probably won't any time soon. And my very first kitchen table is covered with mail that I should really go through, but again, probably won't because today is lazy Sunday folks. And I'm a girl bachelor with no plans. It's going to be glorious.
I think I'm going to call it quits on eating a third T. But I might think about putting on some clothes...