The power of the internets

Well, this is the one hundredth post on this blog.  It seemed kind of momentous to me, so I wanted to wait until I had something spectacular to say before I got around to writing it.  Luckily, something spectacular happened yesterday.

Maybe you'll remember a few months back when I wrote about receiving someone else's subscription to Entertainment Weekly magazine?  That person was named Marcus Mungiole.  I was wondering why we were receiving his magazine every week, suddenly, after living in that apartment for 3 1/2 years.  I gave him the old half-hearted Google search, which turned up nothing, so that was that.  Well, whom should I get an email from this weekend but Mr. Mungiole himself! 

It seems he stumbled upon the post I wrote about him, and it made him laugh.  I couldn't believe it!  Fortunately, he was not upset about the fact that I went on and on questioning his identity for three paragraphs.  He verified that he was a previous tenant in our old apartment about 10 years ago, and would you believe that the SAME harpy neighbor was yelling at him even way back then?  Amazing!  So Marcus and I are now email buddies, and he was kind enough to forgive me for not following through with my promise to turn over back issues of his magazines since they were recycled during The Great Move of 2010.

That, my friends, is the power of the internets!  And in honor of this auspicious occasion, I would like to leave you with one of my favorite poems.  You all know it- just be impressed I was able to refrain from posting it this long.

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

-Robert Frost

That'll teach me to avoid the whites.

Today I finally found the jeans I've been looking for!  And no, I wasn't shopping.  I had ordered 2 pairs of jeans off of a Groupon deal at the end of November.  I was pretty excited about them since they ended up being only $24 each, and I got in on the deal right before it expired.  The jeans took about a week to ship, but during that week we moved apartments and I went out of town.  My poor roommate was overwhelmed with everything going on, and, though she did tell me the jeans had arrived, she stashed them someplace so secure and secret that neither of us could figure out where they were once we started unpacking from the move.

Cut to: almost two months later.  Pretty much all the boxes have been unpacked.  The only ones left are the ones from the garage that are stacked in a storage closet.  I figured once I tackled those, surely I'd find the missing jeans package.  There was no where else to look!  So I thought.

Today I decided would be a good day to get some laundry done.  I was home when no one else in the building was, which meant no fighting over the one and only washer and dryer.  I was so optimistic about the amount of laundry I could do that I even tackled a load of whites.  I hate doing the whites because they're made up of a lot of little things like washcloths and socks and they're a pain to fold up and put away.  I'll usually do three loads of darks and towels before I'll get around to the dreaded whites.  Anyway, I schlepped my linen bag of white laundry out to the machine.  I unloaded everything into it and then I noticed a plastic bag at the bottom.  At first I thought it was a bag of dirty clothes that I had forgotten to unpack from a trip.  But then eureka!  It was the missing jeans!  So I guess sometimes adults still get rewards for doing chores?

This poem is not really related to any of the above, but it is kind of related to clothes, and I like it.

Old Coat

Dressed in an old coat I lumber
Down a street in the East Village, time itself

Whistling up my ass and looking to punish me
For all the undone business I have walked away from,

And I think I might have stayed
In that last tower by the ocean,

The one I built with my hands and furnished
Using funds which came to me at nightfall, in a windfall....

Just ahead of me, under the telephone wires
On this long lane of troubles, I notice a gathering

Of viciously insane criminals I'll have to pass
Getting to the end of this long block in eternity.

There's nothing between us. Good
I look so dangerous in this coat.

-Liam Rector