dwell = porn

awwwww yeeah... sock it to me!

at the end of a long day of huffing litterbox fumes; contending with old, leaking windows; and the conundrum of how else, if at all, can our living room furniture be arranged, i wash up and retire to the aesthetic sanctity of our master bedroom. with its vaulted ceilings, clean lines, and muted greens and greys, this is the haven to which i retire... to seethe greedily over a magazine.

i'm not ogling famous beefcake or poring over a tome of sartorial splendor. through clenched teeth [don't wake the baby] i mutter to casey, "oh my god, will you look at this friggin' spread? shit, crap, and dammit, that's so awesome. grrr..." i slide my modern design magazine across our blanketed laps to he can get an eyeful of a fantastic home. on each delightfully matte page of the chunky issue, we drool and moan over fabulous prefabs, immaculate rehabs, and damn-sexy bathrooms... and then we jealously curse the homeowners. "fuckin' assholes," murmurs casey.

whooda thought a bathroom would be sexy? mmmmosaic tile... sssssizzling saarinen womb chairs! ahhhhlessi kitchen accessories!

got any unusual trigger-trippers?

my college experience in a nutshell

here is a picture that best depicts each year of my college experience. enjoy!


freshman year:
holy mackerel, can you say wasted? horrifying. note the standard anonymous cup of random booze featured prominently in true amateur fashion. i think the most appropriate caption to this would be, "boys! whee! drinkies! whee! having access to wardrobes that don't include smocked empire waists and lace peter pan collars! wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeaghagggppppppfffuugh..."






sophomore year: here i am posing with another dance teamer from my sorority before a football game. i was as pumped up this year as my hair [the broccoli bangs, paired with red lips, are still in effect, but only when dancing]. i was struggling to bring up my abysmal GPA, but hey! i was on the dance team and... not kicked out of my house. goody!





junior year: this was as good as it got. i would leave class to go take step aerobics, then motor my scooter across the river for two hour practices, then run five or six miles, then enjoy a hearty meal of a glass of milk and a red delicious apple with the marlboro girls on the sun porch outside my window at the house. i actually had the clout by then to not have the room with the beds that share the same wall as the toilets. i was so effing fit, i kept getting mistaken for a fieldhockey player. everyone was talking about them then because they were big ten champs or something and also happened to be all hot blonde... lesbians. [pause] at this time, i myself was single and dating loads of guys. life was swell.


senior year: not pictured. i was a prisoner. i was living in an apartment with the mean volleyball-playing blondes, miserably single with acne, and the captains of my dance team who were juniors jointly decided we were not going to nationals so i had given up on dance team as well as working out. i never even went to drown my sorrows in free alcohol i could legally drink at fraternity parties, either. i think i went home every weekend i could get a ride. blahhhh...

oh, the humanity!

mean college girls

preface: a few years ago, i was talking with one of my sorority sisters, and we got to discussing our house. she hit the nail on the head. in the most straight-forward, unapologetic yet unoffensive way, she said she hated it. she said everyone was so cruel, that they'd pick someone out of our friend-group and target them with abuse, and she doesn't feel anything positive about her affiliation anymore. at the time, i think i was a little hurt, partly because she and i were honestly really close [when we'd go to parties, we'd tell guys we were twins], but mainly because i knew that sometimes i jumped in line to pin the proverbial tail on the donkey... when i myself wasn't designated the ass. i tried weakly refuting her claims, but i couldn't really change her mind. she didn't seem mad about it anymore; she was over it. anyway, our friendship officially ended a little later in a huge, vicious argument about her sending me endless political propaganda emails, and me getting tired of deleting them. it was the ugliest, meanest phone argument ever, and that was that.

the other day, i logged on to our national website and got her email address. here's what i wrote, saved for posterity in the event it never reaches her inbox.

---

dear sister-in-the-bond,

hello, there. it feels like an extremely long time since we talked -- six years i think -- and i hope that you are enjoying your summer. how's matt doing? do you still have that beagle? any little babies?

you're probably wondering why i'm writing, but i woke up with an overwhelming compulsion to get in touch with you. over the course of a few days, talks i've had with family and my husband have made me think a lot about friendship. to make a long story short, my thoughts inevitably turned to our sorority experience, and i remembered what you'd said a few years back and how i disagreed with you at that time. i just wanted to tell you that i have thought a lot about it and i know now you were right. especially with our group of "friends", there existed a pretty overwhelming mean girls ethos. i think about how ruthlessly people picked on others and made people feel small. i think now about how that experience shaped me, how i interact with people, the way i treat people, and i have to say it was kinda scarring.

the saddest part is, looking back, you were probably the only person within that clique of people that i can honestly say was genuinely kind and giving of yourself. i realize this is probably worth nothing now, but i apologize if i jumped on the bitch bandwagon and was less than appreciative of your friendship. since the start of college, you and i had a natural affinity towards one another, and though we live really far apart now, i can't help but be frustrated that things fell apart. as i recall, we don't necessarily agree on all topics, but i thought we were pretty close friends with a lot of fun memories and i'm sad that our connection doesn't exist in any capacity anymore.

i'm not really sure how to close this email. i just feel very relieved to tell you that it's taken me a long time, but i now see the light. i do truly hope you're well and that we'll get in touch again sometime.

have a wonderful summer,

p

classmates

i've found the supreme timewaster... friggin' classmates. good lord, what a guilty pleasure. it's so addicting to just look people up and see what they've got going on. i have literally found myself jarring awake in the middle of the night, thinking, "mary! must... look up... mary.. and see what she's doingzzzzz...and danny! miss my buddy danny p..."

i've looked up college friends and high school friends, old chums and ex-beaux. it's fascinating. each time i've gone back to the site, they want me to fill out more, more, more about myself. some people have full bios, all questions answered, and are even brave enough to have recent photos posted.

it seems to me, however, that very few people ever seem to connect with anyone using the site. there is even a question asking why you've come to the site and most profiles i've peeped have the bashful "i don't even know how i got here" or "just curious" answers. heaven forbid anyone admit they actually want to reunite with high school friends. gawd! the database serves as a veritable lurker haven of sorts, like perez hilton for the layperson.

have you entered your profile on classmates? ever get in touch with any old friends? anyone reach you via the site?