I must come to terms with myself, just admit defeat, and learn to let go. So I did just that today… sort’ve. Today marks the 100th day I cleaned my room. I jest, I really don’t have the foggiest of how many times I’ve cleaned my room since I’ve been here. The very few who have seen my room, know what I mean. So much so, a friend bought this… thing… which I proudly hang on my wall.
Fortunately, this room cleaning thing runs in the family. My dad has a knack for being messy yet highly organized, and so do I. Other traits we share? Storytelling, acute observational skills, good with numbers, businessmanshipness, sarcasm, humor, cookings, facial expressions and the ability to hold the attention of a crowd–something we both don’t really like to admit, but do when the time calls.
Oh, we also sometimes have a hard time letting go of clothes that hurt us if we wear them. I’m getting better at that part, although I’m currently wearing a pair of shorts now that I described as… well… I just can’t wait to get back home so I can take them off again. With that said, I also cleaned out my closet and got rid of several pairs of beloved and/or forgotten jeans. I also got rid of a bunch of sweaters I’ve had for a bunch of years that only took up space and precious hangers. I like the plastic ones, and I also try keeping the ones that shirts are originally hanging on. There’s a reason why stores take them back: they are quality.
Two trash bags full of good clothes await to be donated. So I’ve done my good deed for the year, leave me alone.
Also in 100 news, tonight was Monk‘s 100th episode. It’s not a show I’m a huge fan of, but since I’m not doing anything before Psych comes on, I’ll tune in. And it was a pretty good episode, also playing on the #100 theme. Those who aren’t keen on why 100 episodes is a big deal, allow me to explain. Syndication. However, there are exceptions, like the beloved Arrested Development and it’s 53 episodes.
It’s raining pretty hard outside. Must be Hanna knocking. I counted 100 rain drops. That was kinda hard to do.
Mmm… let’s see… what else crossed the 100 mark? What happened today in 1908? I don’t know and I don’t care right now.
100th big toe nail clipping (this year)? 100th piece of fried fish (this year)? 100th egg (this summer)? 100th movie I’ve seen since… 100 Girls? Actually no… I’ve seen way more movies since then, but that’s the first movie that came to mind with “100” in it.
OH YES! (Not related to 100) MY SCRIPT IS PRINTED and ready to be given to my uncle, whom I hope is still coming. Either way, it’s a really good feeling having that finished. Well, mostly. I’m sure revisions will come about. But still… WOOT!!
…and finally, and this is the big one… This is my 100th post. I wish I had technology that would burst streamers out of the screen of anyone reading this. It’s up to you to clean it up though. Sorry. But woot woot all the same, right?
I had to do one more post before I did this one. But that post was late anyway. Forever Lasts Tonight is one of my favorite poems I’ve written so far, and the other night I was thinking about it as I enjoyed the late summer night. If only I had committed it to memory, I would’ve recited it and made people feel all warm and gushy inside. Like Pop-Tart filling right out of the toaster. Wait, no… that’s actually painful… But I’m impatient and have a habit of causing pain to myself for the sake of extreme deliciousnesses. Extra cheesy gooey pizza is another criminal to my burning tongue. But oh! It is sooo good. I want some now, but seeing it’s 3:17am, the last pizza place just closed 18 minutes ago. That’s okay… I actually bought some Pop-Tarts real quick during a Monk commercial break. And you know what? It was my 100th Pop-Tart (this year). (Strangely, that might be true…)