if i believed in Karma

then Monday morning was my comeuppance for my lack of object integrity...or it's just a classic testament to what a frikkin bonehead I am.

Nevertheless, my Monday morning was the suck.


So yeah, I have a big, bad, crush on my vintage eyewear. They are fashion, function, and damn original. I like my glasses probably way more than normal people....and Monday morning I learned just how far I would go for a pair of wayward specs.


It goes like this:


Sunday night Mikillah called to let me that she would be snowed in in Cheyenne. I figured that I would be cool and to do a little impromptu straightening of our shared space. I didn't do the floors or anything, but I did just enough to say "Look! I maintained homeostasis...and I'm sorry I ate all of your cookies."

After my obligacleansing, I went off to my room to embark upon a four-hour homework bender. I took a break to smoke and watch some Vh1 then somehow time warped to 2:30 on the couch snoring. My contacts were stuck to bottom lids so I dragged ass into the bathroom and went fumbling for my glasses only to notice that they weren't in their neat little red case where they're supposed to be living. They were nowhere to be fn found.

It's 2:30 in the morning and I'm tearing through the freshly 'straightened' apartment looking for my glasses, which are seemed to have vaporized. By the time 3 rolls in around my brain starts to fire off crazy scenarios, Could they have fallen down the drain? Could I have been wearing them all along and not realized it? Could someone have broken in and stolen only my glasses?

Then something makes perfect sense…

They would have had to have thrown themselves into the bathroom thrashcan. It sits right at the edge of the sink, it was easily a great explanation. They were in the bathroom trash...that I just escorted to the dumpster...in a dark alley...where it has been snowing for 10 hours since...fuck.

Monday morning I woke up around 7:00 and tried to think of how I could dumpster dive solo without dying. Or actually having to do it.

I went to shake off my car (which was under about four inches of snow) and prepared to initiate trasher sequence.

I just kind of reasoned that there was no way to look cool dumpster-diving. If I wanted my specs back I was going to have to fn do it. All connotations about skinny girls in cars with broken windshields in Felony Flats driving up to strange dumpsters aside.

So anyway, I don't know if it was because I was standing on top of my car and used an ice scraper instead of diving face first into the squish, or if it was because I looked like a snoopy little ninja in my hood and shades, but I managed to upset my a couple of my neighbors.

Some Mom's were out starting their cars and stared at me then one of them returned with a strapping fellow of whom I figured would be sympathetic to my predicament. I wasn't so lucky. Mr. Alleyafficiando swaggers up to me on my car perch and says "Soooo uhhh whuddoo we got goin on here?"

I tried to be as charming as I could given the circumstances and made up a sentence that contained "glasses" "garbage" and "mistake."

He leaned over to take a peek at the lipstick tubes and kleenex that I was stirring with my ice scraper while holding the dumpster lid open with my other hand, balancing on the edge of wet car hood, looking like the cherry on top of a white trash salad, and says: "Huh. I don't seem 'em."

Yeah. Me either.

I found my glasses in the windowsill right after I got out of the shower.

Everything else about my week has been rad...nothing like sacrificing yourself on the alter of humility.