Broken Glass, Sticky Ass

In an effort to write at least two blog entries a week, I have decided to go back 10 years and see what I wrote about on October 8th of 2005.  I found this blog from the MySpace chronicles dated October 13th, 2005.  I think that date is close enough.

I remember when this happened. I was frustrated because I had just broke my coffee pot, a wine glass, and THEN spilled an entire bottle of diet coke on myself within the same hour as it fell from my hands, and onto the floor where it erupted into the air and  all over my stuff as it cascaded down my face, my white t-shirt, my kitchen cabinets, and the rest of the floor of my extremely efficient studio apartment in Hollywood.  

When annoying and awful things like this happed to me, I just keep trying to convince myself that it means something good was about about to come my way, which is why everything else is going haywire. This may have been written 10 years ago this week, but some things haven’t changed.  I still break things made of glass by accident, (or in the case of THIS most recent blog, totally and completely on purpose) I still drink coffee and diet coke daily, and I still have a PMA.  If you don’t know what that acronym stands for, chances are you probably don’t have one.

Also, remember Tom from MySpace? He used to be the shit. Now that dude is like the poor man’s Mark Zuckerberg, but with a lot more money than me.*starduster

(Originally posted October 13th, 2005)

Before I could do anything, I was covered in DC, and the 2 liter bottle that fell awkwardly to the floor had sprayed my entire bathroom with the same carbonated and aspartame full soft drink that will probably end up giving me stomach cancer.

I spent a good twenty minutes wiping off the sink, windexing the mirrors, and using my once white t-shirt to wipe down each one of the thirty-three items I have sitting on my makeshift sink basin that are now dripping in soda. This was the final straw.

I guess it seems funny now that I think about it, but just a half hour prior to this explosion of caffeine, I had knocked over my coffee carafe which shattered into 83 pieces on my carpet. Thank God I bought that dustbuster last month or I’d be picking out shards of glass from my feet, my hair, and my cat’s paws for weeks.

In an attempt to prevent any other forms breakage, I chose to finally clean the all the cups and mugs I have sitting next to my sink which also doubles as the “kitchen” sink…if I could call it that.

I had gotten 5 out of 6 glasses clean when I accidentally bumped my favorite wine goblet against the porcelain which hilariously shattered into the basin. Luckily it only cracked the glass and I was spared the tedious task of picking out pieces of from the sink.

But, by the time the diet coke erupted like a volcano in my apartment and sprayed a stream of soda which I just now realized reached the screen of my computer, I found myself  gulity of screaming “FUCK!”  as loud as I could as the soft drink dripped down my face like beads of sweat on a hot and humid summer day.

So knowing me and my belief that everything that happens is a way of life manifesting some other unseen reason, I couldn’t help but think that these three things are in some way connected and as silly as this may seem to non believers, I believe it means more than I just had a clumsy or unlucky night.

I’d like to believe that every shard of glass represents something glorious that is about to happen to me. I’d like to believe that this is life’s little way of preparing me for the next stage, and I’d like to believe that someone so un-accident prone like myself has 362 good days a year and maybe a few where I feel a little off-balance like tonight.

To be totally honest, I do believe those things and to be totally honest I have been laughing at myself all night as my once white, but now stained t-shirt hangs on the bathroom towel rack as I continue to find dried drops of diet coke in the oddest of places.

I just hope I got all those shards of glass up off the floor.

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