Not much is happening in my life is really bloggworthy. And since I am an unimaginative and banal 20 year old…I am not going to go and make some entertaining shit up. This is all you’re gonna get people.
Last night after visiting with Rachel, Rachel, Jessie and I decided to check out the trash piles on Anthony. Now, you may be asking yourself, “Ed, have you hit rock bottom?”
And my answer would be, “No?!?”
So we engaged in some frenetic dumpster diving (actually there wasn’t any dumpster, it was just in piles on the curb) and I slowly, but surely, enjoyed myself. When Rachel and I were dating, it really grossed me out when she would dig through other people’s trash—I most objected to her wearing unwashed clothes she got from “Pier 1” (as she nicknamed her scavenging habits) and picking up food items. Even though they were in unopened cans or unopened plastic bags, I thought this was hella gross. But slowly, my inhibitions to dumpster diving were worn away last night.
So basically I find myself wearing an elephant print sarong (Bitch please, I would not wear that on my own accord, Jessie put it on me), and holding a table lamp with the cord twisted around my waist, some CD jewel cases, and some thank you notes that I thought I could use. The thank you notes ended up having a graduation theme print embossed on them, so it looks like I will have to wait 3 years to be able to use those.
But I was totally enjoying this very liberating experience until Natalie drives by (she was visiting her man, who also lives on Anthony) and I felt totally embarrassed. Here I was bedecked with a stranger’s garbage and fraternizing with gypsies. (Jessie and Rachel were both wearing dresses and colorful bandanas). But what is there really to be embarrassed about? Rachel and Jessie kick ass—even if they are too Bohemian for me sometimes.
So the moral of this story is: I need to care less about what others think. And I want to become a hippy. Yes, that is right. I want to use other people’s discarded consumer items.
Give me your kitsch.