Sponsor me in the 2005 MS Walk! Why? Read here.
Ahh�So Raven was writing about radiators in the Boston fall. I miss my radiator. For seven years, I lived with those temperamental and sometimes noisy boxes of heat. The Condo has no such thing. Too bad. I�ve lost a source of comfort.
When your clothes aren�t quite dry, the radiator becomes an instant clothes rack. When they are dry and the air is cold, the radiator will happily heat your undies while you�re in the shower. And your towel. And, as Raven pointed out, your slippers. In over-dry air, a bowl of water strategically placed on one becomes an instant humidifier. And then there are the joys of the Radiator Seat.
The Artboy�s kitchen had a strategically placed radiator that functioned as the favorite seat in the house. The kitchen was the place to be regardless. Countless hours we spent there, doing everything and nothing.
Jim recorded the happenings in there one night on his mini disc player, then burned the recording onto CD�s for us. Odd to listen to it now. Both Glen and Melissa are on there, voices we�ll never hear alive again. Of course, Glen and I are having a conversation in the corner about anal sex, but beggars can�t be choosers when it comes to preserving dead friends�
There was a giant white board on the wall, just above the radiator. After the Artboy and I made up one night, he wrote a giant message to the House, declaring that I�d agreed to be his girlfriend again for all to see. I attempted to recreate in Microsoft Paint the message that showed up on it when there was broken glass in the trash can:
My computer drawing skills leave much to be desired. Or perhaps it�s just that I haven�t acquired the penis-drawing skills the Artboy and his roommates had.
The kitchen was the site of Glen and the Artboy�s infamous cookie baking escapade, the one that left me stoned for three days. It was where I watched Metal Bob spend an entire party trying to talky Thirsty Kirsty into his bed, only to pass out and lose her to Chad. She and Chad had sex against the mirror in Scotty K�s bedroom, leaving butt prints on the glass as evidence, but thankfully, that wasn�t in the kitchen�It was where I watched Scott throw one of Melissa�s shoes out the window into the backyard and then wet down and freeze the other one while she was outside looking for it, in an effort to keep her from leaving. It was where I watched Adam cook, earning both his reputation for eggathons and his nickname of Beeftorch. It was, of course, the site of the now-famous Evening of Complete Unadulterated Non-Terseness. It was where life in the House happened. And it was the home of the world�s most perfect radiator.
Thanks, Raven, for bringing that back to me today. In the midst of all the other things going on, I needed that warmth.
---------------------------------------------
Something to say about this entry?
Add your comments here (0 people have spoken already)
< So I guess it's not the meds... | Artboy and Erect Nipples. Though not at the same time >
