Dear Katie,
Many will be confused as to why I am addressing you in a letter form and not directly with my characteristic green font. Well, I will tell them, for there is no need to tell you because you already know.
In a few short months, Katie and I will no longer be roommates. This is sad news. We are spilling tears from our eyes right now, and have nothing to wipe them away with because the flow is too strong to stop with anything but the most absorbent of tissue, and alas, we have none. Actually, I have no idea if rivers are pouring from Katie's eye sockets or if she is out of super bibulous (this is a word, and is probably being used incorrectly, but come on, bibulous!) Kleenex to dry those floods, because she is not here. Nor am I particularly driven to tears at this exact moment. I mean, if I were to stop to dwell on the misery that awaits me in parting with Katie as my roommate, the tears would indeed spill over onto my pajamas and soak me more than playing in the rain. And if Katie was here, and she also started thinking about how terribly sad it is going to be when we part roommate ways, then there would be a downpour from her tear ducts as well. So, in short, we could possibly be crying gusts out of our faces, yet we are not, because we are parted right now and are both thinking about other things. But there is a strong likely hood that if we were together, we'd be sobbing. I'd say a 1 in 7 chance. Or 2 in 16.
Katie and I have discussed what should become of this, our blog. Should we kill it? Granted, we have almost done just that in the past few months. Not because we have no heart for our readers and wish to deny their every hope and dream of having a blog everyday, but simply because we are lazy and Katie hates her job so much it robs her of the will to blog, and I have sympathy pains for her; therefore I cannot even remotely be expected to cheer her up enough for us to blog together, not even a measly two posts a week.
Even in light of this almost death of The Compounded, we decided no, we do not want to kill it. Not at all.
But, how, we asked, can a blog encircling the world of two roommates be expected to survive if the two are no longer roommates? It was this question that led us to our answer:
We shall . . . solo post.
Quiet down! Do not be outraged! Calm yourself! There is no need for hysterics! All shall be well! Life will not be flipped inside out and no longer make sense because of this. Order and chaos will battle for a time, but in the end, harmony will prevail. The Compounded will survive, and become more vibrant than it has ever been before. Take a moment, put aside your doubt and desire to curl up and die, and look at the possibilities:
1. Did we not once say that if one of us died, there would be more posts? Well, if it helps, think of this as though one of us is dead. I believe that association will put your mind at ease.
2. Also, if perhaps, there is a day that Katie feels horrible about her job, or I am feeling particularly pained for her, then there will then be the possibility of at least one person being able to pluck up enough motivation to blog without having to cheer the other half to do so.
3.You will love it.
4.Anyone who has major complaints may have some ice cream on us. (Not on us. Not really. I feel the need to clarify considering some of our most loyal readers tend to take things a tad too literally--Jeremy. We will purchase ice cream for you to eat to heal your woes, but it will be in a bowl, not on us. That is messy.)
5.Finally, Katie, I have a proposition: Though we will no longer be actual roommates, perhaps we can still refer to one another as such in this blog. I feel that connection will aid in everyone's healing in this time of change and out pouring of tears.
I think this ends my first (technically, second) solo post. I do feel a bit lonely without Katie at my side, even asleep near my side, in the other room, as sometimes it happens. I look over at her bed, and it is empty. Is this how it will feel in just three months? So lonesome without her? True, I don't think I will have an extra bed in my room then, but I will forever look over at the blank wall, though it might have some art on it at that time and not be so blank, and long for my dear friend and roommate. Katie-bug, I'm going to miss you.
Sincerely,
Amanda
I couldn't stop myself from adding 'sincerely' at the end after that last paragraph. But seriously, and I do mean it:
From,
Amanda
Also: we will be blogging together still before we move out, do not worry about that. And from time to time when we are separated. The end, for real.
Love,
Amanda
About Me
- Amanda and Katie
- We are roommates of more than a year. We like Taco Salad Night, Drink Treats, and hot boys of the right variation. We fight all the time, with lots of punching and kicking. We are very violent, and feel a good beating is what all roommates need. And if you are unaware, and do not like to figure things out by yourself, Katie's thoughts are in brown, Amanda's are in green, and everything else is in between.
4 comments:
Well, you're already tied with June on posts. So good job.
i want ice cream...
I want ice cream, too.
But alas, yesterday my doctor told me he actually looked at my lab reports. Which after the initial shock, I realized that if his office was indeed calling me that he had looked at the results, then there were less than stellar results that he had looked at (they have a policy of not calling if the results are normal) . . . and thus no ice cream and other caloric padding (literally and figuratively and literally regarding my figure as well).
But I still want ice cream.
But the sadness is indeed sad (regarding your "unroomying" not my lab results), and therefore I am going into seclusion for a week to contemplate what this will mean to me and to the world at large (for indeed it is large).
OK, so I'm going to Detroit and a wedding and a bunch of antique car museums and perhaps Canada for one afternoon, but "going into seclusion" sounds more dramatic and so let's just keep this fifth paragraph to ourselves.
See you in a week.
We, your public salute you both.
OK, would you believe I salute you both?
OK, I simply waved at you . . . actually I waved at your blog on my screen, but I think that shows some emotion. Yes I do.
Now get over it.
Of course if you need a hug, I'm here for you.
I'm not entirely heartless.
After all, I do have high blood pressure and now cholesterol and other issues, so obviously I do have a heart of some sort or none of these readings would be possible, don't' you know. (So let's keep this thirteenth paragraph to ourselves as well, hmmmm?)
So, like I said, get over it.
And may your blogging, albeit solo or in tandem, continue and be prolific.
There is a song by a guy named Mathhew West. The song is called 'The End'. Most of the song does not pertain to this blog entry, but at the very end of the song the lyrics go something like
"It's not the end. It's almost the end. I guess you could it's nearing the end. But it's not the end, because I'm singing this song and I decide when it's then end. And it's not the end. It's not the end. It's not the end. Ok, it's the end. The end."
Such a tragic blog! I will arrive with very absorbent tissue as soon as I get back from Detroit. (will that be too late?)
Post a Comment