The Internet of Things (not *that* one)

I'm going to share with you some excerpts from long-ago blog posts. The place: Spokane, Washington. More specifically, D's dad's friends' basement, where we'd been staying for a couple of months while looking for gainful employment after a very stressful separation from Girls and Boys Town of Nevada.

September 22, 2002:
"It's 51 degrees outside and I'm wearing shorts and sandals! Why? Because everything I own that is even remotely warm is behind boxes and boxes and taped securely so as not to get dusty. I don't even know where my socks are (or underwear, which, fortunately, I don't really need more of at this point) or the shoes I'd wear with long pants or skirts, if I had any of them... Thursday I'm going to storage to take out every stinking one of the wardrobe boxes. I hate to clutter up our room, but it's going to be cold soon and I'm not planning to risk exposure just to save a few square feet. But, mark my words, three weeks from now I'll be complaining about how cramped our room is because of all the boxes."

D and me in the gondola over the Spokane River. Even early September, I'm wearing one of Ken's shirts because I'm SICK of the week's worth of tops I'd packed, as we ended up staying for three months.

October 11, 2002:
"Woo hoo! Motherlode of britches today. :) Amy's shipment of slacks (for which I grossly underpaid her to ship) arrived today. Nine pair of pants including jeans (blue, black, light blue, white, rainbow-colored... okay, maybe not), slacks, a dress, a sweater and shorts that won't see the light of day until next year are now lying across my bed, just so I can look at them. I need never wear the same pair of pants again! (Assuming I die toward the beginning of the week after next.) Anyhoo... thanks, Amy!"

Pretty cool story, right, bro?

Well, here's something you need to know about Amy: At the time, she lived in NYC, and we had never met. We had become acquainted online, more specifically in a Yahoo group dedicated to Rockapella. We had been chatting for more than two years, and when she read in my "online journal" (the word "blog" wasn't very widely used yet) that I needed some warmer duds, and since she had just lost weight and "ingrown" stuff that was just my size... She offered what she had! It was awesome!

Okay, so let's fast-forward to the present day, or just a little before; let's say to some time the week before last, maybe? Amy doesn't live in NYC, anymore, but is still over there on that coast. We have still not met in person. I was going to say, "I don't even know if that group still exists," but, dang it... If you click here and you used to be an active part of that group, you'll see a lot of familiar screen names!

Anyhoo, as fortune would have it, Amy has once again lost enough weight not to be able to fit into her (smaller than that time) pants! And guess what? SHE SENT THEM TO ME AGAIN! That's right, MORE PANTS. I did pay fair shipping this time, so that's better. But, goodness, it was a crapload of slacks, jeggings, two dresses (the colorful one is my fave!), a couple of athletic pants, some crops, etc. So. Excite.

See, you might not have noticed this, but I don't have an outside-of-the-house job. I haven't had an excuse to buy nice pants in years, and so even though my grey slacks had all three fasteners that had broken (yes, beyond repair), I had just permanently secured the waistband with a safety pin, because... why should I waste money on slacks when I can wear fleece shorts 24/7, really? Same with my black slacks, on which the hem had come out (YES, BEYOND my desire to REPAIR), but they were kind of short to begin with, so I just left the unfinished bottom the way that it was? (Oh, and have I mentioned that Amy is even taller than I am, and so the pants are all tall, and so they actually, you know, cover my ankles if they're supposed to?!) I have other pants with stories I could share, but it just makes me look bad and you can rest assured that those pants have gone to a much better (or worse) place now.

So, first, thanks again, Amy! You're still awesome, and yay pants!

If someone ever tries to tell you that "internet-only" relationships don't qualify as real relationships, then you can testify by singing them this little diddy...