Trailer Fantasy

If you are certain people you already know all of this information and you can totally skip this post.

Come to think of it, everyone can skip this post. It is not very interesting, after all, to hear about how dearly I wish I lived all by myself in a rusty single-wide trailer* somewhere very far from anything bright and shiny. Except for maybe stars.

My empire, people, is shabby and slapped-up ugly. It takes all I got to run it, and I do it badly most days. You could make a very good case, if you really knew me, that I ought to be evicted from my life and that all its constituent parts should be sold off to better people. Metaphorically speaking, there is a sign on my back. It says:

DESPERATELY SEEKING NEW MANAGEMENT. (Apply within, but be warned: she bites.)

Hence trailer fantasy. The one where I walk out of here and get on a bus and just go. I arrive Somewhere, USA and buy a modest trailer home somewhere far far away and not too cold (because I don't plan to be able to afford heat). Then I apply for the most flat, ordinary and uninteresting job I can find and on my off hours, I sit very still in the cold dark tube of my dwelling and patiently wait to die. The. end.

As far as I know, there is nothing illegal in this plan. And it's beautiful. It is beautiful because it is so simple.

I love this plan so much that I have already made gestures towards executing it. I have sold most of my stock and paid off the nagging bills. I have thrown out about half my clothing (did that last week while y'all weren't looking) and I finally let go of all those notebooks I was saving from college. You know, the ones with lectures notes from The Scarlet Letter in them. As if I needed to brush up on what happens to girls who choose the wrong man and shit. (hint: that's information I already have, thank you).

The flaw in this grand, simple plan is me.

I, Nina-swears a lot - would fuck it all to hell up. You know I would. I would get into my trailer home and I would be jubilant for about two days. Then I would get it into my head that I wanted to make curtains for it or some nonsense like that and so I would go out and join the newcomer's sewing circle and before you know it I would be part of a quilting bee and FREAKING OUT that I didn't get first place in the Abstract Division. And even before that, I would be wandering around out on a prairie or whatnot, screaming, "HEY! DOES ANYONE ELSE LIVE HERE! I LIKE ROCK CLIMBING! CAN ANYONE FIND ME SOME ROCKS!"

*dramatic pause*

"I LOVE EVERYONE! LET'S ALL BE FRIENDS!"

And then I would have a new friggin' empire full of mystery, drama, and complications. I'd buy a television and a microwave and some new jeans because I think they make my ass look good even though I know my ass is still my ass, here, there, and everywhere. Even in New York.

And that, internet, is all I have to say to you today.

Thank you for reading, and have a weekend.

* If you are the sort of person who cracks on people for living in trailers, you are banned from reading my blog until you get better manners. Trailers rock. Everyone knows that and it's time you learned it, too.