The EIGHTH wonder of the world.

and it is definitely not a man, according to that cheesy K. Locke song.

Effin Bed Bath and effin Beyond DELIVERS.
How A-mazing.

Have I mentioned I live in the greatest city in the world? (for the moment)

Last night after a friend and I did not win lottery tickets to Wicked I decided to scope out the BBB and make a list of all the things I needed so I could come back this weekend (which I was supposed to do last week, but I decided my bed needing some TLC was more appealing than going out in the cold) with my trusty little cart (and look like the biggest asshat on the Upper West Side)

Sorry. I got side tracked. Someone pointed out my name plate was missing and I had to threaten people’s lives with eight plastic forks to get it back.

But anyway, I went there with the intention of looking because there was no way in hell I was toting anything larger than my purse uptown in the middle of rush hour. And in this moment of looking around, I came to the realization I am not now and nor will I ever be domesticated- type (surprise surprise). I was overwhelmed and distraught over picking out plastic bins that no one will probably ever see, for chrissake! Forget decorating a home people, I have way too much anxiety and there are way too many choices. My heart cannot handle the extra stress. So, there was a nice (way too short for me to date but acceptable looking) man who cracked a joke about making decisions and inquired about what I was looking for (and for the first time in a long time, I sensed flirting! This is what happens when I distance myself from the gay mafia. Baby steps, people, baby steps). This ingenious man was the one who informed me about the shipping phenomenon. (Thank you, Mr. Cutie- I should totally post a missed connection on craigslist, but you are too short. I am sorry) So now instead of bowling in the way chic Port Authority (yes, there is a bowling alley in Port Authority and yes, it is quite awesome) and instead of exploring downtown on a date, I will be waiting for my delivery of recockulously constructed plastic bins to organize my gigantorous room, where I will probably work on my Easter collage and jam out with Coeus.

But I also have to make a very emotionally stressful phone call, hopefully being the closure I need to regain emotional health, and I am not really one for the feelings talk, so I might have to procrastinate that (for let’s say, another 4 years would be good).

Anyway, now that I have jumped on the bandwagon of delivery service, I thought why not check out Fresh Direct and get even more L-A-Z-Y when my grocery store is 7 blocks away? Did I mention it is semi-uphill? What about the fact they don’t sell salt-n-pepper shakers? Those are good reasons, right?