My first Philly thunderstorm.

Why did I just assume it wouldn’t thunderstorm here?  Maybe because I’ve missed so many good ones in NY since I left.  Maybe because I’ve lived here almost two months and this is the first time I’m hearing thunder…alone…late at night. And that is not what rain sounds like on a window–it’s not supposed to sound like someone tapping out a telegraph! Did I mention thunderstorms sound a lot like scary noises outside that could be anything or anyone?

 

The essentials.

 

Everything scares me here, and I hate living alone.  Well, that’s not true.  I thought about trying to steal the apartment upstairs next lease term, but I realize I’d probably have to find a roommate…or steal money from my own savings to afford rent (I should have a smidgen of loan money left over, but not nearly enough to justify rent for a 2BR apartment every month).  I like being up at 3 a.m. and eating pie and keeping things neat on my own terms (dishes can sit for 2 days, but never any longer!) and screaming at the tv every time a Flyer breaks away with the puck (“Shoot! Shoot!”) and decorating my little bay window (or decorating at all, to my own damn liking).  I’m evidently a picky person, which is why I never got along with anyone I ever lived with.  (Should that make me nervous for my future?  Not yet, anyway.)

So I don’t really want a roommate, but I don’t want to be alone all the time anymore, either.  I guess I’m just stuck between a rock & a hard place, and I can either give up my complete independence and get a roommate or shutthefuckup about it. 😉

The most coincidentally awesome (and emotional) thing happened to me tonight when this wave of thunderstorm hit: I was on the phone with Stefan, and he was ‘ooh-ing’ and ‘ahh-ing’ at all of the ridiculous lightning & thunder that was going on back in Lindy.  I kept telling him to shut it, since I couldn’t be there and hated that I never got any of the good weather (suppose I can put my foot in my mouth now that I’m sleeping with a gun in my bed, huh?) and all he says is, “I wish you were here right now.”  (Don’t worry, it wasn’t in a mushy lovey-dovey way, it was like, “This is SO COOL, I wish you were here to witness it with me!”)  With that, a notification pops up on my Facebook that says Joana has commented on and tagged me in a video.  It’s a 2 and a half minute video of lightning in NYC, and she writes, “wish you were here, Lin.”  The two people I am my most comfortable around shared the same sentiment with me at the same exact time from two different counties in NY.  I know it’s lame, but I’m so far away, and so disconnected from everything, that I almost got choked up over it.

Now I will clean up all of my statistics crap lying around (midterm tomorrow @ 2 pm!), lay out my gun, my body pillow (and maybe Stefan’s shirt), and try to ignore the feeling I had when I was seven years old and used to sit at the bottom of the stairs to my parents’ bedroom trying to make noise that sounded accidental so they would hear that I was there (but trying to be brave) and invite me to sleep in their bed.

Good night, world.  Oh, and statistics midterm?  Let’s do this.
XOXO

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