Jezebel 
Enter your username and password.
-
posts about #ephemerist more → 
Hideous Kinky: Ever Been In A Bedroom So Nasty You Couldn't Have Sex?
New York, 1:11 PM
Tue Nov 10
73 posts in the last 24 hours
Tip your editors:
tips@jezebel.com
Editor-in-Chief:
Anna Holmes
Email | Twitter
Deputy Editor:
Dodai Stewart
Email | Twitter
Senior Contributing Editor:
Tracie Egan
Email | Twitter
Contributing Editors:
Anna North
Email | Twitter
Sadie Stein
Email | Twitter
Reporter:
Irin Carmon
Email
Editorial Assistant:
Margaret Hartmann
Email | Twitter
Contributors:
Jenna Sauers
Email
Rich Juzwiak
Email | Twitter
Lizzie Skurnick
Email
Interns:
Katy Kelleher
Twitter
| posts about #ephemerist more → |
Hideous Kinky: Ever Been In A Bedroom So Nasty You Couldn't Have Sex? |
Original material is licensed under a Creative Commons License permitting non-commercial sharing with attribution.
10/31/08
10/31/08
Like, professionally framed. And enormous. On the wall beside his bed.
I'm conflicted. The boy in question is amusing & appealing in an Alex P. Keaton sort of way, but this full-hearted, gung-ho, totally earnest RR love is disturbing to me. Also, I sincerely don't know if I can handle having sex under those watchful eyes, clearly judging me for being such a liberal abortion-loving pinko whore.
10/31/08
10/31/08
10/31/08
10/31/08
10/31/08
10/31/08
10/31/08
One of the better things about marriage is that at least I never have to walk into some stranger's mess any more, just to have sex. It's our mess now. I'd prefer it to be a lot cleaner all the time--I have a secret fantasy of moving into the Pottery Barn house--but since I do the cleaning, I'm limited by my own time and energy and I'm really just about out of both. Mr. JB is a disgusting slob when I'm not around, though. I tend to clutter, but I do not leave food around. He does. He also seems to have some kind of brain damage, because he doesn't apparently understand how garbage cans function.
We need a housekeeper.
10/31/08
Normal:
One or two stuffed animals that are tattered childhood keepsakes OR recent gifts from well-meaning but clueless friends. (One guy I dated had an alligator named Swampy. He really liked Swampy. He would do elaborate little "puppet shows" with Swampy to amuse me. It was hilarious. I kind of miss Swampy.)
Weird:
PILES AND PILES OF STUFFED ANIMALS ON DISPLAY.
10/31/08
10/31/08
10/31/08
When moved into my first apt in Brooklyn, I had a mattress on the floor that was right next to the baseboard heater. I guess I'm a bit of a bed hog and I once brought home some dude who was too nice to tell me half of his body was laying on top of the heater all night. Didn't hear from him again though.
10/31/08
10/31/08
10/31/08
10/31/08
Then I have the story of my room.
As an entry-level newspaper reporter I am not paid very well, so I live in the addition my parents built onto the house for my grandparents when they were still alive. This fact I'm not really concerned about.
I use my room both for sleeping and as a home office, so there's a lot of random stuff (notebooks, pens, tablets of paper, office supplies, cameras, soda cans in a box) in addition to the normal pile of dirty laundry that a 23-year-old who works like 65 hours a week accumulates.
The problem is that given the space in the bedroom, my parents decided to store some of my niece's toys in there and where go her toys, so she goes. So about half the room is a child's play area.
Hot.
10/31/08
10/31/08
Thank God, I don't drink like that anymore.
10/31/08
even so, a lid for every pot...or at least that is what i believe.
10/31/08
Oh, did I mention that I married him? Love really is blind.
10/31/08
10/31/08
I am a LOT tidier now that I have my own apartment. A lot, a lot, a lot. The only messes I have are mine. If anything's actually DIRTY, like dishes or linens that need to be washed, I take care of them, because they're mine and thus I don't resent taking care of it. Everything else is just my clutter and it's MY CLUTTER damnit.