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Polas and Richard

Last weekend I loaded my camera with my treasured third-to-last pack of Polaroid film and walked down to the beach. I took all ten frames, carried them carefully back to my apartment, and looked through them over and over. The next day I scanned them in at work, and as I booted up the internet, I saw that something called The Impossible Project has accomplished its goal of creating a replacement for Polaroid film.

And it was good.

I keep running into Richard, I mean, he does live in the building next door. I shouldn't be surprised. I guess I'm not all that surprised, I'm just annoyed. I like my apartment. I think he should move, out of deference to my annoyance. He's only lived here for eight years, and heaven forbid I just get over it, already.

Every time I see him on the street, he stares at my chest, and I am reminded once again why we broke up. Because he has no manners, and he is full of shit.

8:54 a.m. - 2009-07-26

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