Rediscovered Backpack
Some assmunch posted a comment on my blog that's actually an ad for some rip-off scheme--at least I figure, as I didn't read the whole 500-word-long comment. Yo, creeps, stay off my blog. Maybe I'll start posting mad comments on strangers' blogs or even the blogs of good friends, pretending to be some made-up ignoramous...oh, wait, I have too much of a fulfilling life to do that. Well, no blog hoaxes or spam ad campaigns for me!
I found my favorite backpack recently. The day before Joe and I left for our trip I was ripping apart the big closet, looking for our air mattress. Our big closet is deep, with lots of wasted space and few shelves. Instead of trying to put in some organizational system, we just throw crap in the closet and pile more crap on top of that. There's one shelf real close to the ceiling that goes back maybe five feet--you really have to reach to get back there. I couldn't find the air mattress, so I started poking around on that impossible shelf when I caught a glimpse of cobalt blue canvass way in the back back. My precious backpack!
Right before going to college, I got my first backpack in years (in high school, I just carried my books around with a little purse on top because for some reason I thought backpacks were not cool). Mom ordered it from the L.L. Bean catalog for me. It was deep and wide, with generous storage space for thick collegiate texts. The backpack easily outlasted my collegiate carreer, whereupon I dropped out and undertook a few summers of working low-paying jobs in Wyoming and Colorado. Pretty much ever second of daylight I had off, me and the backpack were hiking up some mountain or down into a sage-lined gully. I hiked by myself a lot, and I always made sure to include my cobalt blue backpack in the panoramic photos I took at summits. The backpack even made it to the top of the Grand Teton and back.
It's not the most ideal backpack for day hikes; it hulks and bulges out like Quasimodo's hump. But I could carry a fleece jacket, gloves, a fat canteen of water, sunscreen, a hiking guide, pens and pencils, and a warm hat in it, no problem. I always felt prepared and protected with that backpack on.
A few years ago, I lost track of the backpack. It drove me nuts--how could I just loose it? I hadn't been using it much, as strolling to work with this huge, scuffed-up bulge of a backpack didn't seem very professional. But I still loved it and never wanted to get rid of it. Eventually I figured it was lost to me forever.
But no! It was crammed in the very back of the closet all along. There was a tiny notebook in this one slender zipper-pocket that I'd forgotten all about, a notebook that I used to write passiong thoughts and observations in. Maybe tomorrow you'll get to read some of them.
I found my favorite backpack recently. The day before Joe and I left for our trip I was ripping apart the big closet, looking for our air mattress. Our big closet is deep, with lots of wasted space and few shelves. Instead of trying to put in some organizational system, we just throw crap in the closet and pile more crap on top of that. There's one shelf real close to the ceiling that goes back maybe five feet--you really have to reach to get back there. I couldn't find the air mattress, so I started poking around on that impossible shelf when I caught a glimpse of cobalt blue canvass way in the back back. My precious backpack!
Right before going to college, I got my first backpack in years (in high school, I just carried my books around with a little purse on top because for some reason I thought backpacks were not cool). Mom ordered it from the L.L. Bean catalog for me. It was deep and wide, with generous storage space for thick collegiate texts. The backpack easily outlasted my collegiate carreer, whereupon I dropped out and undertook a few summers of working low-paying jobs in Wyoming and Colorado. Pretty much ever second of daylight I had off, me and the backpack were hiking up some mountain or down into a sage-lined gully. I hiked by myself a lot, and I always made sure to include my cobalt blue backpack in the panoramic photos I took at summits. The backpack even made it to the top of the Grand Teton and back.
It's not the most ideal backpack for day hikes; it hulks and bulges out like Quasimodo's hump. But I could carry a fleece jacket, gloves, a fat canteen of water, sunscreen, a hiking guide, pens and pencils, and a warm hat in it, no problem. I always felt prepared and protected with that backpack on.
A few years ago, I lost track of the backpack. It drove me nuts--how could I just loose it? I hadn't been using it much, as strolling to work with this huge, scuffed-up bulge of a backpack didn't seem very professional. But I still loved it and never wanted to get rid of it. Eventually I figured it was lost to me forever.
But no! It was crammed in the very back of the closet all along. There was a tiny notebook in this one slender zipper-pocket that I'd forgotten all about, a notebook that I used to write passiong thoughts and observations in. Maybe tomorrow you'll get to read some of them.
posted by Lefty at 8:23 AM
1 Comments:
they were using a script that was time-sensitive to post ads on blogs that had been recently updated with a new post. i was noticing within an hour or so i'd get hit with some really dumb pyrimid schemes and ads for stupid shit. looks like blogspot got wise to it and snuffed it out. i suspect that's one of the reasons they recently added that 'flag' feature on the navigator bars to help spot those sorts of accounts faster and wipe them out.
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