The Good Life

(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)

In fifteen years, if neither Emilee nor I are married, we have this great life plan worked out. We're going to live in a shack in the Appalachians. And in our shack is nothing but two cots, a tv that only gets Style Network (because let's be honest, who wants to live without How Do I Look?), a microwave and a lifetime supply of instant oatmeal. And we're going to wear those dresses that button all the way down the front, but of course about five sizes to big. Occasionally, we'll wear wife beaters and shortalls instead. And when we're doing dishes or tending the garden, we'll wear doo rags. And we'll grow our hair out insanely long and it'll be all nasty because we never brush it or wash it. And every month we go into town to buy supplies on our mule-drawn buggy with hydraulics. And also in town, we'll advertise for our monthly hip hop dance party (we keep the sound system and strobe light and disco ball in the outhouse). And in the morning we eat oatmeal and later in the day we eat BLT's. We grow the tomato and lettuce in our garden and every month we buy a pig to slaughter. And the bread we make by grinding up the contents of the regular flavored oatmeal packets, because who eats the regular anyway?

So basically, now I'm really hoping that I don't get married, and I'll also try to keep Emilee from doing it.