yesterday, brown mug smashed its way to ceramic heaven.
brown mug cost me $0.50 at the salvation army across the street from my former apartment on york st. the mug has accompanied me on moves from york street to the goody shop, from the goody shop to forest acres, from forest acres all the way to halifax and has even tagged along for various bring-your-own-drinking-devices parties and gatherings.
brown mug helped me through the grossest hours of the morning pre-work and class. it has met the lips of countless friends and a handful of significant others. brown mug always treated my friends and family well and held tight to whatever liquid goodness it was asked to briefly home.
brown mug was, sometimes, the most able body to stop tears and fears. armed with hot tea and a safety handle, brown mug never asked questions or gave me any lip if my hands were probably too unsteady to hold it.
brown mug was great! i was sure i was going to grow old and wrinkly with my little mug. i planned on living a long life with my super-duo relaxing team of mug and mets t-shirt. now, sans brown mug, it's time to let go of past assumptions and uneducated guesses. i think i'm now ready to accept any clean mug as my own. still, i will look back fondly at various appearances brown mug has made in my memory.
ahh, look at me enjoying that brown mug and its contents. what was it that night? i'm going to say rum. or perhaps i used brown mug as a reason not to drink my carlo from the bottle. who am i kidding - we always drank carlo for the bottle. unbeknownst to me, brown mug would have an untimely death. sigh.
ReplyDeleteon another note, that silver shirt was pretty cool. remember when i bought it? you bought a shiny shirt too and then cut it up.
i think its against blogger etiquette to have comments on this long.
and so it ends... now.
untimely is right! mom and i had a date at the economy shoe shop for lunch today and my coffee was delivered in a deliciously curvy, brown mug. i thought about nabbing it but i couldn't bring myself to replace such a beloved piece of me just yet.
ReplyDeleteand yes, i remember that silver shirt. i believe there was much convincing you to purchase it, no? you were afraid to look too stevie nicks and i think one can never look too stevie nicks. i cut my shirt up, too, and wore it to an indie pop night event with dj bones. after indie poo, i sat in said shirt (covered in cake goo) amidst man-friends at slaughterhouse's old apartment. ahhh, times.