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Nocturnal E-Missions

You guys, I'm weird. *pause for horrified gasps*

I've never felt like I fit in. I've always been the weird kid. I got so used to rejection that I just learned to cut ties quickly, because lasting friendships are for the cool kids.

Then I grew up, and started making real friends. Like, the kind you can tell your secrets to, and instead of running off to tell everyone what a freak you are, they calmly sip their drink, lock eyes, and motherfucking one-up you.


I've come to realize, my friends have super powers. My GT friends, my meatspace friends, my friends from back in the day; they all went on to gain awesome super powers, and once again, I was left in the dust.

Until now.



It all started when Mr. Waffle and I returned home to Minnesota, broken and destitute. We had to get an apartment, we couldn't keep living with our families. We had no money for decorating, and the only furniture we owned were a television and a bed. Shortly after moving in, someone from one of our two buildings left a veritable treasure trove outside. A nightstand! A coffee table! Some rickety shelves! We claimed it as our own, and dragged it into our tiny home.

We were lent a car by one set of parents, and so the world became our oyster. With no money for entertainment, at night we scanned Craigslist's free section for anything to make our home place cozier. Hark, a couch seven blocks away! We walked over to check out the condition—a little college-smelly, but otherwise in great shape. We got the car, strapped it on top, and drove it home. Thus began our new hobby—nocturnal e-missions.


Then came the vanity table I have yet to finish. And the dresser that is now in the kitchen because there's no counter space. Plant stands, vases, lamps, whatever we could find to feather our nest.

We're doing better financially, now, but as Spring bursts forth and the days get longer, I find myself dreaming of our nighttime scavenger hunts. They have more intention now, and more purpose. The hunt is focused on vintage kitchenware and kitsch. I'd purchased a Pyrex mixing bowl at a vintage shop for $28. I didn't want to spend that much, but if I left it, I'd still be kicking myself. A chance visit to Goodwill this weekend provided me with another Pyrex mixing bowl, this one for $6.99. Score!!


I'm feeling the tingle to hit up garage sales and estate sales and make more midnight dumpster dives. Mr. Waffle has a term for it when I feel like I'm about to make a big score—Dumpster Tingles. Let me tell you, they paid off when I rescued a lonely but shapely metal-framed chair from the alleyway, to discover it's a mid-century classic valued at over $100 online (like these).

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