...let the purge begin!!...
Discount Cheese Buy of the Week: Danish Cream Cheese Spread w/ Hazelnuts and RUM!!
Last night at Superstore, I bought myself some flowers. I don't usually do this, and when I do I usually get coloured ones, but I'm into the bare, pristine look these days, so I went for the white ones with very green stems. They looked a little taken aback, no, I'd go so far as to say they looked downright pissed off when I took them out of their paper wrappings and introduced them to their new surroundings.
"What do you think we are, miracle workers or something?" they screamed when I told them their job was to make the place look elegant and clean.
"Just do what you can, OK?" I implored them.
"But we're just a lousy $6.99 bunch of cheap carnations!!!" they howled. Frankly speaking, I had a situation on my hands. Some looked suicidal; others were sarcastic. One particularly obnoxious flower snickered and said mockingly under his breath, "Elegant! She wants 'elegant'!" Well, I just wasn't in the mood. Lucky for me, I'm a teacher; I know how to deal with attitude. Casually but swiftly, I moved in and snapped off his anthers.
"Just DO IT," I growled, waving his flower balls over my head menacingly, "OR I'LL LINE YOU UP ONE BY ONE AND DESTROY YOU!!" Then, in the manner of an insincere bully-turned -sudden-best-friend, I pointed to the vase of water and shook the packet of nutritive powder in their stupid flower faces. "I've got treats for you!" I chanted enticingly. That shut 'em up, let me tell you. So now they sit on my coffee and dining room tables, blinking back carnation tears, and bravely doing what they can to bring some sense of, I don't know, purity to my life. That they are giving their lives for this thankless task is indeed noble: All those promises I made them of that big Garden in the Sky better be true, that's all I can say.
But I'm pleased to report the clear-out has begun. An old student of mine is living with a friend who has a toddler, and I asked her if they wanted some children's books.
"How many?" she inquired, and I was honest: "Five boxes full." But I guess hearing the words "five boxes" and actually seeing five boxes are two quite different things, because the friend looked TOTALLY taken aback when she saw them all.
"Whoa," she said, "THAT MANY??" She stared at them with a "what the hell am I going to do with all those??" expression. Luckily, I had a solution for her.
"Would you like a bookcase for them?" I asked, panting with eagerness, "We have several in the basement!" Before she could give me an answer, I raced downstairs and hauled one up. "Here, take it, take it!!" I said, thrusting it towards her. Stunned, she silently took it, looking uncomfortable, like if she didn't accept the thing Crazy Lady would snap and crush her to death with books.
"Are you moving or something?" she asked, staring uneasily at the mountains of boxes we have stacked in our hallway.
"No," I said, and, leaning towards her, whispered confidentially, "I live with a pack rat."
"Oh, I see" she said politely, trying to look like she understood. But she didn't; no-one does. It was very sweet and nice that she pretended to get it, though. She kept thanking me for everything, which was totally embarrassing, because, let's face it, she was doing me the favour.
So yes, the clear-out has begun. Most of the work has been tedious, some of it downright discouraging. There was a moment of total exasperation (read: total meltdown) when boxes of Christmas decorations Mr. IQ said he took to the thrift store three months ago were found hidden in a corner. And the plastic blow-up cow I found beside several empty liquor bottles was definitely an unhappy moment I wouldn't wish to relive. (What's been going on down there, anyway?) Perhaps because she's been gated out of approximately 70% of the house for her own safety, Baby Fangs has gotten uncharacteristically cranky this week, going around shaking her fists and looking like an angry Clarence Darrow. THIS certainly hasn't served to help clear any of the tension. In moments of utter panic and misery I escape to the living room (spotless), adjacent to the dining room (immaculate), stare at my flowers and dream of bright, sunny, empty rooms with clean white curtains blowing gently in the breeze. One positive thing I will take with me from all this: Any lust I may have had for material things has definitely been curbed. Honestly, were I to spend the rest of my days in a room with just a bed, a CD player/radio and a small table for my library book, I would be content. Really, that's true. Well, it would be true if I didn't have kids.
But for now I have booze-soaked cheese to get drunk on. What else could a girl wish for? By the way, be sure and tune in tomorrow for The Fight Over the Santa Claus Trophy!
P.S.: Mr. IQ read this over, and wishes to underline the fact that he "DID NOT have sexual relations with that bovine, Ms. Sukeybelle." Sure, buddy. Whatever you say.
P.P.S: Of COURSE he didn't have sexual relations with the blow-up cow. That's just me trying to bring some levity to this whole absurd situation. If I can poke a little fun at him, then I won't kill him. He understands that, and I hope you do too.
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8 comments:
Maybe she was in the moooo'd and he was udderly enchanted
Yay for purging! I do not envy you the process, but I'll look forward to the end of it all for you.
And thanks for your thoughts of me last weekend. Means a lot to me, even if we've never met.
...speaking of blow-up dolls, I think there might still be a *ahem* doll given to my hubby for his bachelor party that's lurking in a closet somewhere... at least I know she's a tramp! LOL
Well, THERE'S your problem. You bought carnations! Lilies and alstromerias are not NEARLY as sarcastic and rude.
i was at superstore yesterday and i didn't see ANY discount cheese.
Sarcastic carnations?? I'll try to stay away from them thanks for the tip. I wonder how daisies are, or lilies...I don't think I've come across any sarcastic ones, maybe a little patronizing but not sarcastic.
I wonder what it's like to work in a greenhouse with flowers like that. :)
Glad the purging is coming together!
OK, you can let the blow-up cow pass, but if you find an anatomically correct blow-up sheep (a la http://muttonbone.com/store.html), well, then I don't know what you should do. But you should definitely do something.
Actually, back when Mr IQ and I were splitting that apartment on Furby, we did have one of those sheep (I got it from my cousin's husband; he worked for a record company and it was a promo gimmick for a NOFX album). I never had sexual relations with the sheep, and to my knowledge neither did Mr IQ. Unfortunately the sheep died suddenly when we had several visitors, including El Dopa, and the latter was demonstrating his marital arts prowess and burst the toy. Oh well, no great loss (if it had survived, you'd probably be throwing it out around now anyway).
I couldn't comment on your UTI post.....
wanted to tell you that I had that problem for several years and I went to see an old old doc friend and he gave me some super powerful antibiotic that I'd never heard of before -- and I never got another one. Sorry, I think it was Keflex or somthing like that.
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