Imitations on Cleaning Philosophy
Since I had such a long, detailed, well-thought out post yesterday, I feel that I should even things out by talking about stupid stuff like my love for The Golden Girls or VH1 specials or old Dukes of Hazzard memories. Trouble is, I can't think of anything particularly slacker-y to talk about. Sorry.
But I can talk about my family, because they are coming to visit this weekend. My mom, my grandmom, my uncle and aunt and a couple of cousins have picked this weekend to come to my tiny little apartment and comiserate, which you know, makes perfect sense in that I am the only one in the family not to live in a boda fide free standing house and I have a kitchen that Fat Albert could barely turn around in. My mom will actually be here tonight. So I am cleaning feverishly, cursing my boyfriend for eating crumby foods, and fighting with a toilet that has a tendency to overflow at the most inopportune times. It is not fun. I don't really like to clean at all. I would much rather be reading or watching TV which is what I usually do at this time (City Confidential is on right now by the way), but instead, I am exerting my femininity and doing some power vaccuuming. This is sad.
And here's the really sad thing about it. No matter how smart you are, no matter how many books you write, no matter what, you still have to clean up after yourself. I know, I know, you could get a maid, but seriously, there are some little things that you just have to do. Me, I have this uncanny ability to plumb (or however you would say "to fix a toilet"). I can fix just about anything to do with a toilet. You may say, "She's lying." It's true. The other morning I awoke to the scared screams of my boyfriend who I found standing on top of the overflowing toilet grasping towels and preparinng for Heart Attack #1. So I came in and, with my trusty dusty plunger, took care of business. He was very happy, to say the least. But to return to my original argument, you can't escape things like that. This "real world" which I have come to discuss lately is a tricky bastard, and clings to you at every step. You may try to retreat into literature and thought and the Russian language even (not naming any names, of course), but it hangs onto you, always reminding you that its there, and that you are a part of it. Sadly, I have come to realize that this incessant cleaning, these tedious errands, this STUFF, is the very stuff of life. Isn't it wierd how tied to the world we humans are? You can't even forsake the thing if you wanted to. It's wierd.
Which brings me to something I wanted to write about yesterday but didn't get around to. Matt and I rented Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind on Tuesday night, and let me tell you, everyone should see this. This was the most real, most perfect love story I have ever seen played out on film (plus the Pope quote in the title was pretty rockin' as I have just recently read Essay on Man). It was nothing short of amazing. It is the first film that I have ever seen to actually grasp the everyday beauty of a relationship, everything from eating at a favorite restaurant to eating Chinese take out in front of the TV, to laying in bed together. You should see it, if you haven't already. In fact, Matt and I are getting ready to buy it, so you could come watch it with us, as I'm sure we will be watching it again and again and then discussing. Priceless. You will love it.
On that note, I am going to retire and finish my cleaning. I still need to finish the laundry and fold it and all that stuff. Then there's the bathrooms. Ick. The humbling experience of scrubbing the toilets should not be missed, I guess.
But I can talk about my family, because they are coming to visit this weekend. My mom, my grandmom, my uncle and aunt and a couple of cousins have picked this weekend to come to my tiny little apartment and comiserate, which you know, makes perfect sense in that I am the only one in the family not to live in a boda fide free standing house and I have a kitchen that Fat Albert could barely turn around in. My mom will actually be here tonight. So I am cleaning feverishly, cursing my boyfriend for eating crumby foods, and fighting with a toilet that has a tendency to overflow at the most inopportune times. It is not fun. I don't really like to clean at all. I would much rather be reading or watching TV which is what I usually do at this time (City Confidential is on right now by the way), but instead, I am exerting my femininity and doing some power vaccuuming. This is sad.
And here's the really sad thing about it. No matter how smart you are, no matter how many books you write, no matter what, you still have to clean up after yourself. I know, I know, you could get a maid, but seriously, there are some little things that you just have to do. Me, I have this uncanny ability to plumb (or however you would say "to fix a toilet"). I can fix just about anything to do with a toilet. You may say, "She's lying." It's true. The other morning I awoke to the scared screams of my boyfriend who I found standing on top of the overflowing toilet grasping towels and preparinng for Heart Attack #1. So I came in and, with my trusty dusty plunger, took care of business. He was very happy, to say the least. But to return to my original argument, you can't escape things like that. This "real world" which I have come to discuss lately is a tricky bastard, and clings to you at every step. You may try to retreat into literature and thought and the Russian language even (not naming any names, of course), but it hangs onto you, always reminding you that its there, and that you are a part of it. Sadly, I have come to realize that this incessant cleaning, these tedious errands, this STUFF, is the very stuff of life. Isn't it wierd how tied to the world we humans are? You can't even forsake the thing if you wanted to. It's wierd.
Which brings me to something I wanted to write about yesterday but didn't get around to. Matt and I rented Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind on Tuesday night, and let me tell you, everyone should see this. This was the most real, most perfect love story I have ever seen played out on film (plus the Pope quote in the title was pretty rockin' as I have just recently read Essay on Man). It was nothing short of amazing. It is the first film that I have ever seen to actually grasp the everyday beauty of a relationship, everything from eating at a favorite restaurant to eating Chinese take out in front of the TV, to laying in bed together. You should see it, if you haven't already. In fact, Matt and I are getting ready to buy it, so you could come watch it with us, as I'm sure we will be watching it again and again and then discussing. Priceless. You will love it.
On that note, I am going to retire and finish my cleaning. I still need to finish the laundry and fold it and all that stuff. Then there's the bathrooms. Ick. The humbling experience of scrubbing the toilets should not be missed, I guess.
posted by Southern Belle at 12:19 AM
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