I thought the domestic gene was in every girl, kind of like the motherly gene. I thought it just kicks in when you're on your own and when it needs to and then it's there.
Apparently not.
Some background on me: I never had to do many chores growing up - just the occassional emptying of the dishwasher or vacuuming; never had to make my bed before I left my room in the morning.
But once I was on my own, I knew to pick up after myself. I knew to vacuum weekly. I knew not to leave crumbs sitting on the counter because bugs will be drawn and I knew to take out the trash when it was full. I knew to wipe up spills and throw away trash. Doesn't every girl know to do those things - even the spoiled ones?
Again, apparently not.
I must say my necessity to have a clean home has become somewhat of an obsession. I understand that I'm unlike most people when it comes to keeping things straight and in order and cleaned up. I know that I can be a bit overbearing on how I like things to look so I try to keep that in mind when I live with someone and let most things roll off my back. After all, I do enjoy cleaning so if I have to do a little picking up after someone from time to time, who cares... right?
Well, I live with a freak of nature when it comes to domestication. I can't possibly understand how a grown women has absolutely no sense when it comes to cooking, cleaning, laundry and really just common sense.
I lived on my own for a while - and let me tell you it was the best experience of my life - and during that time it was heaven. Nothing out of place. No dirty dishes. No crumbs on the counters or floors. Trash never overflowing. I know it's an obsession and probably a bit OCD like, but it's how I like it and it's what keeps me sane.
Somehow in my current living situation, there are constantly chunks of food that I step on, coffee stains covering the appliances, crumbs all over the counters, used paper towels sitting on by the sink, and even... FLIES. Where do the flies come from you ask? From the disposal because the Undomestic Goddess doesn't know how to run it once she puts food down it.
I know what you're doing right now as you read this. You're asking yourself, "why don't you just say something to her so that she'll stop?"
Oh, I have. I've said it politely. I've said it with sass. I've cleaned it up in front of her face to prove a point. But to no avail. This bitch just doesn't get it.
When it comes to cooking, I'm not the best. Hell, I don't even try. Unfortunately, UD does try. And she tries with MY kitchen supplies.
I'll give you two examples.
Numero Uno: UD noticed that I own a George Forman grill. She asked me how to use it and I begrudingly told her. I explained to her how to turn it on and how to clean it so that she wouldn't screw it up. Well, forgetting that UD lacked common sense, I failed to mention that there is a drip tray to go along with the grill. And UD failed to ask where it was. It was about 5 minutes into her meal-making that I realized she had a paper towel sitting where the drip tray should be to catch the grease. Not only was it sitting there, it was full on - purposely - touching the grill. Apparently she was hoping to get a visit from the fire department sometime during the evening. I corrected her and immediately left so that I wouldn't pull out her hair.
Numero Dos: UD text messaged me on my way home from work one evening asking me if she can put the PLASTIC cover to my cakepan in the oven. I immediately called her and told her NO. She actually made the following statement, "Okay good, I'm glad you called. I couldn't decide between the plastic or a dish towel to cover the lasagna in the oven so I'll use the dish towel." Again, I corrected her in a very unpatient tone.
I got home later that night to my plastic pan cover melted on the counter. She told me she'd buy me a new one. I'm still waiting.
How did this girl grow up? What does her mother's home look like? I'd love to have a serious sit down conversation with the people that raised this girl and ask them why they never taught their child some brain power or sound judgement.
So please, for all of you Undomestic Goddesses out there, get your shit together. After all, cleanliness is next to Godliness.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
Just a regular Sunday afternoon
This post is dedicated to my very best friend, who still loves me despite my shenanigans.
Sunday was finally the big day of S + T's engagement party and after weeks of talking and somewhat blowing him off, Stage 5 Clinger and I decided to go together. After all, he is the Best Man and I'm the Maid of Honor - wouldn't that be just darling?
Days before the party, S5C was getting entirely too excited about our 2 hour roadtrip together. I was recieving texts, Facebook messages (ending in "xoxoxoxox!!!!!!!" and even one picture message of a note that said "Can't wait to see you! XOXO!" (Anyone who knows me knows that the use of 'xoxo' and excessive exclamation marks from a boy will rule him out immediately in my book.)
So it was Sunday morning. I was about 20% hungover and had only had a few hours of sleep when I got up at 8:30 (at another boy's house, who only slightly uses excessive exclamation marks) to go home and get ready. As I was doing my makeup I recieved a text message and all I could see were way too many '!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'s.
"OMG!!!!! I'm so excited!!!!!!!!! What are you wearing? We should match!!!!!!! OMG THIS IS GOING TO BE SO FUN!!!!!!" I responded with, "OMG. Stop."
Whoa, buddy. It's not even 9 a.m. and you're already bombarding me with the OMG's and the !!!!!!!!!'s. At that moment, I realized the day would not be as laid back as planned. I had to be on guard in case he started throwing too many punctuation marks at me in the car.
So I put on my purple and white sundress, print out the directions and I'm on my way. To go pick him up. Because his car currently is hardly functioning enough to drive 2 hours there and back. Awesome.
I'm at his house and he gets into the car, wearing a blue polo and khaki pants - which I basically had to pick out for him from all of his questions about jeans/khakis?, tie/no tie?, button down/polo? He proceeds to ask me why I didn't tell him that I was going to be wearing purple because he would have gone out and bought a purple polo so that we could match. No thank you.
Our drive begins and I'm tired and hungry, which means I'm cranky. He starts singing and dancing in the car. He tells me about the amount of money he spent on a gift. He texts me to tell me that I look nice (yes, as I was sitting in the car right next to him). It was just all too much for a sleep deprived, hungry girl to handle.
We arrive at our destination. Thank God Best Friend saves me as soon as we walk in the door and I give her a Cliff's Notes version of the drive. We decide it's clearly not what S5C had in mind for what the day would be.
Before anyone else showed up I grabbed a Coke and lots of finger foods. I figured that'd be the best beverage selection for my lack of sleep and my excess of beer the night before. Everyone began to arrive, as did Dub - one of the funnest girls in the world to drink with. We all stuck with our sodas at first but sometime around 1 p.m. I whispered to Dub, "I really want some wine..." and she whispered back, "Me too!" We haul ourselves into the kitchen and crack open the frosty cold bottle of white wine sitting on the counter. After one glass I'm already tipsy. Tipsy enough to want a second one right away. Apparently Dub felt the same way.
We down another glass of wine and end up talking to Best Friend's future step-mom. I'm trying to pretend that I don't think she's crazy as she's telling me entirely too much about her life. Dub is standing next to me, nodding to pretend like she's also interested in the conversation. I look over and Dub is looking down at her wet arm. "I spilled!" She had apparently, for no reason, turned her entire glass of wine over. Spillage on the floor. She ran away so I was forced to clean it up - which made anyone standing around think that I spilled my wine. That was sign #1 that Dub had consumed too much and we should probably stop. But we continued.
I force another glass or two down her throat and at this point all we can do is giggle at each other about how drunk we are in this gorgeous home surrounded by all of these strangers, all the while trying our hardest to pretend we aren't drunk. Dub's fiance also joined in on the fun, encouraging me to have her drink more, which was just hysterical to me.
Time for food! We all herd inside to get in line for food and I'm standing behind Dub, and in front of Best Friend's aunt, who's also in the wedding party. This is where I realize I've had too much. I begin to talk to Aunt and proceed to spill my wine on her. Did I mention she is pregnant? Yes, I spilled wine on a pregnant woman. I then broke the one rule that I NEVER allow myself to break: I told her my baby names. What was I thinking?? Anyone could have overheard and, BOOM!, there go my 2 wonderful names for my future princesses.
Sidenote: It is a strict rule of mine that I do NOT share my future baby names with ANYONE, for fear that they will be taken since all of my friends are getting married like, yesterday, and I have no wedding, let alone baby, in sight.
After eating, and probably talking entirely too loudly and obnoxiously - truthfully I can't really remember - I decided that glass #5 would be it for me. We stayed a little longer and then everyone began saying their goodbyes.
S5C took my keys and we headed to my car. (We didn't talk much during the party because, thankfully, we both had too many other friends to play with other than each other.) On the way home I passed out for about an hour so that killed a lot of time that I had to be annoyed with him. He didn't seem to excited when I woke up either.
We get to his house and he gets out of the car and hugs me and that's that. I think he expected a road trip of love but all he got was a road trip of reality. He also didn't offer any compensation for the drive that used an entire tank of gas - no dinner, no offer for gas money. (I'll also add that S5C enjoys flaunting the amount of money he makes, so this did not bode well for him at all.)
I ended the day with Boston Market and a 9:30 bed time. Too much wine, friends and fun for this little girl to handle!
S5C hasn't called, texted or even poked (which was part of the Facebooking going on days prior) me since Sunday. Which is fine. But I'm wondering if I should rethink my hard partying ways at engagement parties. Apparently they tend to scare others off.
Sunday was finally the big day of S + T's engagement party and after weeks of talking and somewhat blowing him off, Stage 5 Clinger and I decided to go together. After all, he is the Best Man and I'm the Maid of Honor - wouldn't that be just darling?
Days before the party, S5C was getting entirely too excited about our 2 hour roadtrip together. I was recieving texts, Facebook messages (ending in "xoxoxoxox!!!!!!!" and even one picture message of a note that said "Can't wait to see you! XOXO!" (Anyone who knows me knows that the use of 'xoxo' and excessive exclamation marks from a boy will rule him out immediately in my book.)
So it was Sunday morning. I was about 20% hungover and had only had a few hours of sleep when I got up at 8:30 (at another boy's house, who only slightly uses excessive exclamation marks) to go home and get ready. As I was doing my makeup I recieved a text message and all I could see were way too many '!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'s.
"OMG!!!!! I'm so excited!!!!!!!!! What are you wearing? We should match!!!!!!! OMG THIS IS GOING TO BE SO FUN!!!!!!" I responded with, "OMG. Stop."
Whoa, buddy. It's not even 9 a.m. and you're already bombarding me with the OMG's and the !!!!!!!!!'s. At that moment, I realized the day would not be as laid back as planned. I had to be on guard in case he started throwing too many punctuation marks at me in the car.
So I put on my purple and white sundress, print out the directions and I'm on my way. To go pick him up. Because his car currently is hardly functioning enough to drive 2 hours there and back. Awesome.
I'm at his house and he gets into the car, wearing a blue polo and khaki pants - which I basically had to pick out for him from all of his questions about jeans/khakis?, tie/no tie?, button down/polo? He proceeds to ask me why I didn't tell him that I was going to be wearing purple because he would have gone out and bought a purple polo so that we could match. No thank you.
Our drive begins and I'm tired and hungry, which means I'm cranky. He starts singing and dancing in the car. He tells me about the amount of money he spent on a gift. He texts me to tell me that I look nice (yes, as I was sitting in the car right next to him). It was just all too much for a sleep deprived, hungry girl to handle.
We arrive at our destination. Thank God Best Friend saves me as soon as we walk in the door and I give her a Cliff's Notes version of the drive. We decide it's clearly not what S5C had in mind for what the day would be.
Before anyone else showed up I grabbed a Coke and lots of finger foods. I figured that'd be the best beverage selection for my lack of sleep and my excess of beer the night before. Everyone began to arrive, as did Dub - one of the funnest girls in the world to drink with. We all stuck with our sodas at first but sometime around 1 p.m. I whispered to Dub, "I really want some wine..." and she whispered back, "Me too!" We haul ourselves into the kitchen and crack open the frosty cold bottle of white wine sitting on the counter. After one glass I'm already tipsy. Tipsy enough to want a second one right away. Apparently Dub felt the same way.
We down another glass of wine and end up talking to Best Friend's future step-mom. I'm trying to pretend that I don't think she's crazy as she's telling me entirely too much about her life. Dub is standing next to me, nodding to pretend like she's also interested in the conversation. I look over and Dub is looking down at her wet arm. "I spilled!" She had apparently, for no reason, turned her entire glass of wine over. Spillage on the floor. She ran away so I was forced to clean it up - which made anyone standing around think that I spilled my wine. That was sign #1 that Dub had consumed too much and we should probably stop. But we continued.
I force another glass or two down her throat and at this point all we can do is giggle at each other about how drunk we are in this gorgeous home surrounded by all of these strangers, all the while trying our hardest to pretend we aren't drunk. Dub's fiance also joined in on the fun, encouraging me to have her drink more, which was just hysterical to me.
Time for food! We all herd inside to get in line for food and I'm standing behind Dub, and in front of Best Friend's aunt, who's also in the wedding party. This is where I realize I've had too much. I begin to talk to Aunt and proceed to spill my wine on her. Did I mention she is pregnant? Yes, I spilled wine on a pregnant woman. I then broke the one rule that I NEVER allow myself to break: I told her my baby names. What was I thinking?? Anyone could have overheard and, BOOM!, there go my 2 wonderful names for my future princesses.
Sidenote: It is a strict rule of mine that I do NOT share my future baby names with ANYONE, for fear that they will be taken since all of my friends are getting married like, yesterday, and I have no wedding, let alone baby, in sight.
After eating, and probably talking entirely too loudly and obnoxiously - truthfully I can't really remember - I decided that glass #5 would be it for me. We stayed a little longer and then everyone began saying their goodbyes.
S5C took my keys and we headed to my car. (We didn't talk much during the party because, thankfully, we both had too many other friends to play with other than each other.) On the way home I passed out for about an hour so that killed a lot of time that I had to be annoyed with him. He didn't seem to excited when I woke up either.
We get to his house and he gets out of the car and hugs me and that's that. I think he expected a road trip of love but all he got was a road trip of reality. He also didn't offer any compensation for the drive that used an entire tank of gas - no dinner, no offer for gas money. (I'll also add that S5C enjoys flaunting the amount of money he makes, so this did not bode well for him at all.)
I ended the day with Boston Market and a 9:30 bed time. Too much wine, friends and fun for this little girl to handle!
S5C hasn't called, texted or even poked (which was part of the Facebooking going on days prior) me since Sunday. Which is fine. But I'm wondering if I should rethink my hard partying ways at engagement parties. Apparently they tend to scare others off.
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