Tidy Blog

So, for whatever reason, it's really been annoying me that the Post-Potter Blog was just kind of hanging out there. Abandoned. Sad. It annoyed me to see it on my dashboard. And in the sidebar. So in an effort to keep things neat and tidy (and keep the OCD in check) I have added Post-Potter to the annals of Kudzu Jungle. You can find it (if you're so inclined) by searching the tag "Post-Potter Blog."

And the photo blog? That I was supposed to finish in December? Yeah, well, it went the way of the dodo, too. Let's face it. You're forced to look at my photos enough here - why would you go elsewhere.

But please don't forget Swing State. Yes, I've been remiss in posting, but Kim's friend Matt has been soldiering on, so there's still political wonderfulness to be had.

Thank You,
Housekeeping

Sucked into an Alternate Universe?

It is 9:36 p.m. I hear the vacuum running. I peer up the stairs to see Dad pushing said vacuum down the hall. I look in their bedroom, where Mom's brushing her teeth. "What-?" I begin.

She shrugs. "I have no clue," she says, all frothy.

Dad reaches the end of the hall, looks back at me. "What?"

"Well, it's just...it's...what inspired this?"

"I don't know. I just saw some stuff in the floor, I guess."

I resist the urge to say anything else. Particularly, "I have never seen you thus inspired in my life."

A New Year's anomaly, it would seem.

Potent Potatobles for $200

On the way home today, Mom told me on the phone, "There's something dead in the house. It's this horrible smell," she said. "We can't find it. Your dad blames the cats." I hung up and promptly forgot about it.

I was reminded when passing by the wooden Taters and Onions bin in the dining room. Without thinking, I lifted the lid. I imagine this is what Jabba the Hut smells like. Truly one of the most repulsive, gag-inducing smells ever - like the most potent, sour, sweaty, rancid body odor magnified twelve times.

With rubber gloves, I braved the bin once more to retrieve the rotting potatoes. I ran them down the driveway in my pajamas (and rubber gloves) to dispose of them in the garbage, already by the street for Monday morning pick up.

Liberal amounts of Febreze have been sprayed. There is a candle burning in the dining room. The bin is in the garage. We may have to burn it tomorrow. Jabba the Hut must die.

Strange Things I Do

1) Sit in the dark. I don't like the dark. But I will sit on the couch and start watching TV or surfing the internet and it will get dark outside and very dark inside, and I will wait hours to turn the light on.

2) Not put garbage in its rightful place. For example, this morning, I put inserts into a pair of shoes that didn't quite fit. The packaging? On the coffee table. Wore a new shirt the other day and cut the tag out. Left it on the desk. I will wad up a piece of paper and throw it in the floor. That's wrong.

3) Put off eating dinner. For a ridiculously long time. I'll consider it and weigh my options and then sort of try to convince myself that maybe I'm not hungry. Just because I'm lazy.

4) Write a to do list. Do three of the nine things on it. Rewrite the to do list and add four things to it. Do two things (neither from the original list). Wad up the page and throw it in the floor. Things do not get done this way.

Done & Undone

Done:
* Stoned kitty sleeping by cat-nipped scratcher near the kitchen
* Filmed various important Wilmywood locations: first office, first apartment, Morton Hall, beach
* Sushi
* Long bath
* Palm Sunday service
* Watching She's the Man (twice)
* Identifying Amanda Bynes ' next teen movie project and duly notifying Penelope
* Almost entire bag of Skittles
* Afternoon nap
* Marathon procrastination
* Agreeing to tap dance at Kim Shable's wedding

Undone:
* Dishes
* Taking the trash out
* Sending out resumes
* Unfinishable proposal I'm writing for work
* Packing
* Bank deposit
* iPod loading
* General life planning
* Learning to tap dance

Inedibles

A little PSA about the contents of your refrigerator:

* Hot dogs should never be gray. Or shriveled like raisins.

* Pineapple, by the same token, should never be blue. Or smell like really awful liquor.

* And peaches should not be black.

* Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale is UNdrinkable.

For your own safety and well-being, please consult your own refrigerator for conditions such as these. Any combination of the above listed items in your refridgerator may require a call to the EPA.

Hunk o' Cleanin' Love

Armed with Elvis' #1 Hits and a little elbow grease, I set about cleaning my apartment this evening. I knew I was really into it when I caught myself playing air guitar on the broom to "Hard Headed Woman." Also, the running shoes Anna and Ronnie gave me for Christmas are also excellent for on-toepoint Elvis hip swivels. And now, thanks to Elvis, I don't need shower shoes in my own home.

In Case of Emergency

Dear Mom:
If something unforeseen happens, please excuse the state of my apartment. You know, the fifty-something pairs of shoes in the floor. Whatever's left in the fridge that's unidentifiable. The partially scooped-out litter box. Piles of clothes waiting to be hung up. And the bathroom. Let's not even go there - it's a bit mildewy. But rest assured, the house may not be clean, but at the very least, the underwear I'm wearing tomorrow will be.

Love,
Ashley

There are Starving Children in China

With the holidays approaching and a week away from here to look forward to, I thought it best not to leave my fridge stocked with all manner of gross and nearly-unidentifiable things. As I started to tackle the task, grimacing at the fuzzy leftover lasagna from Elizabeth's Pizza from weeks ago and a package of hotdogs whose origin cannot be traced, I wondered why it is that I cannot simply throw things away when the time comes. I've known for some time that those hot dogs were mouldering in the "crisper", but I've been unable to dispose of them until now - when they are truly toxic.

And then I realized it comes from those words, spoken by mothers across the nation attempting to force compliance with broccoli or spinach or some other offending vegetable: "There are starving children in China." It's not like I think about it when I'm considering whether to toss now or put off til later, but subconciously, I think that I can't let it go until I am certain that the food is truly beyond the pale.

This could also explain my need to clean my plate in restaurants. Aside from the fact that I'm paying for the food, I feel that it's wasteful to have ordered it and not eaten it. At a business luncheon on Thursday, several of the other ladies demurely pushed the remnants of their chocolate mousse cup toward the center of the table, unfinished. I ate every bit of mine - including the garnishing raspberries - even as I felt myself getting uncomfortably full because I could not stand the thought of it going to waste. (And maybe in that case, it had something to do with it being chocolate as well.)

Don't worry, though. Not even the starving children could make me eat the hot dogs. They'll be curbside tomorrow.

I Hate...

...cleaning hair out of the drain in the bathtub.

...the feeling of finishing a book I've been reading like mad to finish and realizing that it's over.

...the point in the late afternoon when I realize Saturday is over.

...trying fruitlessly to surf the internet for ideas for Christmas presents.

...never having anything worth eating in the kitchen because I am too lazy and inept to go to the grocery store.

...deciding I need a haircut and not being able to get an appointment for a whole week.

...computer problems.

...listlessly trying to decide what to do next.

Weird Six

I've been tapped by Kim to reveal some of my innate weirdness to the world. Narrowing down to six was the tough part:

1. I have an overwhelming fear that the world will run out of electricity. Sometimes when I drive at night and see all the lights on in an office building or think about all the electric signs, I feel panicked. When I had a washer/dryer and dishwasher in my first apartment, I couldn't run them at the same time without needing to leave the apartment. I can't sleep if I can hear the air or heat clicking on and off, so I'll turn the air up and the heat down to the point that it only comes on periodically.

2. I've noticed lately a few habits about numbers. I have to pump gas on the fives. It has to be $16.65 instead of $16.62. And the volume on the TV or radio has to be an even number.

3. When my sister got married five years ago, I had my first and only manicure. Before that, I wore my fingernails very, very long. The manicurist cut them pretty short, and since then, I've been unable to stand long fingernails. I had to cut my nails before I left for Salt Lake City, because I knew if they got too long on the trip, I would chew them off just to keep them short.

4. I have an undergraduate and graduate degree. Neither the college nor the university I went to had a football team. Conversely, I grew up a stone's throw from Athens, Georgia, a town obsessed with its UGA dawgs. But I have never been to a UGA football game.

5. I am obsessed with my handwriting. Perhaps it's something to do with being lefthanded, which typically makes for terrible penmanship. But I practiced and practiced and practiced until I had neat handwriting. If I start to write a note to myself on a post-it, and it looks messy, I'll throw it away and start over again.

6. I am an inherently messy person. At my house, I throw clothes and shoes around without care, leave dishes in the sink, and let the bathroom go straight past EPA standards. In a hotel, I am meticulously neat. Fastidious even. I will fold my clothes, put items back in the suitcase after use and hang up the towels in the bathroom. Perhaps I need to pretend I live in a hotel.

I'm double-tapping, but I'd love to see weirdness from Pen & M, Tom, Andi, Niki, and The Growler.

Scrub-a-palooza '06 (or Why I Can Die Tonight)

Don't worry. I'm not planning to die tonight. But if I do, I'll know that my mother will never find the things I found in the kitchen when I decided to clean out the fridge, freezer and cabinets. It was a fairly grizzly scene, as some of the items that wound up in the trash should have met their end a long time ago. I don't clean out like this very often. Which would explain why I discarded

* Not one but two containers of spoiled milk

* At least three containers of chewy-looking ice cream

* Two unidentifiable iced-over meat products (one including a best if used by date of February 2005)

* A box of Cheez-Its that were no longer orange

* A bag of chips that were unopened when I found them but tasted like dust

* Two boxes of Triscuits from an unknown time (following the chips, I did not taste them to determine their condition)

And Mom, sorry that you don't have any cool packs at home. There are no less than 8 in my freezer.

I have since moved on to the bedroom where approximately 26 pairs of shoes have escaped their boxes and the clean laundry from three weeks ago is still in the clothes basket.

Scrub-a-palooza '06 was powered by the music of The Killers, Justin Timberlake, Our Lady Peace, Heather Nova, Saint Etienne and Smashing Pumpkins. Refreshments provided by Elizabeth's Pizza and Michelob Amberbock.

Housekeeping!

True to my promise, I did attend to some important housekeeping duties today. The EPA will be able to postpone their visit due to the fact that I accomplished the following this evening:

* Changed the shower curtain
* Scrubbed down the tub, toilet & sink
* Changed the sheets
* Washed the dishes
* Sorted through a pile of mail
* Set up online billpay (I know I'm way behind the rest of the world)
* Folded and hung clothes (no small task)
* Threw away a pair of shoes (gasp!) that admittedly is falling apart
* Put aside in (growing) Goodwill pile shirt and pants that obviously no longer fit me and never ever will again
* Lit candles to create lovely ambience and good smells in my freshly cleaned house

Aren't you impressed??

Thoughts for Saturday

It's almost 7:30...here are the things I've thought about today:

1) Taking a walk (but not taking one)

2) The gay man at the office came out yesterday - and admitted that he doesn't love my haircut. I'm officially growing it out.

3) How long it will take my hair to grow back out

4) Going to the grocery store (but not going)

5) Sadness over the plate I knocked to the floor off the couch arm and broke into several sadly irreparable pieces

6)How everything in my house that is edible seems to be stale

7) Having seen two drunk college students almost have sex on Front Street last night between the post office and a lunch-only cafe called Betty B's

8) Amusement at Kudzu's new habit of laying on the window sill and sleeping with his face smashed up against the pain or the frame

9) How wonderful it is, sometimes, to have not talked to anyone all day

10) Going to the library to get a book on tape to listen to while cleaning (and not doing either)

11) My hair looks best on Saturdays when no one is going to see it

12) That if I put all the things back in the corner where the ceiling leaked, someone will show up to spackle, paint and sand the ceiling - all over my stuff

13) Why the new Killers album isn't coming out until October

14) How to lose 12 pounds before I have to wear a bridesmaid dress without really trying (or giving up chips, cookies and ice cream)

15) Why I can find time to blog, make my way through 96 episdoes of S&TC, eat, drink, sleep, work, and make a gigantic mess of my apartment, but I can't find time to read a book

16) That I kind of missed taking the new car for a drive today while I was busy staying in

17) Sometimes Kudzu knows just when to come and get in my lap

18) Where to get to dinner from (refrigerator not included)

19) Whether or not I should start the 6-hour Pride & Prejudice, which I suddenly have a yen to do

20) The list of things I should be doing is growing longer the longer I sit on this couch and blog

The Missing Link

My mother will admit that she didn't have it to give. And my father is obviously devoid of it. The Housekeeping Gene. There are those among us who think they don't have it either - but they do. They either are closet housekeepers or they have half of one, maybe an allele or two. But me? I don't have a trace of it. Not even a smidge. I wish I did. I wish reading a book or taking a course or my monthly dose of Real Simple would make me a better housekeeper. But I have some seemingly incurable habits and shortcomings:

* I hate washing dishes. And I have no dishwasher. For Scarlett, tomorrow was another day. For me, tomorrow is supposedly the day I'll do dishes - but don't.

* My most glaring character flaw is an inability to hang up my clothes after work. They end up in a big pile on the end of the ironing board. So that it is impossible to actually use the ironing board for it's proper function.

* Instead of putting things in their proper places, I put them in piles. "This mail goes to the trash. This pile is bills to pay." "This stack of tshirts goes in the armoire." "This bag from WalMart is all stuff to go under the bathroom cabinet." My house is littered with things that belong other places than where they are.

* I have a long-haired cat whose dander is a nightmare. It collects and tumbleweeds across the room. It shows up on my clothes, my furniture, and often my dinner.

* My father cleaned a blockage from the hose on my vacuum cleaner when he was here in July. It was the first time the stupid thing had worked in more than three years.

* Despite the infrequency with which I cook (because it dirties dishes), I manage to keep the refrigerator well-stocked with an assortment of unidentifiable inedibles.

* I have dry cleaning that I've missed a season wearing because I haven't made it to the dry cleaners.

I could go on and on. The things that need to be dusted. Scrubbed. Trashed. Bleached. The all-around unneatness of me. I'm Martha Stewart's worst nightmare. Other than having to wear one of those ankle bracelets again.