OK then...
...I have an idea. I'm going to try something a bit crazy even for me. I can't tell you what it is and if I do it right, I won't ever HAVE to tell you.
In the meantime, I'm still cleaning out closets. The other day I started seeing moths coming out of the laundry room so I cleaned that out and put contact paper all over the shelves. The moths were all in my knitting, making themselves quite at home. That's how long it's been since I worked on the scarf that I started in January. I think it was January, it was a time when I should have been able to knit a quick scarf and get some use out of it. But that quick scarf turned into a Motholopolis, ripe with cocoons The constant moths were the little soldiers, sent out to FUCK with me as I follow them around the house with my neon pink fly swatter.
This is what I do.
I totally annihilated their entire society, beginning with a few swats at some rogue soldier moths and ending with a total wipe out of the queen worm and her entire realm...I threw them all far away. They may start again but it won't be with that bitch or in my house. Already a few of her remaining offspring have advanced into my bedroom closet so I took everything out of that and cleaned every fricking thing in there...just to be safe.
I've been doing laundry at a rate normally only reached by obsessive compulsive lunys. I hate this all but I have to do it. It does no good to store sheets if you're afraid that a moth touched them...I HAD to wash ALL the fucking sheets in the house. And it's not at all obsessive that I'm matching them all up into one flat sheet, one fitted sheet and two pillow case piles.
I figured that as long as I have to do this, I might as well take complete inventory of my sheets and figure out whether or not the odd sheets are worth storing. This is something I do every two or three years so that the house doesn't start smelling like grandma's house. There's a special smell that goes along with grandma's house and I'm not ready for that smell yet.
Something I've noticed about man as a species, the act of moving is nature's way of getting rid of shit not worth moving. Grandparents have been in the same place for so long that there are literally closets they don't go into for decades and that one closet stinks up the entire house and you get the grandma smell. My grandmother had one closet that, for as long as I remember, contained ball gowns.
Ball Gowns.
I never, ever saw my grandparents go to a ball. I don't know why she had a closet full of ball gowns, I guess just in case Herbert Hoover came back. Anyway, my grandparents lived in the same place for my entire life. Grandpa wouldn't have moved a closet of outmoded ball gowns. He would have done what most men do, accidentally on purpose lost a box or two during the move.
And then we women ALL fall for it because it's just so inconceivable that anyone would take our shit and dump it God knows where. So we just naively mumble, "Oh...OK." and walk away. And since my grandparents never moved, Grandpa never had a chance to get rid of those ball gowns. It's just proof that staying in one place is not inherently human...we were made to roam. Just ask my ex husband. he roamed from here to there and then back again.
Well, I have to eat now. If you don't think living alone is cool, just tell me this, can YOUR family have Fluffernutter Crackers for dinner like I can?
...I have an idea. I'm going to try something a bit crazy even for me. I can't tell you what it is and if I do it right, I won't ever HAVE to tell you.
In the meantime, I'm still cleaning out closets. The other day I started seeing moths coming out of the laundry room so I cleaned that out and put contact paper all over the shelves. The moths were all in my knitting, making themselves quite at home. That's how long it's been since I worked on the scarf that I started in January. I think it was January, it was a time when I should have been able to knit a quick scarf and get some use out of it. But that quick scarf turned into a Motholopolis, ripe with cocoons The constant moths were the little soldiers, sent out to FUCK with me as I follow them around the house with my neon pink fly swatter.
This is what I do.
I totally annihilated their entire society, beginning with a few swats at some rogue soldier moths and ending with a total wipe out of the queen worm and her entire realm...I threw them all far away. They may start again but it won't be with that bitch or in my house. Already a few of her remaining offspring have advanced into my bedroom closet so I took everything out of that and cleaned every fricking thing in there...just to be safe.
I've been doing laundry at a rate normally only reached by obsessive compulsive lunys. I hate this all but I have to do it. It does no good to store sheets if you're afraid that a moth touched them...I HAD to wash ALL the fucking sheets in the house. And it's not at all obsessive that I'm matching them all up into one flat sheet, one fitted sheet and two pillow case piles.
I figured that as long as I have to do this, I might as well take complete inventory of my sheets and figure out whether or not the odd sheets are worth storing. This is something I do every two or three years so that the house doesn't start smelling like grandma's house. There's a special smell that goes along with grandma's house and I'm not ready for that smell yet.
Something I've noticed about man as a species, the act of moving is nature's way of getting rid of shit not worth moving. Grandparents have been in the same place for so long that there are literally closets they don't go into for decades and that one closet stinks up the entire house and you get the grandma smell. My grandmother had one closet that, for as long as I remember, contained ball gowns.
Ball Gowns.
I never, ever saw my grandparents go to a ball. I don't know why she had a closet full of ball gowns, I guess just in case Herbert Hoover came back. Anyway, my grandparents lived in the same place for my entire life. Grandpa wouldn't have moved a closet of outmoded ball gowns. He would have done what most men do, accidentally on purpose lost a box or two during the move.
And then we women ALL fall for it because it's just so inconceivable that anyone would take our shit and dump it God knows where. So we just naively mumble, "Oh...OK." and walk away. And since my grandparents never moved, Grandpa never had a chance to get rid of those ball gowns. It's just proof that staying in one place is not inherently human...we were made to roam. Just ask my ex husband. he roamed from here to there and then back again.
Well, I have to eat now. If you don't think living alone is cool, just tell me this, can YOUR family have Fluffernutter Crackers for dinner like I can?
posted by Meg Kelso | 5:37 PM
1 Comments:
what's that? Oh man, I thought you had cooked the moths! I don't know how you do it cleaning that crap out. I would have paid someone to do it for me. I HATE insects! I would much rather a mouse.
By the way, you should have sent the narcisstic queen one to a certain lonely man's house. Just kidding. I just made myself crack up LOLOL!
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