Well, moving day is approaching faster than I’d like to admit. (No, I’m not really sure why I have trouble admitting the pace with which moving day heads towards me.) I have to be out of here by the 26th because the next weekend I’ll be leaving to New York for a much needed vacation. I’ve alerted the judges to this fact so they can all sit back and watch as I procrastinate longer than any other human being on the face of the planet has ever procrastinated when it comes to moving all of their earthly possessions from one place to another. I imagine some sort of gathering will happen late Sunday night where in a few unlucky souls, who will no doubt reevaluate their stance on being my “friend” when this is all over, will show up at my apartment, find me sitting on the couch, eating some sort of snack food item, without a single thing packed and ready to go. I expect high marks from the judges all around.
In the past few weeks, I have frequently been bombarded with the question, “What will you miss the most about the apartment when you move back home?” Truth be told, I could literally go on for 3 or possibly even 4 minutes about all the things I’m going to miss. I won’t waste everyone’s valuable time with all that though. Instead, I have chosen to tell you about the one thing that I will definitely not miss. As hard to believe as this is going to be for about 95% of my readers (statcounter will confirm this, much like it confirmed the 15 hits on my blog when people googled “Dakota Fanning’s teeth.”) the thing I’m going to miss the least is the community laundry room.
Blasphemous, I know. I’ll give you all a minute to scream in your pillow, punch a hole in the wall, break dishes, or whatever else it is you do when confronted with such rage inspiring comments like the ones I wrote above. It’s ok… get it all out… I’ve got time… I mean, I’ve certainly got enough time to drag this joke out way too long…
It’s not that I don’t like paying $5.00 to do two loads of laundry; I love that. With all my heart and all my soul, I love paying money to wash my clothes. And above that, I love the hunt for quarters that a laundry day ignites. I’m certainly glad no one had the audacity to put a coin machine in the laundry room itself! That would take the thrill out of the hunt. No, I much prefer to sift through my quarter eating coin jar or look under the seat of my car for those last two quarters I need to maintain my pampered “I like dry clothes” lifestyle that I’ve become so accustomed to.
You’d also be a fool for a horse* if you think I don’t like sharing a washing machine with several dozen strangers. The thought of that only exhilarates me all the more when preparing to do my laundry. Every day it’s a new game of, “Did they use bleach and leave some trace amounts in the machine or didn’t they?” (I still maintain that would make one of the greatest board games of all time for children ages 6-11. Think of it… a whole game centered around the action adventure that is laundry!! Oh it gives me goose bumps!!) No my friends, when I think of putting my clothes in a machine that may have contained an entire load of vomit covered “party” outfits, well, it’s hard to keep the grin off my face.
I am also going to miss those frequent times when I came back to a pile of my wet clothes on the ground because I took 31 minutes to get back to the machine instead of 30. Those were grand times indeed. I wish I had photos of the happy and surprised look on my face when I opened the door to that fortuitous scene. In conjunction with that, I’m also going to miss that awesome gift of four quarters and a dryer sheet that screams “Hey neighbor! I don’t know if you knew this, but I’m kind of a big deal around here, so I don’t have to put my own clothes in the dryer myself. Would you be a lamb and toss them in there for me? Thanks, you’re a peach!” Which reminds me of another one of my favorite treats… I will always remember feeling like a kid in a candy store when I walked into the laundry room, saw my clothes half dried and on the floor because what I didn’t see was the hidden dryer sheet and quarters gift left from you to me. Whoever you were, you were totally in the right when you left your clothes in the machine for four hours, and then when I got fed up and just put my stuff in the dryer ahead of yours, I was the one that was way out of line. The only true injustice would have been if you had let me dry my clothes first. Thanks to people like you, I feel like I live in a better world, even though I’m not the one that makes it that way. (I need a moment to dry the tears from my eye… it’s just the left one. The left one always tears up during moments of intense joy.)
What of the hike you say? It is true; I’m quite fond of the quarter mile hike to and from the laundry room. Who knows what kind of terrible shape I’d be in if I didn’t have that hike. My favorite days will always be the rainy days. Oh how I loved to just stroll down to the laundry room in the pouring rain. It’s weird, it doesn’t rain here often, but when I first moved in, the rain would start the afternoon I’d realize I needed to do laundry, and it wouldn’t let up for several days. I count my blessings every day people, make no mistake about it.
No, I’ll miss it all because I’ve clearly been beaten in the head several times. I’m pretty sure I was dropped a lot as a child, but my mother will not confirm this. Of course, why would she? It doesn’t make her look very good, does it? But I can see her point. I mean, she had 3 other kids. 3 out of 4 isn’t bad. You find me a success rate of 75% anywhere in the world and I guarantee you most people would find that well above satisfactory. Plus, I was the only boy; the girls clearly needed more pampering. I imagine I was often tossed across the room (in the general direction of the couch mind you, my parents aren’t completely heartless) when one of the princesses needed tending to. I’ll bet most of the time I even hit the cushioned couch first, but the rebound no doubt sent me flying onto the living room floor. I’m sure I just flipped over onto my stomach and took off crawling again. According to mom, I didn’t start walking at an early age, but I was a terror at the 2 C’s, crawling and climbing. At 9 months, I taught my sister how to climb up and get the cookies from the cupboard. She was almost 3 at the time and had been wildly unsuccessful at this feat. (that’s actually a true story. Unlike most of the nonsense found within these mad ramblings, I didn’t make that climbing thing up. How could I? I’m not THAT creative!)
*yeah… got me, I don’t know what that means either.
53 comments:
the key is to stay in or around the laundry area, singing along to your discman at the top of your lungs. that way, no amount of quarters or dryer sheets will give someone enough confidence to come in there and touch your unmentionables.
but at least you can savor the memories.
Ugh. The laundry room in my old apartment was in the creepiest of creepy basements. I didn't share the same positive laundry experiences as you. I'm pretty sure nobody else in my building did laundry. But it was creepy.
And I'd love to help you move, but I'm busy that weekend.
Procrastinators' creed: 'Why do it today when you can put it off for tomorrow?'
I've heard about those laundry rooms brr. I'd do what Cadiz does...sit and read or listen to music and guard my thingies.
You're lucky you're not a sister after TWO brothers. They told me I fell from a coconut tree and I was discovered by our parents. It was only fair that our little sister should suffer thus and so I passed on their taunts to her hee hee...
Hostel laundry room...pure hell. I once walked in and saw this idiot 'ironing' her hair. Yeah there was an iron board in one corner. Anyway in response to my display of horror and she informed me she *prefferd* that over the 'usual' hair straightner thing. Oh and the wet cloths on the floor, or worse, IN the dryer but some IDIOT didn't take the trouble to press ONE button after they opened it to check. Horrible horrible memories.
It's okay, I like my house also.
I haven't had a communal laundry room since my freshman year of college. I feel like I've really missed an important experience. No wonder my social life is in such dire straits ;)
The entry was hilarious! I needed a laugh and I knew I'd find it at the old Shuck N Jive...
i'm sorry, but moving is the BAIN of my existence...
Our first "memorable" communal laundry experience came courtesy of a dryer lint-trap fire. Pretty much every piece of baby apparel we owned was in the load.
The complex manager was understanding enough to not !*%&! CHARGE US for the fire damage. As if!
Fortunately that was also one of our last communal laundry experiences.
If I knew then what I know now, etc.
Well, haven’t I been a terrible host. I hate it when I have to work, it gives me no time to chat with my people…
Cadiz: I know I should stay there, but there’s no where to sit, and I’m just not that used to assuming people are going to mess with my stuff. I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, you know?
Omar: I don’t think laundry rooms anywhere are particularly pleasant. Especially when they locate them in parts of buildings that cannot be used for any other practical purpose.
I understand, you have plans… it happens.
Guyana-gyal: I’d like to amend that creed a little further.. ahem… “Why do today what you can easily put off until tomorrow when your friends show up and can do it for you?”
Nope, I’m placed very nicely. Second born, only boy, no room sharing… though I did have a bunk bed for a long time.
A: hmmm… how else are you supposed to flatten your hair? I’ve been using an iron for quite some time now with fantastic results. Other than that though, it’s an absolute travesty what people get away with in the laundry room. It’s a magnet for the inconsiderate.
Jedith: Welcome and thank you for your support!
G-Lo: College wasn’t that bad because pretty much only the girls and myself did laundry. They weren’t that bad and there were lots of machines in the basement. I was the only guy without a girlfriend/someone infatuated enough with me to do my laundry for me, so most of my social interaction with the ladies happened in the basement with me folding my underwear.
Once again, we here at the Shuck N Jive make every effort to try and sometimes please people… maybe… It’s nice to know that we got lucky at least once and made you laugh.
Jasmine: I feel like you’re correcting my spelling for some reason, but I’m not sure if and when I said moving was the “BAIN (sic)” of my existence. I would have spelled it “bane” anyway, as that is the proper spelling… however, if you are just commiserating, then yeah, it’s the bain of my existence too.
R.J.: Wow, that manager sounds like he has a heart of gold. I only wish I knew more people like him. When my side view mirror on my car was cracked by the person parked next to me, supposedly it was my fault for parking too close. However, I’ve always felt that the car that was moving and hit another car was at fault more than the car that was parked motionless and sans driver.
In your case, yeah, you were totally at fault. I mean, you should have known better than to use faulty equipment. Shame on your inability to read the future.
So in conclusion, yes, I’m looking forward to my (by my I mean my mom’s washing machine. I always shorten up the phrase “my mom” to just my, it’s a quirk) old washing machine.
You win for the longest comment response ever....first you're ignoring your commenters, now we get so much attention it's embarrassing.
Snark aside - just heard there's a possible tsunami off the coast - your parents okay? Mine were just evacuated from Pacific Beach (now so serious that I am commenting on natural disasters...must...find...funny....*gasp*)
The MINUTE I typed the above, feeling all caring and charitable, the warning was rescinded. See, this is why I practice vanity.
Yeah, I saw that too, but from what I understand it’s really not that big of a deal. My parents are a good 5 miles inland, so I’m not worried. And me, well, I’m in the hell that is Simi Valley, so I’m positive I’ll be fine. I think it’s heading down too, and Ventura is right at the point and technically faces south, so there’s even less chance of much activity.
Crap, I was in the midst of typing my response… oh well. Perhaps the mere fact that you showed even a drop of humanity cause the whole thing to subside. It’s not just the LAPD you’re helping, it’s the entire state of California.
I like to think that way. Sometimes I even expand to the whole world, but I'm trying to keep it regional. A girl can only do so much.
Right, you’ve had a hard day, it would be unreasonable for us to expect you to take care of the whole world, or even the whole country for that matter. But let’s be honest, you can really forget about Montana and Wyoming most of the time. And it’s pretty much a no brainer to completely ignore North Dakota too. (hmmm what other states should I offend… oh, I know!) And when is the last time anyone ever even thought about Iowa? It’s been years for me.
I've made it a personal goal to provide attention to both Montana and Iowa. But I'm choosing to exclude Rhode Island (just seems too pointless, really), Puerto Rico (they love what they do) and South Carolina (only state I've never been to - why start now)
My Grandfather lives in Spartenburg, South Carolina. That stings a little bit. But he’s decided life is too short and is soon going to enter the fast paced, high tech, no nonsense world that is Delaware, so I guess you can just keep on ignoring it. And Rhode Island is completely carpeted. It’s the ONLY state that is completely carpeted. That has to count for something…
I figure with that much padding, they really don't need my protection.
Sheesh. Hope your grandfather wasn't in any major police action that I could have solved. Great. Another reason to feel guilty. Unless, of course, he was the perpetrator. Then I made a wise choice.
Actually, he was in textiles. He helped invent corduroy. True story. It’s really not that interesting, but it’s supposedly true. Of course, I think my Grandfather lies to me a lot. Not sure what that means…
One minute I was impressed, the next minute I was shocked. What a compelling, newsworthy moment - or terribly tragic tale of senility.
If he did invent corduroy, I have a score to settle. It's one of the fabrics I just can't wear.
I’ll let you in on a little secret… no one can really wear it, we all just pretend we can. It’s the coolest non-cool fabric out there. I’m not really sure why it’s popular. It makes more noise than most, it’s not that comfortable, and it’s not exceptionally warm either. Of course, I only wear corduroy skirts, so I might not be the best example.
Yeah, I've heard the pants are a big improvement.
I just always wanted to be able to say "hey, I got these new cords." Yet cruel fate denied me that joy. I was once again left in the uncool khaki group, jaw agape at the in-crowd as they high-fived and, in Idaho, drove their pickup trucks into fences for no apparent reason.
Yeah, I never understood why they did that, or, if there were no fences, why they drove around in circles until their truck flipped over (high fiving after each successful revolution). But then again, I’ve never fully understood Idaho in the first place. Always kind of creeped me out how proud of their potatoes they are if you know what I mean.
I myself just started wearing jeans again, so I know what the khaki group is all about. I founded a club in high school called Students Understanding the Comfort of Khakis. (S.U.C.K. for short). We weren’t exactly popular.
Can't imagine why that club didn't go global...
But, hey! Those are some DANG good potatoes. No one makes a potato like Idaho. It's not creepy to be fond of something that DANG good, you know.
I'll have you know that I spent every October of my childhood collecting potatoes. We're not farmers - my parents just thought it was "good for us". My parents are a little creepy, I guess.
On that note, I sign off for the night. Enjoy playing with your other fans....
What fans? You have clearly lost all sense of reality.
Also, I was horribly offended at your multiple use of the swear word “D#ng.” You are walking a very fine line missy. This close (my thumb and pointer finger are mere millimeters apart and but a few centimeters away from my eye (hey, what’s with the metric system? This is America, we use nonsensical English units here!!)) to getting suspended from commenting on my blog. I never thought I would be so outraged in all my life. Well I never!! Hrmph! (my arms are now folded in front of my chest and my head is cocked to the left and looking upward and yes, lips are pursed.)
I won’t be going to sleep for a few more hours… what to do what to do…
A: Poor Air conditioning concerns us all. That gives me a sad smiley ;( (but why am I winking? We may never know…)
Oh I know...it must be MSWord. What other reason could possibly be there.
:( I'm still making these. In fact I think I'll do this the entire day...a minute of silence just doesn't do it for me.
You’re probably right, it must be MS word… Do you have a memory, that no matter what the situation will always make you laugh? I have one, it’s a good thing to have… Keeps me sane…
Pringles story eh? :>
No, I can't think of any. I'm a sad person.
jon, you're right in sticking to corduroy in skirts only. the best way to wear it is so that it is not coming in contact with itself. that solves the erosion as well as the noise problem.
and second, i think your s.u.c.k. handbook was picked up by abercrombie & fitch. if you negotiated a deal, you should be well on your way to millionaire playboy status. what was with the jeans boycott? it can't be that hot out there.
A: Everyone needs a good Pringles story… good memory.
Cadiz: I like my skirts, no question about that. And I mean real skirts, I’m not a skorts wearer by any means.
I’ve never been big on the A&F, but I’m easily bought, so if they want the handbook, I’ll deal.
Jeans boycott was a mental thing. When I was in 5th grade, I split my chin open and there was a lot of blood. For some strange reason, I associated the massive quantity of blood with jeans, so I stopped wearing jeans. Up to that point it had been pretty much the only thing I would wear. I went khaki cold turkey and it wasn’t until about a month and a half ago that I finally put on a pair of jeans again. I’ve been wearing jeans for approximately a month and a half now.
Shocking "Potato Chips" story, exposed:
The taste of Marmite and Vegemite remind me of the taste of pring...sorry...potato chip.
Marmite: British.
Vegemite: Aussie.
Grease lookin' thing that is spread on toast or crackers.
I flee before y'all hurl your empty packages at me..............
I went to bed last night, there were something like 6 comments on this post. I was actually starting to worry that something was wrong.
Then I woke up, and saw 30+. Phew.
Believe me Omar, it was pretty touch and go for awhile. I was afraid I had officially jumped the shark… then G-lo came in and saved the day… again, it’s very advantageous to have a stalker…
yeah skorts are just plain wrong.
HA! I say "jumped the shark" regularly, and rarely does anyone know what I mean. You're a-OK in my book, fool for a horse.
really? no one knows fonzie's famous move?
dude, i just saw the vole move on your earlier comment. creepy.
Yeah, I don't know what's the matter with people up here. I just get weird looks.
The vole is sneaky like that. That's why he's been such a problem in my yard.
It’s pretty rare that I actually come into contact with someone that knows their Happy Days history too. I like the phrase too much not to put up with explaining it virtually every time I use it.
who doesn't know this phrase? Wow, that sounded accusatory.
It is every American's sacred responsibility to know all colloquial, media-based language and its origins. By decree of G.Lo.
BTW - could you move the comments to the top? I know you live to serve me and it would make it so much easier to pad your comments for no apparent reason other than to see myself type if I could access it easier...(in complete self-mocking style)
Hell, I should do that for my own sake. I’m constantly cursing myself for typing so much crap that it takes me way too long to scroll down and look at all the wonderful fluff in the form of comments.
Just part of SRSA - make life a little more pleasant for all involved.
But, and I quote Cate, "long posts are [your] style".
Maybe so, but it’s high time I added some convenience to my style… it’s been said a lot lately that my style is severely lacking in convenience… we’ll see about that! Just call me the Template Terror. You can expect all future posts to be sideways from now on because believe me, I know just enough HTML to be dangerous.
Very nice. I know just enough HTML to whine loudly so that someone else does my programming. I've contemplated the anti-feminist message in that philosophy, but, in the end, settled for happy over helpful.
Nah, I’m more of a do it yourself kind of guy. I tried that whole whiny pouting lips thing, but it never got me anywhere but a slap in the face. So I stick to doing things myself. After all, if you want something screwed up right, you’ve got to screw it up yourself!
Well said.
Most of what I say isn’t well thought out, so I can only assume you’re talking to G. Lo.
Well I'd be a great diplomat here and say I was talking to both of you. And I would quote glos observation on the antifeminist msg support my statement. I usually find myself choosing 'happy over helpful' most of the time.
But if I were to be very honest, 'if you want something screwed up right, you’ve got to screw it up yourself!' is what I found nothing short of brilliant. Total agreement too.
Yo tambien. I never leave it to anyone else to create my disasters.
I’m sorry, I don’t speak Spanish.
But thanks a. I have a genetically fat head, but you’re finding new ways to make my already unnecessarily large head even larger. I think pretty soon I’ll need a specially designed neck brace just to keep it in a semi-normal upright position.
I actually looked up tambien on webster just now in hopes of adding to my GRE vocab even though I thought it didn't sound like English exactly. Then I figured it's your multisyllable thing for Jon.
No, no I was just giving glo some competition in stalking here. Being and idiot was my idea of adding an extra touch to it. See? I was just being an idiot. I do not use flattery to make stalking easier. That wasn't what I learnt from jazz.
Yes, Jazz has her own style. A bit more successful than mine, in all honesty. I concede defeat.
Sorry for the Spanish. It means "me too." I was tired and typing in Spanish at the time to a friend. Guess I suddenly decided the whole world was bilingual.
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