July 30, 2006



I am going to test the limits of peoples' willingness to read my blog, by dedicating an entire post to housework.

Today, I washed a bag of goldfish crackers. It had spent weeks by the stove, and so was coated with that film that normally descends on things like spice jars, unused pot covers and the little bottle of Kikkoman. Yeah right, I'm Asian. I don't have a little bottle of Kikkoman. You know the big bottles of soy sauce that Gulliver must have seen in the kitchens of Asian giants? Those are the ones I buy at Costco. I could complement the pork dumplings of several highly-populated cities. Anyway, rather than throwing the grimy bag away, I saved it by washing it. The food whore in me refused to waste an unopened bag of goldfish crackers. Yet another thing I purchased at Costco, so you know it was no ordinary bag of goldfish crackers. That bag could easily provide the Ukraine with a snack. Afterwards, I put the bag in the dish rack, because that's where you put things to dry.

Yesterday, I cleaned up my computer table. To do so, I had to gather up and put away the following items:

-some used cups
-a jar of candy-coated Hershey kisses leftover from Audrey's baby shower
-a 1 oz bottle of Gold Bond body powder I bought because it was cute
-a stack of pictures of people I vaguely recognize from high school
-various receipts and coupons spanning several years
-a keychain of a teddy bear banging a sheep
-a hammer
-a huge scab I picked off and saved to show Geo
-Island Fever 3 on DVD.
-a bottle of Allure perfume
-"Good Spells For Healing" (something I also bought because it was cute)
-an unopened pregnancy test (funny how the key to forcing a late period to show itself is to buy a pregnancy test. Aunt Flo will pay a visit on the way home from the store.)

And a whole bunch of other crap that has nothing to do with the computer.

The household chores I hate the most are anything involving substances you can't or don't want to recognize. The crap under the fridge. The stuff in the hard-to-reach areas of the kitchen, like behind the radiator. When Geo and I moved in together we made a deal that I would wash every single dish we ever used, as long as I wouldn't have to ever clean the toilet or touch one of those mops with the dirty grey strings on them. Each person thinks they made the better deal. Geo hates washing dishes with a passion. I actually find it calming. Like therapy without the $400 an hour price tag.

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