Everything Good For You Sucks

I am a rather introverted person.  That doesn't come as a shock to anyone, does it?  I mean, in certain situations you'd never know it, and on the internet we're all loudmouthed jerks of varying degrees depending on the level of anonymity in whatever corner we're hiding in at any particular time.  But generally speaking - in real, physical, actually-interacting-with-actual-people life I am an introvert.  I've known it for a long time.  I've been ashamed of it, I've tried to hide/overcome/change it, I've felt like it was something I needed to fix about myself.  And in the last couple of years I've finally started to accept that this is just who I am, and that it's not a bad thing to be . . . even when it seems like I'm the only one in the world sometimes.

At this point I'm sure it doesn't sound like it, but this isn't something about myself that I think about a lot anymore.  But it was brought up to me a little while ago, so I've been paying more attention to what goes on when I'm out and about with people.  And I noticed something in the last couple of weeks that I already knew, but I guess I'd forgotten - I'm not very good at the whole "having conversations" thing.

I think I've mentioned once or twice that I prefer communicating in writing as opposed to verbally, because in writing I can change things as much as I want until I've got my words expressing what I actually meant to say.  When I talk a lot of the time I know what I meant, but that's not what the people I'm talking to hear.  Sometimes I know where things got lost and sometimes . . . not so much.  But when someone asks you a question in person, you have to answer more or less immediately.  A response in writing can take a lot longer without looking weird/rude. (side note/fun fact: this blog post is probably going to take me most of the afternoon)

I saw this gif recently, and it really describes me perfectly - especially the second box.  And that, I think, is what makes it so hard for me to have a conversation . . . because I've also noticed that it's a lot easier for me if it's one-on-one rather than a big group of people all talking.  I get lucky sometimes with the occasional witty one-liner or something, but generally speaking the more people there are involved the more likely it is that by the time I think of something to say the group will have moved on to four or five new topics and my comment is completely irrelevant now.  And of course since I'm trying to be a good listener and they say good listeners don't just think of what the next thing they're going to say is I'm getting my topics mixed up and feeling guilty for thinking too much of myself when I should be listening to the people I'm spending time with but if I didn't then I would never say anything and that would just look weird . . . and I just can't win.  L'esprit de l'escalier?  Story of my life.  All.  the.  time.  One on one is easier, but even then sometimes I find myself at a loss for words - even with Luke, and if you don't know how to talk to the person you're married to, how the crap are you supposed to talk to anyone else? 

I suppose it's something I should practice.  Actually, I had a roommate who would try to get me to practice . . . mostly, I think, as practice for her since she was a psych major, lol. (love you, Cindy!!)  And it worked great because we were roommates and she was one of my best friends and so we'd just sit in the living room and chat so it didn't take that much effort on my part.  Because we all know I'm not one to go out on a limb for social interaction.

Man, three years of blogging . . . the list of reasons that a shrink would have field day with me must be in the quadruple digits by now . . .

Anyway.  I'm a little at a loss.  Hiding in a hole forever isn't exactly a practical option (even if it is what I mostly do in the summer).  Practice doesn't seem to help - heaven knows I've had enough to make me a pro if that were the case.  Like I said, I've been paying more attention lately and I can see exactly where I'm . . . failing, I suppose.  But what does one say when one doesn't know what to say?  When the mind is blank or you feel like you have nothing to add to the conversation?  It's not that I don't feel welcome - but I do feel overwhelmed sometimes.

I suppose it's no surprise really that I have over 1200 books on my to-read list, is it?  Books let you talk when you're ready.


To end on a lighter note, a classic Luke-ism for you: we were playing Disney trivia.  I don't remember the question, but the answer was Crimson Tide, and as a hint Luke said we'd watched it at my parents house once.

Me: No we didn't.  I've never seen that movie.

Luke: Yes we did.  Wait . . . that was Hunt for Red October.  But they both have red in the title!

I cracked up . . . but maybe that's because I've won 17 games to his 6. :-)


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I . . . kind of want one.  Don't judge.

Even When I'm Not Trying

So I had no intention of pulling any pranks yesterday. None. Whatsoever. Frankly, I'm pretty sure there are a couple that can't be topped.

Keep that in mind as you enjoy this conversation from yesterday afternoon.

Luke: What's the date today?

Me: The first.

Luke: Of April?

Me: Yep.

Luke: Hey, it's April Fool's Day! *takes drink*

Me: Yep . . . oh, by the way I'm pregnant. (said sarcastically)

Luke: *chokes* WHAT?!?!?! You're kidding right?!?! Wait . . . that was a joke. Right? Was it a joke? It was a joke.

Me: *facepalm*

I didn't even try to make it believable. It was a spur-of-the-moment, random statement that we were both going to laugh at . . . and he "fell" for it anyway. I must be better at pranks than I thought.


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Poor kitty . . . how can such a look of terror be so adorable?

Pattern for Forever

Talk about targeted advertising.


So. Jump into the flashback machine with me.

*wavy lines and harp glissandos here*

The time is 2007, the place is Florida. Luke and Lacey are about to go on their first date. In a conversation taking place before that date, Luke asks Lacey what her favorite flowers are. Lacey says roses and marigolds.

First date. Luke brings Lacey flowers. "See, they're mums, you said they were your favorite!"

Awwwwwwww, he tried to remember. And he kind of got close!

As things progress Lacey reminds Luke of this story and explains that it's actually marigolds, not mums that are her favorite. Giggles all around.

Okay, flashback over.

*more wavy lines and pastel colors and dream-sequence music*

So. Saturday. We're talking about Valentine's Day and Luke asks what I want to do. I say he knows what I like. He says that chocolate and roses are just so cliche. Which is true, but doesn't change the fact that I like them. I mean, cliches become so for a reason, right? In this case, I will gladly embody the cliche . . . mostly because it's a delicious one.

Anyway. Luke goes on some more about how he feels like such an unoriginal slacker going the chocolate/roses route and he wants to be original when - "what's your other favorite flower again? Mums, right?"

Maybe it's only funny to me, but I cracked up. We have this EXACT conversation at least three times a year - in February, April, and May. And sometimes at other random times. Meaning we've had this very same conversation at least twenty times. The part that really gets me is that it's not just that he doesn't remember marigolds, but every single time he remembers mums specifically. It's not daisies or violets or petunias or some other random flower - it's not some other flower that starts with M (and I can't think of any off the top of my head, so it's actually not that surprising that Luke doesn't come up with any). No, it's that every time he remembers the same wrong flower and every time he's so certain he's finally gotten it right this time.

Until I start laughing. And then he immediately realizes he got it wrong again. And we laugh together at it might be even better than actually getting the marigolds in the first place. :-)

In fact, one time there was even a declaration of "no, I remember now! I get it wrong every time, but now I've got it! It's not marigolds, it's MUMS!" He was so sure of himself it was rather sweet. And funnier than usual.

Do you think by the time we're both 100 he'll have gotten it straight? :-D

Also: I'm totally craving some powdered sugar donuts now.


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Just cool.

Eleven Epic Ecritures

(Note: ecritures = French for writings. Because no way was I only going to be 2/3 alliterative, lol.)


1 ~ Singing Rebecca Black's "Friday" to the tune of Justin Bieber's "Baby"? Epic. I'm not sure if it's epically awesome or epically horrifying . . . but it's definitely epic. (btw, did I spell Beiber right?) Turns out sometimes 5th graders aren't obnoxious, but actually funny!

2 ~ Today in 5th grade: listing things that fall into the category "things with wings." The group I was with came up with only bird and plane (and one kid had bat). So I asked them to come up with one more that was neither bird nor plane. This ensues:

Kid 1: Eagle!

Me: That's a bird.

Kid 2: A flamingo!

Me: That's a bird.

Kid 3: A jet!

Me: That's a type of plane.

(Georgette): I know! A wingless bird!!

Me: *blank stare. about three beats*
*cracks up*
(thinking) aaaaaaaaaand two strikes with one swing!

Georgette gets a code name because I have the feeling this is not the last you'll be hearing from her, lol.


3 ~ Passing a random first grader in the hall - her eyes get big. "You were the princess kitty on Halloween!!" Dude, even the kids who don't know me know who I am. Pretty sure I've achieved rock star status or something. :-)

4 ~ Conversation with Luke today:

Luke: When is Thanksgiving?

Me: The 24th.

Luke: What day?

Me: *blank stare*

Luke: I don't know what day of the week that is!

Me: *face palm*

Sometimes all I can do is roll my eyes and think this. (at part 1:17)


5 ~ Bit of trivia for you - about 90 years ago an American woman came up with the idea for wearing poppies in November for Veteran's Day (then Armistice Day). Apparently it caught on pretty big. It's still big in Europe . . . in America . . . not so much. Interesting, no?

6 ~ Assuming I could put together an accurate recreation of these . . . things . . . would this not be the most horrifyingly creepy Halloween costume ever? That smile . . . those elbows . . . they're going to give me nightmares!!

7 ~ The Mark of Athena? Needs to be out now. Not exactly Deathly Hallows level of need . . . but DUDE, I hate waiting for books to come out!

8 ~ Throwing jeans in the dryer in the morning so they're warm when you get out of the shower and dress? AMAZING!

9 ~ Obnoxious neighbor story. So our downstairs neighbors sort adopted some stray cats forever ago (meaning the cats showed up and the neighbors fed them). Then our diagonal downstairs neighbors moved in and didn't have any objection to the cats. Then we move in. Fast forward to about six weeks ago. Diagonal neighbors have purchased a fancy new car and now the cats are suddenly unacceptable because apparently one of them threw up on their old car once. And their new car is, like, unwashable or something. So they complain and the landlords say get rid of the cats, which is sad because everyone else loves the cats and they keep the mice out of the outdoor storage sheds. Almost as soon as the cats are gone the fancy new car inexplicably disappears never to be seen again. And last week the universally disliked (and not just for cat-related reasons) diagonal neighbors move out. Seriously? You're too lazy to wash your new car so you get the cats disappeared and then you move out? Dear ex-neighbors: you suck.

10 ~ Scraping windows also sucks. Totally trying this sometime soon.

11 ~ Black Friday starts at 10:00 on Thursday?! Is there no low too low for someone out there to sink to in order to make a buck? Here's hoping no one shows up for at least a few hours . . . but I doubt it.



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A fun little video, particularly for the Tiger Mother readers out there, lol. And it takes some serious talent!

6

Day 6 ~ Your favorite superhero and why.

You know, Shayla is a hardcore Superman girl. She even has a tshirt that says "I <3 Nerds" and over the heart is Clark Kent pulling his shirt open to reveal the his super suit underneath.

Me? Not so much. I've never really been in to the whole superhero thing. No, my fictional heros have always tended toward the more literary side. I have kind of a lot . . . here's a few:

(note: if you don't recognize any of these characters, please don't tell me so I don't have to judge you. because I am totally going on the assumption that you are all as well educated as I think you are and not giving their sources.)

Elizabeth Bennett. For all the obvious reasons. Yes, I can be cliche sometimes. (keep that in mind going forward . . .)

Anne Shirley. Again, the reasons are probably pretty obvious. I still kinda want to be her. Well, the blonde version, I guess.

Hermione Granger. Because I kinda was her, kinda wanted to be her.

Hester Prynne. Not, perhaps, quite so obvious. But aside from the obvious, she really is a very strong character and good role model for those who can see what is admirable in her.

Katie Scarlett O'Hara Hamilton Kennedy Butler. (that was probably a little show off-y, wasn't it? a bit of overkill? oh well.) I know most people have nothing good to say about her, but I kind of adore her. I mean, think about it. Here is a girl who epitomizes the spoiled, pampered princess who is raised to believe she will never have to lift a finger in her entire life. And then her world is turned completely upside-down and she's forced to grow up pretty freaking quickly. So the experience didn't leave her much like Melanie (whom I also adore, btw) but she did what she had to do. She was personally responsible for keeping a dozen people from starving to death at one point for crying out loud! Her methods are most certainly questionable, her motives cloudy, but her determination and motivation are utterly admirable.

Catherine Earnshaw. Totally admire her passion.

Winnie Foster. Girlfriend's got guts. On multiple levels.

Mina Harker. If those Y-chromosome bearing idiots hadn't been so focused on protecting her and actually let her help things would have been taken care of lots quicker. Stupid boys.

Tess Durbeyfield. Talk about enduring to the end!! I would love to have HALF her inner strength for coping with endless crap.

Katniss Everdeen. Ummmmmmmm . . . duh!!!!

There are more. But I get the feeling I'm boring you so . . . peace out . . . or something . . .

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Luke is looking forward to experimenting (his word, not mine) in a like manner some day with all manner of random experiments. Worry not, my minions, I shall be manning the camera.

(note to self: get minions so that makes sense.)

In Honor of Mother's Day

A freshly produced Luke-ism for your enjoyment. Last night, after I made some off-hand comment about Mother's Day:

"Oh that's tomorrow, isn't it? I forgot! I'm such a horrible . . . what am I? A son? I'm a son, right?"

Good times.

Also, not that you care . . . or that it matters . . . but today is my one year blogiversary. Hooray for me. *happy dance*

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Not that there was much script for this to be post, but anyway . . . yeah. I am proud to say that my mom is more web savvy than this! :-) Not that there's much web-using in this one . . . but it's awesome, and that's the only tie-in I could think of.

Evilness . . . hee hee hee . . .

So I ordered Luke's Christmas present off Amazon last week. And then I gloated to him about doing it when he got home from work, telling him how perfect it was and how he's going to love it. And he spent about an hour trying to guess what it is. And then I did it again when it got here a few days later. And now it's sitting under our little tree, the only present there yet. And once in a while I giggle maniacally and he looks all incredulous and can't understand how I can be this excited about watching him wonder, and then - eventually - watching him open it up Christmas morning. Because seriously. I. Can't. Wait.

I've always loved having secrets. It's so much fun to know what's in the box when you know somebody else doesn't know. Maybe it's a little bit evil . . . but it's so fun!!! Of course . . . I'm also one of those people who just has to know everything. In fact, I'll even admit to shaking presents occasionally - gently, just in case whatever's inside is fragile. (On that note - I never shake the presents from my grandparents. They're always wrapped/packed too well. Grrrr.) I could almost always get Rian to tell me what my present was, clear up until just a few years ago. Although in that case I'm not sure if I enjoyed knowing what was in the box more, or knowing that my 14-year-old brother wasn't realizing what he was telling me any more than my 4-year-old brother did back in the day. Good times. I usually forgot what it was by Christmas day, but just knowing that I knew felt good.

On that note, can I just say that milestone birthdays are a little bit obnoxious to me? I mean, everybody else knows what Grandma and Grandpa are getting them for their 12th birthday - but only because I (and everyone else between me and them) got it first. Grrrr. I hate going first! :-P

You know what the best part of wrapping presents is? Giant boxes for little presents. Putting round things in boxes and square things in round almond roca tins. (Almond roca . . . mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Random tangent: I love almond roca. It always makes me think of my great-grandma Dora - Dad's grandma. She always had almond roca at her house, and every Christmas she's send us some with a tin of Danish butter cookies. I still can't eat either without thinking of her.

Tangent over - back to wrapping presents. The smaller the resent, the bigger the box - and the more the fun. I've also picked up Dad's habit of completely sealing the cracks in the wrapping paper with tape except for just one tiny little sliver. So then you have to search all over the thing to find the one place you can tear to start opening it. Fun stuff. :-)

Have I mentioned that Christmas is my favorite? It kinda is. And I'm soooooo loving the whole winter and snow thing this year . . . man have I missed this!!! (please note: the fact that I have missed having white Christmases will not stop me from complaing about the snow in January. That's just how I roll.) Yay for wintertime!!!

Luke-ism for the-indeterminate-amount-of-time0until-I-post-another-one: (said last night as he's reading his big, fat, 15-pound dictionary) Hey look, it's my two dollar bill! . . . I didn't know I had a two dollar bill . . . wait - why do I have a two dollar bill?

Good times. :-)

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So we saw this yesterday whilst watching Amazing Race and . . . ummmm, what? Who in their right (well, apparently wrong) mind thought this was a good idea? Who could even consider this a gift?!? Apparently there's a Hannukah version too . . . I'm officially weirded out now. However, it is funny in a "what were you thinking, you idiot?" sort of way.

Back to Work!

So this was the first week it was possible for me to sub . . . and I worked two days this week! Yay! Not only that, I'm booked for one day in October, two in November, two in December, and one in January - the money's rolling in now!!! :-) Okay, maybe not so much . . . but this is definitely an improvement. Even just working once a week would be, among other things, a financial miracle for us. Woot.

Thursday I subbed at Millville. It was fun, but kind of overwhelming. And I'm so glad Drew was there too, because holy crap that school is confusing when it comes to finding your way around!! I'm probably still going to be getting lost at the end of the school year. The first group I worked with were little terrors . . . well, the boys were. The girls were pretty good. Sadly, we only got about halfway through the lesson because I kept having to bring the boys back on task. I think they could tell I had no idea what I was doing. Then the last thing I did was hall monitoring - that was weird. And I felt really short when these fifth graders walked by that were almost as tall as I was.

The hall I was in had one of those huge maps of the world. I was looking at it idly and I noticed that something about Russia just didn't look right. It was too big. And I was pretty sure I could see the word "soviet" in there, but it was all spread out like they do with big countries and I was too far away to tell for sure. So toward the end of my hall monitoring time I wandered over to the map. No Latvia, Lithuania, or Estonia . . . it had the good old USSR. And Yugoslavia. And Czechoslovakia. (did I get that even close to right?) That one was really weird for me to see, because I distinctly remember the day my fifth grade teacher explained to us how the Czech Republic and Slovakia had split, and yesterday they were one country but now they're two countries. So I had to find a date on the map. Guess what date I found. No, seriously - guess.

1989. Crazy, no? That map is older than my little brother. My little brother who is a high school graduate. Talk about outdated materials!!! This is why the one thing in politics that makes me mad is education cuts. (the main reason nothing else makes me mad is because I don't understand it . . . seriously. any and all Washington talk is completely Greek to me.) I mean, come on! You give kids materials that are twenty years out of date, and then you expect them to have a thorough and accurate education? Umm . . . not happening. I am firmly convinced that this is the reason for Miss South Carolina a couple years ago. Obviously it's no wonder that Americans are so terrible at geography - on the off chance that they actually look at a map that shows more than just the US, it's probably from a time period they don't remember, either becuase they were too high on *insert popular drug of whichever decade here* or too young.

Anyway. This one wasn't supposed to be a rant. Friday I was at North Park. And I did more or less absolutely nothing. Good times. The lady I was subbing for was supposed to be giving her kindergarten kids a test, so Aunt Loretta tested them (and how convenient was it that we were in the same place almost the whole time?! Score!) and I got to color all day. Well, watch them color. Good times. It made me want to break out the coloring books I bought in Florida . . . I haven't colored in ages!! So I did. Yay!!!

So here's hoping to a lot more subbing gigs in the future. I like this game!

Luke-ism for the week: so last night we were talking about babies . . . I think we'd been watching some silly baby videos on youtube or something. Anyway, he asked me if all babies like peek-a-boo, and I tell him every baby I've ever met does. And he says, "So it's like all babies come with peek-a-boo pre-installed?"

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In case you didn't get my reference earlier. I love the look on Mario Lopez's face at the end. He's this close to absolutely losing it!

Tidbits

No big rant or even topic today, just some random stuff that happened this week.

~ So one of the front wheels of Luke's car is practically about to fall off, so Luke's started walking to work since it's only about 15 minutes away and I pick him up since he gets off at midnight. So Monday while I'm walking back to the apartment I'm walking under the porch or walkway of whatever that's lets the people on the second floor get to their door and I feel something fall on the side of my head. I figure it's . . . actually, I had no idea what it was, but I kind of shook my head and ran my fingers through my hair and I couldn't feel anything, so I figured whatever it was just kept falling right on down. If only. So I get into our apartment and I'm taking my shoes off and I feel/hear something fall and there on the floor, having just fallen out of my hair, is this GINORMOUS SPIDER!!!!!! Seriously, it was, like, twice the size of a quarter. Have I ever mentioned I'm rather arachnophobic? And that the intensity of said arachnophobia is directly proportional to a) the size of the spider, b) if it's moving, and c) how fast it moves? Because . . . yeah. It was big. And moving. Slowly, but it moved. *insert scream here* Except for I'm not really a screamer. Mostly because - especially when I'm startled by the sudden appearance of spiders - mine is a rather paralyzing fear. I seriously couldn't move or speak for a minute or two. And of course Luke was in the bathroom, and I couldn't let that thing get away, so I had to go get the little dust buster vaccuum we got to suck up box elder bugs ad suck the thing up. And of course, because my luck is like that, we had neither used it nor put it on the charger for a while, so there wasn't very much suck left in it. (side note - if a vacuum really sucks, is that a good thing?) So I'm holding the vacuum up in the air watching as the spider sloooooooooowly gets dragged into it (it's clear . . . Luke likes to watch the little bugs he's just sucked up wader around inside it) and listening to the sucking sound slowly die and hoping it'll last long enough to get the spider inside. You know how in monster movies when someone's getting sucked into some weird flower monster's mouth and they hold onto the floor trying to slow the sucking down? It looked kind of like that. the good news is, there was just enough suck left to get the spider in. Neither of us had ever seen a spider that looked like that before. Luke was bored a couple days later at work so he googled it, and apparently it was a cat-faced spider. And super luckily they don't bite unless you really goad them into it. This thing was in my hair!!! Holy traumatizing. Seriously, I keep imagining I feel something falling onto me . . . I hate spiders.

~ Thursday Luke was off. We went to Preston. I know, it sounds really lame, but Luke's a huge Napoleon Dynamite geek and he's been dying to go ever since he found out how close it was. I was rolling my eyes the whole time. Drew and I were talking later, and like we said, people around here may love Napoleon, but nobody here goes to Preston. Because Tremonton and Richmond and Smithfield are all exactly like Preston. But it was fun . . . even though I did feel a little silly going into King's and DI and taking pictures. But it was pretty cool to be driving down the street and suddenly seeing Pedro's house. Even though we were looking for it, it was still a little bit of a surprise to see it - it looked so familiar, and yet I've never in my life been to Preston before, unless you count driving through it a million times when I was younger. I'd never been off Main Street, so I don't count those times. We did take a lot of pictures, I need to get them up on facebook.

~ I have a job . . . sort of. Aunt Loretta hooked me up and now I'm a reading aide sub for North Park And Millville Elementaries. I have no idea how often I'll be working, but it's better than nothing. On that note, however, if you hear of something full-time or even part-time with more consistent hours, I'm totally still up for that.

~ So I'm the ward chorister for sacrament meeting. Well, one of them . . . we switch off every week. I was the RS chorister in Florida, so when I was called it didn't seem like a big deal. But I don't pick the songs this time around. All four songs today had four verses. And we sang all four of all four. I made the mistake (I kid!) of telling my visiting teacher about my old calling (because it's hers here), and let's just say I'm really glad she didn't need me to fill in for her today as she has before, because by the end of sacrament my arm was DEAD! I should probably start doing push ups or something. Maybe one-handed push ups.

~ Okay, last one. Luke has, like, no experience with little kids. I don't think he's ever even held a baby. That would be such a weird concept to me if I hadn't met about a dozen other people like that before I met Luke. Anyway, today in Sunday School there was a baby in front of us, just a few months old. And the baby had the hiccups. (side note - aren't baby hiccups one of the cutest things in the world?!) Luke starts chuckling a little, so I ask him what's so funny, and he leans over to me and whispers "That baby is malfunctioning." I almost cracked up, which would have been awkward since we were in the middle of the lesson. But seriously, how funny is that?! Luke is always saying silly things like that. It's like I'm in a never-ending episode of "Kids Say the Darndest Things" . . . except Luke's, like, 26. Well, almost. Things will certainly be interesting when/if we have kids. (Aunt Loretta - isn't that almost better than a Tannerism even?!)

Aaaaaanyway . . . yeah. That's all. Good times.

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And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why I only watch the audition episodes of American Idol.

A Slight Reversal of Gender Roles

You know what the best thing about being married is, at least in my case?

Well yeah, that too. But I was actually referring to the fact that Luke is an absolute cleaning nut. He loves to clean. Scrubbing, moping, sweeping, wiping, he does it all. Except the dishes. We have an arrangement - he cleans the bathroom, I do the dishes, and we'll split the rest of the chores. But when it comes to heavy duty cleaning, he loves doing it. In fact, right now he's doing a major spring cleaning of our new apartment. You see, when Luke moved from Tremonton to Logan back in January, he bought a spring semester contract that some kid was selling, and got four months of rent for, essentially, $150 a month. Score!! But that contract is up tomorrow, and for us to sign a new one we had to do a month to month lease. The apartment we were in was on the top floor, and townhouse style. And $50 a month more than the first two floors, which are only one level. I didn't quite get the reason for the difference, because all the apartments are 2/1's, and I thought, if anything, the top apartments should be cheaper because not only to you have to haul all your crap (and yourself at the end of a long day) up six flights of stairs to get to your apartment, to get to the bedroom or bathroom you have to go up even more stairs. I remember that as the biggest pain in the butt my freshman year of college, when I was also on the top floor. But that might have had more to do with the fact that I had no car, so I spent all day walking. And the fact that those dorms were really old and CRAPPY. But I digress. Anyway, it turns out that the lower apartments have, essentially, no kitchen. No, seriously. We traded a small, but manageable bathroom and a positively spacious kitchen with even a little more cupboard space than we needed for a bathroom twice as big - and really bigger than we need - and a kitchen that only has room for one person at a time. I kid you not. I think it's about 8 inches wide . . . maybe less. And cupboard space? Forget it! Right now half our stuff is still piled on the counter (which is pretty good sized) and dining table because . . . well, partly because after hauling everything downstairs today I was rather tired and didn't want to do anymore . . . but also because I have no idea where I'm going to put things because our cupboard space has been more than cut in half. Blargh. Happily though, my awesome husband (still not quite used to saying that!) brought me a make-shift pantry home from work. Okay, so it's actually just some shelves that we put in one of two living room closets, but it works. And seriously, TWO closets in the living room? What's up with that? Forget the closets and give me a kitchen I can turn around in without having to sidle out of it! I'll definitely have to post pictures soon.

Anyway, back to the cleaning. As I mentioned, Luke loves cleaning. Honestly, as long as I agreed to do the dishes, I don't think I'd have to do anything else for the rest of my life. And on one level, I could totally roll with that. On the other hand, sometimes I find myself bored and wanting to rearrange and clean rooms. So I imagine I'll be doing my share of cleaning. But if there's one thing I absolutely loathe . . . other than tourons . . . it's deep cleaning. Cleaning things that haven't been cleaned in years . . . if ever. You know the stuff. Behind the fridge. Under the stove. Scary places like that. But for the last three hours or so, that's just what Luke's been doing. And even though I haven't really seen anything, I've been grossed out, and slightly terrified for his life, because I keep hearing these noises coming from the kitchen. Things like "ewww, disgusting" and "oh my . . . ick" and challenges and threats directed at the grease and gunk. Those last are really the most disturbing because, sure, everybody talks to inanimate objects every now and again, but challenging decades old grime to a duel of honor where the weapons are 409 cleaner and a big bucket of soapy water? Either I'm in way over my head, or the toxic cleaning fumes are getting to him. I have the distinct feeling that either way, I should be worried. And on top of just the general nastiness of it all is the fact that the girls who used to live here were (and probably still are) Indian. As in from India, not "the peoples indiginous to North America." So, they of course cooked with curry. I'm not particularly familiar with curry, but apparently it's pretty slimy and sticky. And nasty to clean off the side of ovens. And refrigerators. And counters. Luke, in describing the nasty scene I was content not to see, called them "range boogers," saying it was like the stove wiped its boogers on . . . well, pretty much everything. And then they dried. Eww. So I've kept to the living room, protecting my virgin eyes from the horrors of a college apartment kitchen. Because I know every other place I've lived for the last seven years has been just as nasty. Again, eww. I would almost rather have just left this place the way it was and pretend it was clean just like my first run-down on-campus place. Or the totally ghetto place I just left in Florida.. They were filthy. I'm sure they were. But no one ever pulled out the appliances to clean behind them, so we could all happily pretend it was pretty and spotless underneath them. That's my version of cleaning - if you can't see it, then it must be clean. Of course, when the sludge starts oozing out from underneath the stove, it's probably time to pull it out and wipe down the floor. Or replace it, as the case may be.