The upside of losing something

I have an excellent memory, but I do have a tendency to lose stuff. The other day, I lost a very important piece of paper. I started turning the house upside down.

First, I took apart the kitchen hutch. While I was in there, I decided to clean up the drawers. Still no paper.

I move on. Maybe it fell behind the couch. I move out the couch and check it out. No paper. While I'm back there, I notice some dust bunnies. So I whip out the vacuum and do behind the couch, as well as the rest of the room.

Maybe it's in the pile of papers on the kitchen table. I go through them, twice. No paper, but I do find papers that need to get filed.

I continue to tear my house apart. I never do find my paper, but at least my house is nice and clean.

I finally cleaned up my blogroll

Yes, I know there were some old n' crusties on there. It's amazing to me how many people start blogs and, like the ham radio or playing guitar, abandon them. You won't get rid of me that easily. In the meantime, if you want your blog added to my blogroll,
shoot me an e.

Cleaning up on a lazy MLK day

I didn't expect to have today off -- after three years working in Nashua, when New Hampshire doesn't observe Martin Luther King Day, I kinda got used to working on this January holiday. But I'll take a paid day off, by gum. Slept until 11 a.m. today and did some housework. We had my parents over yesterday so I did a company clean, so it was a matter of picking up and straightening.

I used to be a notorious slob. My old bedroom in Melrose continually looked like a bomb hit it. When I got my first apartment back in mid-1998, I swore I would change. Since it was a 20 x 20' studio, I had little choice but to keep it clean, else I would be overrun by clutter and my archenemy, dirt. And so every Saturday, I cleaned my apartment, top to bottom. I actually looked at it as an investment in my living quarters and found (and find) it mildly therapeutic. When I moved in late 1999 to my one-bedroom, I kept it up. Since it was less than 500 square feet, it didn't take long, and it made me feel good.

In late 2000 when my lease was up, I gave up the one-bedroom to move into M's two-bedroom townhouse condo. Now I was cleaning for two. And M so appreciated it. Every Saturday, I wouldn't get dressed until late afternoon as I washed clothes, vacuumed, made beds and cleaned bathrooms. I got interested in the cleaning aisle in the supermarket and all the latest cleaning innovations. I became MY MOM.

After we got married in 2002, we realized we had outgrown our condo and wanted our own house. So in late 2002, I moved again -- for the fourth time in four years. Oy. We bought our house, and M jokes he's going to buy us cemetary plots in the back, because he never wants to move again. I'm with him. And you know how I bonded with my three-bedroom, two bath house? You got it: I spend every weekend cleaning the motherfucker. And when it's nice out, I work out in the yard, too. Sometimes I worry that when we have children, my house isn't going to look as nice, because I won't have the time I have now to clean and take care of it. And my friends with little ones have pretty much assured me this is the case. But I look at my friends who rent and I'm so grateful for my house. It makes me happy to just come home to it. If I don't have to go to work, I welcome the snow, because it means I can light a shitload of candles and curl up under my afghan and read, or be with my M, and/or watch a bunch of old DVDs. I'm such a grownup.