True Confessions

[NOTE: Moderate to high Dad warning.]

First, my usual disclaimer--I haven't been blogging because I've been working on some other writing. I'm not going to get into what it is, exactly, but it could be the beginning of my book, so I need some slack cut here. (In all fairness, though, no one's really been giving me shit about not blogging, so maybe slack has already been cut. . . . )

Anyhow, I felt inspired this morning . . . which is more than I can say for my mental state for most of the rest of this weekend. So, that's my first confession--laziness. I've felt incredibly lazy lately . . . not sure why, maybe it's just the advent of porch-reading season, which, you can pretty much guess from that what I spent most of yesterday doing instead of the spring cleaning I had planned for this weekend. And as long as we're on the topic of confessions, here's some completely random ones from the past couple of days.

Failure to eat well confession
What I've eaten this weekend:
*Popcorn
*Pizza
*Pop-Tart
And no, I didn't intentionally decide to only eat things that start with the letter "p"--it just worked out that way. And I should note--I almost never eat Pop-Tarts. They had them at the convenience store, individually wrapped, and I thought, "Yeah, a Pop-Tart." Blueberry, to be exact.

Listening to bad music confession Three musicians whose songs happened to come on the radio when I was driving and I did not change the station:
*John Mayer
*Kid Rock
*Joan Jett
But really, who turns the station on Joan Jett? Note that this confession will most likely cause me to lose the total respect of at least one close friend.

Things I didn't do this weekend confession
*Laundry
*Cleaning
*Getting off the couch and/or porch much

Watching bad TV confession Shows that I either actively watched or that were at least playing in the background this weekend:
*That Heath Ledger movie where he's a knight and they play David Bowie music
*Charmed
*A bad Lifetime movie about a babysitter who seduces the dad, blah blah blah

Being less-than-friendly to a certain neighbor confession
Mostly because she has a "Vote Pro-Life" bumper sticker on her car and parks in an irritating way in our common lot.

The RWBF and I have something unusual in common confession [Dad warning in effect]
We have both slept with rock stars! Well, granted, his rock star is quite a bit more famous than my rock star, but I slept with mine three times, so. . . . And who are these rock stars, you ask?
Mine: Ross Flourney of The Broken West, formerly known as The Brokedown. You can see his pic here. Obviously, I successfully pursued my crush on him! Hey, is it my fault if we kept in touch over the course of several months, and when his band came through Columbus, he no longer had a girlfriend and I was free as well? And then again a year later? Sometimes things just work out. . . .
The RWBF's: Well, a picture's worth a thousand words, right? So, here's a pic:



See the one in the middle? Yeah, that would be Belinda Carlisle of the Go-Gos. Apparently, the RWBF was working security at one of their concerts, and she just picked him out. And yes, her hair most likely really did look like that--this was 20 years ago.

Am I the only person who did not like "There Will Be Blood"? confession
Seriously, I don't get the hype around this movie. It was slow, boring, and way too long, and I didn't like or feel sympathy for any of the characters, not even the deaf kid. (When a viewer fails to feel sympathy for a deaf orphan, you know something's gone wrong with the character development of a story.) And I know Daniel Day Lewis got a lot of props for his acting in this one, but to me, it just seemed like he was trying to channel a drunken, insane Captain Jean Luc Picard. Also, the ending sucked. That whole milkshake thing? I just don't get it.

Well, that's about all I got for now. Whew! Glad I got all that off my chest. Must get back to the business of procrastinating on cleaning the house, but I'll try not to neglect the blog so much as I carry on with my other projects. Hope everyone had a good weekend!

I need to hire a cleaning service. Seriously.

[Note: I know I've been egregiously (happy, S?) negligent in updating the blog lately. So busy. Work, vacation, and the usual summer activities . . . and just a general lack of motivation, I suppose. But, things have slowed down a bit, and I'm back in the mood, so the blog should be getting some attention in the near future. In the meantime, here's a post I wrote a few weeks ago and didn't post because I wasn't quite satisfied with it, but anyway, I'm putting it out there now. More very, very soon--promise.]

O.K., so in a few days I'm leaving for my Wisconsin trip (which, in case you don't know, I'm doing instead of my Guatemala trip--long story). And I have SO MUCH shit to do. So much. Ever get to that point where there's just so much friggin' stuff to do that you're totally overwhelmed, and you just blow it all off? Welcome to my world!

So, my original intention was to get up early and get started on my long list of tasks immediately. Unfortunately, I had failed to actually make a list--which, having such a list really does help me get motivated. So I woke up, started thinking about everything I had to do, couldn't decide where to start, and instead spent the morning reading, watching T.V., talking on the phone, and fooling around on the computer. Sigh. I did manage to get the dishes done (and there were a lot of them). But then I looked around the rest of the apartment, and all motivation just drained out of me. I hate cleaning. I have limited free time that I would rather not spend cleaning. I can afford a cleaning service. Therefore, I should just hire a damn cleaning service already, right? Right.

For me, though, this seemingly simple solution is problematic on several levels. First, I'm not sure I want someone I don't know in my apartment when I'm not there. I'm not so much worried about theft--it's more about my animals, and in some respects, my privacy. I'm sure, for example, that Josie would be fine and wouldn't attack someone who came in to clean, but I'm not crazy about the idea of her getting comfortable with strangers coming into the house when I'm not here. Also, I know that when I'm cleaning, my cats tend to get in the way a lot. I say something to them and they generally move, or I gently move them . . . but what's to stop a cleaning person from kicking them out of the way? (I know, I know--I'm being paranoid and overly sensitive about the cats. Can't help it. That tiny, bleating maternal instinct within me has to come out somehow.)

And then there's the whole privacy thing. If I'm not there, what's to stop a cleaning person from, say, looking in my nightstand? Digging through drawers and closets? Etcetera? I mean, the temptation is too great for a lot of people to resist. And here's the point where I'm supposed to say, "I have nothing to hide, but. . . . " Bullshit. Everyone has something to hide, or at least, something (or things) in their house that they'd rather strangers not see. (And if you don't, I feel sorry for you--you may need to spice up your life a bit.)

In an alternative scenario, if I have the person come when I'm home . . . well, that's no better. What am I supposed to do while this person is scrubbing my toilet? Read a magazine? Watch Law & Order? Talk on the phone while they listen to my conversation? I just think that would be so awkward.* (And maybe there's a bit of middle-class guilt going on here too. I think this is one of those luxuries that I never pictured myself indulging in. I could probably get over that part, though.)

So, what to do? Well, one thing's for sure--I doubt I could get anyone to come out TODAY and clean my house. Which means I should probably face reality and get to work. Or, instead, I could write a match.com blog entry update. Hmmm. . . .

(*I was talking about this very issue with a friend recently, actually, and this friend was in agreement with me, so I don't think I'm being too weird/paranoid about this. And to that friend--I miss you! Call me!)