The party general

This weekend is going to be packed for me.

I was tempted to have someone over to hang out with me Friday night, as Jared will be at the Four-Color Supers game for the evening, but as much as I would like that, on further reflection I think I need to spend that time cleaning. I want the house to be spotless for Saturday, and right now it is a certifiable wreck. I am going to do the whole place top to bottom, even other people's dishes if I have to, because I am going to need that whole kitchen to be ready to go on Saturday, when the cooking starts.

I am now trying to marshal my kitchen help, as I am certain I will need a staff for everything I'm planning. In the morning there will be an epic shopping trip, and then I will lay out all the ingredients and tools I will need so when my slaves-- I mean, helpers --arrive, we can just dive right in. Though I've written up the shopping list, I still haven't put together my plan of attack for how the cooking's going to get done. I want to have a plan on how to proceed, as there's a lot to do and I want to finish early to give myself time to clean up the cookware, wash up, and get dressed after all that work. One thing I'm anticipating is needing a lot of fridge space to store my finished canapes until it's showtime, which may prove difficult given how packed the fridge is. I will have to ask the roommates if there's anything in there that can be moved out, at least until the next day. I am confident that if I go into this with a battle plan in mind, it will all fall out the way I want it to. I shall be the general, and party planning shall be my war.

Sunday I am double-booked, but determined to make it work. I have agreed to help lightgamer*, morethings5*, and ninja_report* move from their current place in Waltham to a new place in Watertown. As I am a Waltham local, it looks like I will be on the loading end, carrying out the boxes so that they may be transported and unloaded by the remote team. Sounds very much like a covert military operation when I put it like that. But Jared and I also have day passes to the International Steampunk City, so I am hoping that either before or after helping with the move, we will go over to that and see what's going on there.

Alone in a clean house

All my roommates have left for winter break. As much as I will miss them as individuals, it will be nice to have the place to myself for a bit. I will be away myself for a while around Christmas, but other than that I will be at Elsinore enjoying the brief period of solitude. Nautrally, my first act as soon as everyone was gone was to clean. I cleaned the whole house, from bedroom to basement, except for vaccuuming. I burnt out on cleaning before I got to the vaccuuming, so I guess I will leave that to later or even tomorrow. Still, I am always worlds more comfortable in my space when it's clean, so it is very nice to have the almost the whole place done.

I am now relaxing in my room with a cinnamon-vanilla scented candle and a mug of eggnog. Every time I drink eggnog I think to myself, "This tastes the way I always wanted... something... to taste." But I can never remember exactly what that something is. It might be milk-- the flavor of milk certainly is never what I feel it should be. But it makes me feel nice, and I can use the relaxation and comfort for the moment so I can get more work done this evening.

I don't clean because it's fun, you know

I always take slight issue when someone characterizes me as "loving to clean." I must gently disagree, my dear, with that assessment. Yes, I often wake up early even on the weekends to have time to devote to chores, but I only wish I could teach myself to love cleaning. I also wish I could teach myself to love exercise and hate the taste of Coke and cake frosting. Then certain desireable behaviors wouldn't all be so much of a pain in the ass. But alas, I love sugars and fat, I really do not like most kinds of physical activity, and I get no joy out of the act of cleaning itself. In fact, I frankly distrust anyone who says they "love to clean." When you encounter someone who describes themselves that way, it tends to be a sign that they don't clean enough for it to have become a real chore yet. Because believe you me, it certainly loses any fun or novelty it might have had given how much work that means on a regular basis. What I do get out of it, however, is an extreme sense of wellbeing of the results thereof, having a neat, orderly, and sanitary space in which to feel comfortable and relaxed. It's very disconcerting for me how frequently I encounter people who don't clean on a regular basis because they "don't like it." I don't exactly view that as something that factors into the necessity of the operation. I must say, one of the most surreal and funny moments I've experienced in recent memory is when I excused myself from a social activity on the grounds of having to go do chores, the response I got was, "But you did chores last week."

The Great Move-en-ing, and Jared visit!

Several things to report on, but most importantly, Jared is going to be in town! He is coming to visit from Thursday to Monday, and I'm hoping people will be around so that he can see them at some point during that time. Plans are not totally settled yet, but after I pick him up from the airport on Thursday we will be grabbing dinner in Boston downtown, and then heading to BSCF where I'm hoping for a lovely evening of gaming with friends. Yay! So excited.

The Great Move-en-ing has commence, though less smoothly than I would have liked. Our landlord said we were going to have a cleaning person come in yesterday to do the place from top to bottom (for which a substantial chunk was taken out of our security deposits, grumble grumble) but then the person never showed up. I am incredibly irritated, as we all went out of our way to get the house straightened up for it, and because blendedchaitea* was out of town when it was supposed to happen, I even packed up her stuff for her so it would be cleared away in time. I was happy to help out, but I felt awkward just going through her things, and was really nervous that I would be inconveniencing her because she wouldn't know where I put everything. I called the landlord yesterday to ask what was up but didn't get a hold of him. Sigh. I'll have to try again today, as I was really hoping this would be done before aurora_knight* and nennivian* got here.

Yesterday I also went over to grad to help Plesser and Marissa move in. I finally got to see what the newly remodeled inside of grad looks like. It's actually quite nice, with all the walls and ceilings redone, and all new fixtures and appliances in the kitchen and bathroom. Grad is actually a decent place to live now, but of course, only now that Jared's moved out and I no longer spend half of my nights there. :-P There wasn't actually a ton of work to be done-- there were so many of us that the actual moving of stuff took like two trips --but I'm glad I made the effort. Plesser was in a rather nasty car accident lately, and though he's mostly all right, thank God, he still has blood in his eyes that make him look rather demonic, and isn't supposed to exert himself for the time being. He and Marissa have a two-person grad with a common room, which is quite nice, except that the common-room furniture that Brandeis had hitherto provided was not present. Since they moved in early, it may be that the school just won't deliver it until the last moment, but there is a possibility that they just don't provide it anymore. Which is pretty silly, in my opinion-- why wouldn't they just keep offering the stuff they've been offering in previous years? Oh, Brandeis, what a pain you can be, but I hope Jonathan and Marissa are comfortable there.

So I am preparing myself to make plans with Jared, and help Charlotte and Jane move in on Tuesday. And, if all goes according to plan, I will be seeing katiescarlett29* tonight! I have missed her so, and she's finally back in town. So I am certainly set for occupation and social interaction this week, not least of all with Jared!

MR. AND MRS. GIANT TURKEY

Had a productive weekend, I am pleased to say. This past weekend was the first I've had in a month that wasn't totally committed, so I used the much-needed free time to do whatever I needed or wanted to. Spent a lovely Saturday getting my hair cut and hanging out with friends playing games at the house. Sunday was devoted to chores. The house has been in need of a good cleaning for a while now, and I took care of some things that probably don't get done regularly enough, like polishing the wood and scrubbing the grout in the shower. I am proud of my hard work. This evening I finally got around to parking the mini-fridge in my bedroom out on the back porch to let it defrost. The tiny little freezer compartment has over time become consumed with frost, which is now encroaching on the rest of the space, so it's high time that got taken care of.

Also washed my hair for the first time after the new cut. As I predicted, negotiating where to part it such that my new sideswept bangs lay properly is proving tougher than I would have liked. The place I customarily parted it doesn't quite distribute them the way the stylist had them. It doesn't look bad that way, but I liked the new way too, and I want to figure out how to execute that look on my own if I so choose. I'll have to mess with it some more.

On a final note, on my way home from the gym today I came across two of the biggest turkeys I have ever seen walking around as I went down South Street. I noticed them because a fellow runner had stopped to take pictures of them, so I whipped out my phone and happily snapped a few shots of my own.



Meet MR. AND MRS. GIANT TURKEY.



PLEASED TO MAKE YOUR ACQUAINTANCE.

Though there are quite a few of this sort of bird hereabouts, and I always greet such a sight with a delighted cry of "TUR-keys!" these two were particularly remarkable because they are so big and so flashy-looking that I'd swear they weren't the regular old wild birds you usually see around here. They look to me like they were domestic turkeys escaped from somebody's farm. If so, I wonder how they got there, and what's going to become of them. Quite a surprising sight, and one that made me very happy to come upon.

Resetting the kitchen

I will be glad when the upheaval at Elsinore is settled. There has been so much activity with people moving their things in and out it has not been the most peaceful place to be lately. Also, things are not exactly neat with everything ripped up with the dividing of our various personal things that had previously been for communal use. I am really looking forward to having a neat, orderly house again with random pieces of furniture and appliances and such that are not going to disappear any minute.

For my part, it seems I have secured a kitchen table from Craigslist to purchase, and will be picking it up tomorrow. I plan on bringing a tool box with me in case it fits better in the car with the legs taken off, which given my car seems like a very likely prospect. Also, my rolling kitchen cart is scheduled to be delivered today! I'm very excited. I am also looking into replacing the kitchen shelf. I never much liked that thing, it's kind of ugly and cheap-looking, but since it's useful to have there, I'm going to look into finding a nicer-looking replacement.

It's actually kind of fun to get to reset my kitchen. :-)

Nesty-nesty

Been feeling very... nesty... lately. I keep messing around with things in my space, trying to make them look nicer or get them more organized or cleaner or what have you. It started with just putting away all my winter coats and packing up all my sweaters for the summer. Then, itching to do more, I rearranged my bookshelves, organized my closet, and lined up my shoes. This afternoon, now that the sweaters are out of the way, I intend to redistribute the clothes in my dresser so that they're not so crammed into the drawers. It may get cold enough in the near future for me to need access to my sweaters again, but I'm hoping I can make do with just jackets and pashminas. I am thoroughly sick of the cold, and of the articles of clothing it has forced me to wear for so long.

I'm just feeling unusually compelled to get my living space in order. I'm not sure what brought all this on. I'm feeling particularly cramped by disorder, clutter, and stuff. It might be a reaction to stress, manifesting in cleaning, organizing, and the extreme desire to get rid of ugly and junky things. As I've mentioned before, completing domestic tasks to good effect has a soothing effect on me, so perhaps that's why.

Post-Festival cooldown

Mercifully I do not have to work today. This is wonderful, seeing as the lovely but draining weekend of GMing or AGMing three games and playing one with little sleep in between has left me wiped. Today will be spent finishing my character sheet for the next Labor Wars meeting tomorrow, and getting back on top of chores that were thrown to the winds in favor of preparing for Festival. I will also be producing an LJ report on my Festival experience, but that will come later.

I spent the morning cleaning my disaster area of a room. It's amazing how much damage can be inflicted on a bedroom when you have printed two larps in it, changed costumes several times, and had time only to run in and out of it all weekend. There were scraps of paper everywhere, and I counted no fewer than four pairs of pants thrown out on the floor. It is mostly better now, though I still need to find a better storage system for my shoes than "crammed into bottom of closet."

Chores in earnest

It's a rainy old day. Sigh. I dislike bad weather in general, especially on days when I have a fair bit of driving to do, and it's looking like it's going to last all day.

I have a number of errands to run today. I'm trying to get together with bronzite* for lunch since I haven't seen him in a while. Then I must hit Main Street to deposit a check and mail back the daggers from Julius Caesar to the company they were rented from. I also wouldn't mind getting over to the mall today. Lord and Taylor sent me a nice coupon, and maybe I could find something to take home with me for my mother for her birthday. I think I also might enjoy some aimless wandering around the mall; it's been a while since I've had any real leisure time out of the house.

I did not use my free evening yesterday as well as I'd hoped to. I spent most of it napping until I finally threw away the pretense and went to bed for real around ten-thirty. I had hoped to accomplish a bit more with my time, like finishing Labor Wars character sheets. But I've been feeling tired pretty constantly all this past week, and to be honest this is the first morning in a while I don't really feel draggy, so maybe all that sleep let me finally escaped that slump. I did get my laundry folded and put away, as well as some other small household chores, so that's something at least. After my errands today I want to get back on chore track, though. The house needs a good cleaning, and I haven't had any time before now. I hate making the place spotless just before I go home for a while (no time to enjoy it but plenty of time for remaining roommates to mess it back up :-P) but it's just not comfortable, and tomorrow I'm having dinner guests. Also I am determined to finish my two sheets for The Labor Wars meeting on Thursday. At the stage I'm at right now that is totally doable, I just have to buckle down.

Comfort in domesticity

It never ceases to amaze me how much the accomplishment of domestic tasks soothe and comfort me. The slight edginess of indeterminate origin I found myself suffused with as soon as I got home today was relieved when I knew that a good dinner was in the oven, my room was straightened up, and a load of laundry was in the washer. Knowing that those things would soon be done relaxed me immensely, if only because they would bring about the state in which I am most content-- clean, pleasant, and comfortable.

Philosophy of stuff

Perhaps some of you have heard me go off on one of my impassioned rants against that thing that has come to irritate me more and more lately-- stuff. You know, things, items, objects, physical bric-a-brac that seems to be increasingly cluttering up my life.

A lot of people don't get my aversion to stuff, but I find growing steadily more intense is my desire to disassociate myself from the attachment to physical things. Material objects just seem like such silly things to make emotional investments in. They get lost, they break, and they certainly don't love you back. Also, the more crap you have, the harder it is to clean around it all, leading to dust and general clutter. I can't bear clutter because it robs me of my special love, the clear surface. Not sure why, maybe because it gives me space to do things in, maybe it just makes thing seem clean and organized. Stuff just kind of... gets in the way.

Of course, in the interest of accuracy and fairness, I admit there are particular kinds of stuff I not only like, but actively bring me a specific joy. Dishes, cookware, glasses-- the accoutrements of cooking and eating of any kind. Comfort things likes sheets, towels, tablecloths. Domestic things in general, I suppose, things that make a house more comfortable, liveable, and pleasant. Pretty jewelry and clothes are increasingly becoming a weakness of mine. And as much as I may love how compact, neat, and easily accessible digital data storage is, nothing will ever replace the sensation of a book in your hands.

So, yeah, I guess I don't hate all stuff. But notice what all these things have in common. They are all highly functional, have a closely defined storage space, and tend toward being visually attractive. They are used frequently and efficiently for very specific purposes. Cookware goes in the cabinets, jewelry goes in the jewelry box, clothes go in the closet, books go on the shelves.

I despise tchotchkes. I despise things that have no use other than to sit out collecting dust and taking up counter space. Nothing makes a place more uncomfortable and claustrophobic for me than overcrowding with badly organized stuff. The few that I do have were all gifts from important people-- my boyfriend, my best friend, my brother. And though I usually like them at least a little, I mostly keep them around out of consideration for the person who was kind enough to give me a gift. But honestly I kind of wish they hadn't bothered. For me, the thought is enough. I don't have to dust a thought.

Early in our relationship I remember Jared was constantly giving me things, and whenever money needed to be spent he would always try to pay for me. I appreciated his desire to show affection that way and take care of me, but it made me kind of uncomfortable. I really don't like the equation of love with the willingness to spend money, not to mention I don't really want to have any more stuff. I want to trade off paying when going out to eat, and have people know I would rather they write me a little note saying something nice to me than have them buy me anything. I have had to lay down some pretty firm rules about this issue with some people, as I do not want any advantage taken, nor the appearence of the same.

The other thing is, closely related but for me a distinct issue, I especially don't like junk. If I am going to concede the space and money to the having of a physical thing, I really want it to be worth it. I would rather save up and spend a little bit more on the version that is actually nice and what I want than get the cheap and junky version that isn't as durable, attractive, or useful.

Sometimes I just want to go through my space and throw away stuff in big armfuls. But even I must concede sometimes it's better to have it in case you need it, rather than having to go out and buy it when the contingency arises.

Chores, writing, workout

Today is a day for chores and for writing, honestly the kind of day that leaves me the most contented and at peace. The house is clean, there are fresh sheets on the bed, and the laundry is folded and put away. Now there is just my room to straighten up now; it needs dusted and vaccuumed and wood polished.

Once all that is done, I'm going to settle down to some serious work. I'm going to lay out the first planned session of my Burn Notice game-- Bernie, lightgamer, morethings5, and Marissa will make up my player pool --and once the characters are built, I want to hit the ground running with it. Also, I've finally figured out the extra plotline I think Oz needs, so I'm going to work that out as well, and then write it into the appropriate character sheets. I'm hoping to get a run going when Jared visits the weekend of the 18th, so I need to get it nailed down before then. I'm so glad to have a date finally nailed down for the visit; it's been entirely too long.

I'm enjoying my workout lately, and have been sticking to it pretty well. I think it's helping, but it's a little tough to tell; I'm certainly not quite at the level of definition I want yet. It's a little more than a week after the last tummy shot was taken, but here's the current state of things:

Announcement of awesome

I would just like to take this opportunity to point out how awesomely efficient I am.

I woke up at eight and wrote the last page of my paper. Finished by eight-forty-five.

Washed and dressed. Took paper, walked to campus, handed in the paper by nine-thirty. Got breakfast, called my mom on the walk home. She's doing well, by the way, and she sends her best.

Got home. Ate breakfast. Started cleaning house by ten. Cleaned kitchen, bathroom, living room, and basement by myself. Finished by eleven-forty-five.

Met Jared for lunch at noon at his place. Packed him off to class at one. Straightened up his room for Zachariah to crash in and threw in a load of laundry so the guest will have clean towels.

It is now one-thirty. I have my shopping list in front of me for dinner tonight. I will be meeting Bernie to borrow his Dutch oven from him, and at three Elana and Steph and I will go shopping. All the remains is for Jared to get out of class and return my car to me.

My plan is perfect, because I am the master of planning. Bow before my mad housewife efficiency skills!

;-)

Home at Elsinore again

I am now back at Elsinore, and it's nice to be home. I unpacked my things, threw in a load of laundry, and cleaned the house. It really needed it, and I feel a lot more comfortable with everything neat and clean. Now the whole house smells like lilac; it's very pleasant and relaxing. Also, I finally got my au gratin pan in the mail! When my parents bought me all that All-Clad, they got a certificate you could mail in and get a free au gratin pan, and now it finally arrived! It's very nice, and I look forward to using it. My domesticity instincts are quite well satisfied.

In a couple of hours I will be going to pick up Jared and Elana at the airport. They're both from the Chicago area-- Jared from the city proper and Elana from Skokie --and they happened to book the same flight back, so I will be grabbing them both together and bringing them here. I'm looking forward to seeing my boy and my friend. I ordered Jared's favorite pizza from Upper Crust for him to have to break the Pesach fast; I think he'll enjoy that. Later tongiht I will be going back out to the airport to bring Bernie back; I'm not thrilled to be going out into the city so late and for the second time in a day, but I'll be glad to have him back as well.

So, overall, it's good to be back.

Elsinore to myself

So, with Dave and David away for the weekend and Mac and Sheena at Arisia, I have the house to myself. I like it this way. So, what's the very first thing I do with my bachlorette pad to myself? Clean, of course! I blasted bad TV in my room while I scrubbed the place down-- it really needed it. So, now that things are neat and lovely again, I am pleased. Too bad I couldn't have gotten all that done before bronzite* and Bernie came over for dinner last night. It was really nice to see Bronzite after not getting a chance to for a while, so it was a good time. I made a recipe from the Rachael Ray cookbook my parents gave me for Christmas, roasted haddock in breadcrumbs topped with onion and tomato. I'd never made it before, and it came out very nicely. I still have one huge filet left that I didn't even cook. Maybe I'll do something with it tonight.

Am I really that domestic?

I just hung my spare tension bar in the side of my closet and slung all my scarves over it. They are now elegantly displayed and eassily accessible. I am absurdly pleased with myself, as I tend to be when I accomplish little feats of domestic genius.

Speaking of my domesticity, I had a little dinner at Elsinore the other night. Bernie and I made my mother's meatloaf, which came out beautifully, with baked potatoes, peas, carrots, and asparagus. I came to a strange realization during the course of making that dinner. I was joking with morethings5*about my domestic inclinations, calling myself a fifties housewife at heart. I make that joke fairly frequently lately, given how much I care about keeping the house clean, how I wish I had more time to perfect my cooking skills, how I have caught myself literally vaccuuming in pearls. Christ, I was in WIlliams-Sonoma the other day gushing over glassware, declaring that I must immediately get married so I can register for lovely things from there. I would be good, I declared to Kindness, at doing the housewife thing.

I joke about it, but I never actually think about it-- about what that would be, what that would be like, actually doing the housewife thing. I thought about it, thought about it seriously for probably the first time in my life. And I found something kind of surprising. I... think I might actually be able to do it.

I don't mind cleaning, and I never seem to have the time to keep things as clean as I'd like them to be. I feel really comfortable and satisfied when everything is neat and scrubbed and made t look nice. I love cooking, another thing I never seem to have enough time for, and would love to be able to seriously improve my skills in the kitchen. I enjoy running errands because I like having the time for solitary contemplation while wandering around town. I'd also always have time to do the personal stuff that gets pushed aside by my other responsibilities-- I could get on schedules for all the things that get away from me, like working out. And the kind of work I want to do, writing, isn't easy to get a day job for. I could focus on my writing without worrying about relying on it. And if I were to have children, I don't really like the idea of them never seeing me and being raised by strangers.

This realization shocked me. I'd never considered not working before; I'd always assumed I'd do the career woman thing and try to balance domestic life with that. I was actually kind of disturbed. Would I actually be content with my biggest responsibility being housework? Don't I want more than that? What kind of feminist are you?

But then I stopped again. Isn't feminism about choice? Isn't it about women doing what they want to do, whatever that is, and nobody gets to tell them what that should be? If that would actually make me happy, because it would let me focus on the stuff I really want to do, is there anything wrong with that? It's not like I couldn't write and would have to give up the work that means the most to me. Why should intellectual pursuits only be valid if you're getting money for them?

In my family, women working or not working was never a big deal either way. The men have always been the primary breadwinners, . My grandmothers worked a little, not much. My mother is an art teacher who worked off and on for most of my life. When my brother and I were small, she quit work to stay home with us to raise us herself, and returned to work once we were school-aged. Her career was thrown off track when her mother developed Alzheimer's and required constant attention. Again, she wanted to take care of her family herself, and that took her out of the workforce for about five years. Since then it was difficult to get back in, so at the moment, she isn't working. But she still does her art, and probably more than she was able to when she was teaching.

It kind of bothered me that I was thinking that way. And yet, at the same time, I wasn't really bothered, and it bothered me that I felt like I should be bothered. It doesn't really come to anything, this is just thinking out loud, but it's strange to me.