Here is proof that he exists.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Hey, Kids!
Well, after a very nice and relaxing weekend in Idaho (thanks Mom & Dad!) I am back in Reno. Getting ready to move at the end of July. Where to? Who knows? I am trying not to stress out about finding a place, but thanks (again!) to Mom & Dad, I am now stressed about it. But I am feeling good: I got a couple of boxes from work today and started packing my books. Man! I have a lot of books. But the conclusion I came to is that I always feel better after some cleaning.
When I was in college and living in a giant house right on 4th St. in Pocatello, I used to clean all the time. One time I gassed myself and my roommate out of the bathroom because I used too many different cleaners at the same time and the window wouldn't open! Another time, the same roommate came home to find me frantically cleaning out the spice cabinet (which in our house, was not a pretty sight). Immediately, she asked, "What's wrong? What happened?" My response: Oh, nothing, just broke up with my boyfriend and the only thing that makes me feel any better is cleaning the shit outta something.
This weekend, Mom and I watched many, many hours of a show called Clean House, which I usually cannot watch because it is on the Style Network, and alas, Dish does not provide that with the basic service. So, I got my fill of the show while I could. I realized while watching this amazing show (which is about a team that goes to people's houses and cleans the clutter out) that other people do not get that same satisfaction that I do of cleaning that I do.
So now I am going through all of my magazines and keeping what I need and recycling the rest. Things I need: pictures of Bono. Pretty much all I have found so far. But even doing that brings such a sense of calm to my mind, that I sometimes wonder why I don't clean all the time? Why don't I do this for a living? I would be really good at sorting through other people's stuff!
When I was in college and living in a giant house right on 4th St. in Pocatello, I used to clean all the time. One time I gassed myself and my roommate out of the bathroom because I used too many different cleaners at the same time and the window wouldn't open! Another time, the same roommate came home to find me frantically cleaning out the spice cabinet (which in our house, was not a pretty sight). Immediately, she asked, "What's wrong? What happened?" My response: Oh, nothing, just broke up with my boyfriend and the only thing that makes me feel any better is cleaning the shit outta something.
This weekend, Mom and I watched many, many hours of a show called Clean House, which I usually cannot watch because it is on the Style Network, and alas, Dish does not provide that with the basic service. So, I got my fill of the show while I could. I realized while watching this amazing show (which is about a team that goes to people's houses and cleans the clutter out) that other people do not get that same satisfaction that I do of cleaning that I do.
So now I am going through all of my magazines and keeping what I need and recycling the rest. Things I need: pictures of Bono. Pretty much all I have found so far. But even doing that brings such a sense of calm to my mind, that I sometimes wonder why I don't clean all the time? Why don't I do this for a living? I would be really good at sorting through other people's stuff!
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