Wednesday, August 18, 2004
Cleanliness is NOT next to godliness…
So I recently (over the weekend) started seeing someone. I had been out on a date with him before vacation, and mentioned him briefly. But on Friday, after work, I took the NoodleDog over to his house so we could all go to the park (he has a puppy). I will say that the evening was very enjoyable, and we had a fantastic dinner that he cooked. The NoodleDog got grouchy with the puppy towards the end of the evening, because he kept trying to steal whatever the NoodleDog was playing with at the time so they could “play” chase. But overall? I think the evening went well. I spent the two subsequent evenings with him, so I guess it had to have been alright!
What I did want to discuss today was his house. He lives in the South part of the city, and I live North of the city itself, so his house is far from mine. That is not the problem. Not in the least. He has a very nice house, and has done a fair amount of work in it (painting and such) – the kitchen is large and bright and has a window to the back yard (a feature I really love), the living room is large and bright and has a big window to the front yard (which has in it two apple trees!), the bedrooms are all hardwood and seem to be very nice. That is not the problem.
The problem (and this is probably just me, here, the rest of you will think it’s great) is that the house was absolutely immaculate. There was no stuff anywhere. There was no dirt. There were no belongings lying around. The bathroom was spotless, and had nearly nothing on the counters. The kitchen was organized better than, say, a military kitchen (which is the only organized kind of kitchen I can think of to compare it to). The knives were organized and INSIDE a cupboard. The cutting board was INSIDE a cupboard, too. The spices (and yes, he has spices and herbs, even though he’s a guy, and his roommate is a guy) were so neatly organized that I didn’t dare touch them. I had to get him to get them down for me. As we prepared the stuff in the kitchen, each implement that was used got rinsed in the sink and either put in the dishwasher or cleaned more thoroughly and put away. He showed me his “appliance cupboard” in defense that his place wasn’t that neat (he meant to indicate that there was a mixer “just thrown-in haphazard”, but it worked against him) – the cupboard had several appliances like an electric grill, sandwich maker, etc. lined up so that their faces touched the front of the cupboard edge.
Fine, you think, he has to be hiding a mess somewhere. But no, no he isn’t. I looked. When he was outside putting stuff on the grill, I looked around. The living room is clean. There is nowhere to hide stuff. You can’t hide it under the sofa because the hardwood is visible beneath the sofa through the raised legs. There isn’t a closet you can cram things into, either. I checked.
I can see the spare room being empty except for the bed. But his bedroom has a small dresser in it, and a closet, and the closet isn’t full. I didn’t look in his roommate’s room, but the bathroom? You’d think they’d have toothbrushes and soap and stuff. And maybe shaving things? Or hairbrushes? True, he shaves his head, so the hairbrush would be superfluous, but is his roommate shorn as well?
So, I think, maybe he keeps his comfortable living things in the basement. Some people do that. Some people like the cool-in-summer/warm-in-winter thing and don’t mind the dark. It’s better for watching TV, for instance.
No, his basement is organized, too. He has some comics memorabilia, but it is all properly shelved or on display on the wall. The Entertainment area seems fairly organized, as well. The killer is the camping stuff. He has several sleeping bags, and they are all HUNG NEATLY FROM THE CEILING. And his footwear? Just guess where it is. It is neatly organized on shelves behind the stair wall. Each shoe or boot occupying a cubbyhole, pointing in the opposite direction from its mate. Underneath the stairs is a cold storage area, and it’s like this eerie portent that the end is near. So many cans. So many dry goods!
The only remotely “messy” thing in the house was the blanket on the couch in the basement. It was thrown in a heap at the end of the sofa space. It was comforting to see.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not knocking the cleanliness. However, it does make me pretty nervous, because eventually, this guy is going to come over to my house, and see my stuff everywhere, and that’s going to be the end of that. Because:
My kitchen has in it a bar full of glasses and alcohol (of course!), but under the bar is where I store my leftover Christmas chocolate (on the little support bars underneath the glass). My kitchen table is actually a bar-height patio table (with matching chairs). It’s high enough that the cats’ food can be on it and the NoodleDog can’t get it. Under the table? Are the soft drink boxes. Empties go in the empty ones, full ones waiting to be loaded into the fridge, since I can’t have fruit juice any longer. There’s a comfy chair with an afghan on it that the cats sleep on. The NoodleDog’s crate is in the kitchen. There is a large shelf with the microwave on it and some pet supplies, and a plant on the top. The countertop at the end of the counter has the NoodleDog’s snacks and stuff on it. The countertop next to the fridge has my spice rack (which is messy), my cutting board and my breakfast drink-mix. The fridge has some things ON TOP of it, like extra dishtowels, a pitcher for iced-tea, some Tylenol for when I’m too lazy to go upstairs to get it and I have a headache. The counter beside the sink has a cookie tin on it (that has two-year-old cookies in it, no kidding, but they’re still good so I can’t throw them away), some canisters, my clock-radio and cellphone charger. The counter on the other side of the sink has a dish dryer and a dishcloth (lying flat) on it, as well as the NoodleDog’s measuring cup for his food.
The pantry beside that cupboard has in it my dry goods and some paper supplies (like coffee filters, paper towels, etc.), and the NoodleDog’s bag of food, along with empty bottles until they get recycled.
And that is just my kitchen. AFTER I CLEANED IT!!!!!!!
The rest of my house is full of stuff. It’s not necessarily messy (well, at the moment because I cleaned it in case he comes over), but it is full of stuff. It is lived-in. There are signs that I live there and frequent the place. There is footwear all over in various stages of readiness. The front-hall closet has four seasons’ worth of outerwear in it. The living room contains not only the entertainment stuff, but the accoutrements like videotapes, DVDs, remotes, magazines, TV Guide, etc. and a number of animal toys and ancillary components (clippers, trimmers, brushes, combs).
He’s supposed to come by this evening after The NoodleDog’s class. If he makes it past the front hall, I’ll let you know.
What I did want to discuss today was his house. He lives in the South part of the city, and I live North of the city itself, so his house is far from mine. That is not the problem. Not in the least. He has a very nice house, and has done a fair amount of work in it (painting and such) – the kitchen is large and bright and has a window to the back yard (a feature I really love), the living room is large and bright and has a big window to the front yard (which has in it two apple trees!), the bedrooms are all hardwood and seem to be very nice. That is not the problem.
The problem (and this is probably just me, here, the rest of you will think it’s great) is that the house was absolutely immaculate. There was no stuff anywhere. There was no dirt. There were no belongings lying around. The bathroom was spotless, and had nearly nothing on the counters. The kitchen was organized better than, say, a military kitchen (which is the only organized kind of kitchen I can think of to compare it to). The knives were organized and INSIDE a cupboard. The cutting board was INSIDE a cupboard, too. The spices (and yes, he has spices and herbs, even though he’s a guy, and his roommate is a guy) were so neatly organized that I didn’t dare touch them. I had to get him to get them down for me. As we prepared the stuff in the kitchen, each implement that was used got rinsed in the sink and either put in the dishwasher or cleaned more thoroughly and put away. He showed me his “appliance cupboard” in defense that his place wasn’t that neat (he meant to indicate that there was a mixer “just thrown-in haphazard”, but it worked against him) – the cupboard had several appliances like an electric grill, sandwich maker, etc. lined up so that their faces touched the front of the cupboard edge.
Fine, you think, he has to be hiding a mess somewhere. But no, no he isn’t. I looked. When he was outside putting stuff on the grill, I looked around. The living room is clean. There is nowhere to hide stuff. You can’t hide it under the sofa because the hardwood is visible beneath the sofa through the raised legs. There isn’t a closet you can cram things into, either. I checked.
I can see the spare room being empty except for the bed. But his bedroom has a small dresser in it, and a closet, and the closet isn’t full. I didn’t look in his roommate’s room, but the bathroom? You’d think they’d have toothbrushes and soap and stuff. And maybe shaving things? Or hairbrushes? True, he shaves his head, so the hairbrush would be superfluous, but is his roommate shorn as well?
So, I think, maybe he keeps his comfortable living things in the basement. Some people do that. Some people like the cool-in-summer/warm-in-winter thing and don’t mind the dark. It’s better for watching TV, for instance.
No, his basement is organized, too. He has some comics memorabilia, but it is all properly shelved or on display on the wall. The Entertainment area seems fairly organized, as well. The killer is the camping stuff. He has several sleeping bags, and they are all HUNG NEATLY FROM THE CEILING. And his footwear? Just guess where it is. It is neatly organized on shelves behind the stair wall. Each shoe or boot occupying a cubbyhole, pointing in the opposite direction from its mate. Underneath the stairs is a cold storage area, and it’s like this eerie portent that the end is near. So many cans. So many dry goods!
The only remotely “messy” thing in the house was the blanket on the couch in the basement. It was thrown in a heap at the end of the sofa space. It was comforting to see.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not knocking the cleanliness. However, it does make me pretty nervous, because eventually, this guy is going to come over to my house, and see my stuff everywhere, and that’s going to be the end of that. Because:
My kitchen has in it a bar full of glasses and alcohol (of course!), but under the bar is where I store my leftover Christmas chocolate (on the little support bars underneath the glass). My kitchen table is actually a bar-height patio table (with matching chairs). It’s high enough that the cats’ food can be on it and the NoodleDog can’t get it. Under the table? Are the soft drink boxes. Empties go in the empty ones, full ones waiting to be loaded into the fridge, since I can’t have fruit juice any longer. There’s a comfy chair with an afghan on it that the cats sleep on. The NoodleDog’s crate is in the kitchen. There is a large shelf with the microwave on it and some pet supplies, and a plant on the top. The countertop at the end of the counter has the NoodleDog’s snacks and stuff on it. The countertop next to the fridge has my spice rack (which is messy), my cutting board and my breakfast drink-mix. The fridge has some things ON TOP of it, like extra dishtowels, a pitcher for iced-tea, some Tylenol for when I’m too lazy to go upstairs to get it and I have a headache. The counter beside the sink has a cookie tin on it (that has two-year-old cookies in it, no kidding, but they’re still good so I can’t throw them away), some canisters, my clock-radio and cellphone charger. The counter on the other side of the sink has a dish dryer and a dishcloth (lying flat) on it, as well as the NoodleDog’s measuring cup for his food.
The pantry beside that cupboard has in it my dry goods and some paper supplies (like coffee filters, paper towels, etc.), and the NoodleDog’s bag of food, along with empty bottles until they get recycled.
And that is just my kitchen. AFTER I CLEANED IT!!!!!!!
The rest of my house is full of stuff. It’s not necessarily messy (well, at the moment because I cleaned it in case he comes over), but it is full of stuff. It is lived-in. There are signs that I live there and frequent the place. There is footwear all over in various stages of readiness. The front-hall closet has four seasons’ worth of outerwear in it. The living room contains not only the entertainment stuff, but the accoutrements like videotapes, DVDs, remotes, magazines, TV Guide, etc. and a number of animal toys and ancillary components (clippers, trimmers, brushes, combs).
He’s supposed to come by this evening after The NoodleDog’s class. If he makes it past the front hall, I’ll let you know.
