Hemorrhoidal Tendencies: The Laundry Edition

Welcome to Hemorrhoidal Tendencies, the occasional feature of my blog where I complain about the things in this world that are a pain in the ass. 

Don’t let the name of my blog fool you. I did not get the nickname “Maid” because of my love of housework. Like most normal humans, I would rather do just about anything else. There is one chore I don’t mind though, and that’s laundry. In fact, I kind of enjoy it.

Once I finally grew up into an actual bona fide adult and got my own washer and dryer, my relationship with the wash improved. No more creepy apartment building laundry dungeons or equally creepy laundromats. Yippee!

 

I find doing the wash soothing and satisfying. If that makes me a weirdo, so be it. I love having everything clean and fresh smelling; folded and put away. I love it when I can wash every single item of dirty clothing except the clothes on my back. If I could convince Mr. Maid that we should adopt Naked Laundry Day in our house, I could get ALL the laundry done for once. The idea of having a house completely free of any dirty clothes – well – that would be a dream come true! Continue reading

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The Autumn of My Discontent

After reading Molly’s latest post on her blog Shallow Reflections, (check it out – it never fails to entertain,) I realized it’s time to re-post this little bit of fiction. The time comes around earlier every year. Enjoy!


interrogation

The interrogation room is cold. I’m pretty sure I read somewhere that they do that on purpose – anything to make you feel uncomfortable. The temperature, the buzzing florescent lights, and the hard metal chair are all doing their jobs and filling me with unease and a sense of impending doom.

I’ve been sitting here for what seems like hours (another time-honored technique, I’m sure) and have had time to reflect about the last 48 hours. Jeff told me I had to be careful. He had tried to talk me out of it. “Can’t you just go along to get along?” he asked.

“I’ve had it!” I had answered. “I can’t just sit back and watch while the powers-that-be do this to innocent people. Continue reading

Preparing for the Solar Apocalypse

There’s nothing like a natural phenomenon to get people all riled up. In case you haven’t heard, certain parts of the United States are going to experience a total solar eclipse on August 21st, and everyone around here is going bat shit crazy.

solar-eclipse
Image from Discovery Center at Murfree Spring

Don’t get me wrong, it is kind of exciting. It’s being billed as a “once in a lifetime” kind of thing. For various sciency reasons that I won’t get into here, (click here or here if you want to learn more), this hasn’t happened in the lower 48 states since 1979, and won’t happen again until 2024. But here’s the kicker – it will never be in the same place again.

And that place, this time, is pretty much right in my backyard. Continue reading

Aspiring Not to Aspirate

I’m not generally a hypochondriac, but as I’ve gotten older, I have my share of moments when what’s going on in my body scares me. It’s like staying in a haunted house. Every creak, every sensation makes me stop in my tracks and listen. It could just be the old house settling on its foundation. Then again, it could be something malevolent intent on doing me in. Ah, the joys of aging!

Knowing me, however, my demise is more likely to come from doing something really stupid.

Last Thursday night, Mr. Maid and I were eating dinner. It was one of my ordinary weeknight menus of spaghetti with meat sauce and garlic bread.

easy spaghetti

In defiance to all rules of etiquette, I was chewing a big mouthful of pasta while simultaneously trying to talk. I can’t remember what I was saying, but it was making me also start to laugh. The combination of chewing, swallowing, talking, and laughing was apparently a little more multitasking than my brain and body could handle. As the phrase goes, my food went “down the wrong pipe.” Continue reading

Hemorrhoidal Tendencies: The Driving Edition, Volume 2

Welcome! You’ve stumbled upon Hemorrhoidal Tendencies, the occasional feature of my blog where I complain about the things in this world that are a pain in the ass.

In my first entry in Hemorrhoidal Tendencies I discussed some driving pet peeves. Every time I get behind the wheel, I realize I’ve only scratched the surface. Here are a few more things about driving (or more accurately, my fellow drivers) that can make me want to turn a pleasant Sunday drive into a scene from Death Race 2000.

You’re Not Fooling Anyone

Even the most conscientious drivers among us are guilty of breaking a driving laws on occasion. Is there really anyone out there who never goes over the speed limit? Or failed to signal a turn when no one is around? I didn’t think so.

One source of driving guilt that is probably most common is distracted driving. I myself have been known to grab a burger on my way out of town to eat while tooling down the interstate at 75 miles an hour. But over the years I have seen people put on mascara, shave, clean their ears with cotton swabs (yuck,) apply nail polish, and – I kid you not – read a textbook by the glow of the dome light. Continue reading

And God Said “Thou Shalt Eat Thine Casserole Without Complaint”

picky-eater

Today is the first Friday of Lent. Catholics and other religions mark the 40 days before Easter (actually 46, but Sundays aren’t included) with various forms of atonement and self-denial. The rules have relaxed considerably with time. When my parents were children the devout were still into some serious fasting, whereas during my childhood, things centered mostly on not eating meat on Fridays. Thankfully, children are no longer terrified that they’ll spend eternity in hell for a beef jerky.

I was raised Catholic, but I no longer practice. Some things, however, have remained etched in my psyche. If I were to pop into a Catholic mass, muscle memory would take over and I could recite my lines perfectly. And, to this day, I feel guilty if I eat meat on Fridays during Lent. Continue reading

Love Stinks!

I’ve been happily married for almost 17 years to my best friend.

Until I met my husband, however, my love life was mostly comprised of angst, uncertainty, and disappointment. This was particularly true during my college days.

For as long as I could remember, I was either chasing boys who had no interest in me, or running away from boys who liked me. Unrequited love was my thing – whether I was on the giving or receiving end.

Then I met my first serious steady boyfriend in college. He was a definite improvement on the numskulls I usually fell for, but he went to a school a few hours away. Long distance romance can be hard enough as it is, but this was 1983: pre-cell phone and pre-internet, and thus pre-email. Long distance phone calls were expensive, so people actually wrote letters and sent them snail mail! We would right each other once or twice a week, call once in a while and visit each other when we could.

While I was single, I dreaded Valentine’s Day. I lived in an all girl’s dorm, and at about 10 am, the flowers and packages would start to arrive at the front desk. Continue reading