Confessions of a Suburban Househusband: Pt. 1

Gone are the days of throwing in a load of wash before work and coming home to dry it at your own convenience. Throughout my entire life, I have always been fortunate enough to have in-suite laundry; that is, until three weeks ago.

Picture it: Etobicoke, 2006. Eight story building + Seventeen units on each building + Four washers + Four dryers = a crap shoot every laundry day. Yesterday was one of those days.

I had many errands to run early afternoon, so I didn’t get a chance to start my laundry in the morning. As soon as I got home at 6pm I loaded up my hampers with pre-sorted laundry (Lights, Darks, Delicates and Towels) and trucked my way down to the basement. Pockets loaded up with a mint of Loonies and quarters. The Gods were smiling on my as I walked into the room and a lady had just taken all of her wash out and was putting them in the dryer… this meant all 4 washers were free. I quickly loaded up the machines with water.

This is where the logic had to come in. Different loads have different needs. I always wash in cold, with the exception of whites. After I figured out which load would go in which machine, I realized that would not work. One machine will only do cold water if it’s a delicate cycle, so I had to stop another washer and move the delicates yonder. After a few minutes I was done and ready to go back up stairs.

I assumed that, because the woman had just loaded up the dryers, I had about an hour and fifteen minutes to wait. Back upstairs I threw my steak on the BBQ, sautéed garlic and mushrooms and mashed up a mean potato. Finish with a glass (or two) of wine and I was stuffed. Dishes done, I headed back downstairs.

“It’s going to be a while.” Commented the aforementioned woman. “The dryers are working slow tonight. This is the 2nd time I am drying these loads and I have another to put in afterwards. So you’re looking at about 2 more hours.” You’ve got to be shitting me.

Long story short, all the laundry got finished and brought upstairs… at about midnight. After folding by candlelight (we have no lights in our living room yet, and The Boyfriend was sleeping so I couldn’t use the bedroom) I resolved to start laundry at 5am from now on.

I think come summer, I will have to pay The Lesbians an allowance to let us use their washer and clothes line. At least it’s only one small flight of stairs. Spending the day trucking up and down on my poodle dress and red heels was murder on my feet. How did June Cleaver do it?

On Top of the World, Looking Down on Creation.

Wow!

I had a lot more stories I was gonna tell about our move, but it all seems senseless now. The move was so long ago, and so much has been forgotten, plus, so much is happening now.

We’re told to live in the present, and let go of the past. This morning I was overcome with a sense that I needed to write. I’ve gotten into the habit of taking my morning coffee on the balcony of our 7th story, south-facing apartment, and this morning the view was spectacular!

Remnants of some tropical storm or hurricane somewhere I’m sure, Lake Ontario is a wealth of waves and white-caps; Willow trees being blown this way and that; The sound of waves crashing along the shore; The wind conducting a song with the bell in our patio garden. What a civilized way to receive your early morning caffeine fix.

I wish I had a digital camera, or at least knew how to work The Boyfriends digital camera. One day soon I will get photos of this spectacular view. For now you’ll just have to imagine:

An unobstructed view of downtown Toronto (CN Tower and all) to the far left. The trees of Toronto Island just beside that. Then lake. Lake. Lake. Lake. And more lake. In the dead of night, you can see Buffalo, NY (or Rochester, depending on who you ask), and the lights of what may be Niagara Falls. Below us is a small park, littered in grass and willow trees, and quite often, a flurry of dogs and their humans.

I love it here.

Tuesday August 29, 2006

The End Of Chapter One:

After a quick morning at work, I headed back to the apartment for the final clean sweep. This would be the end all and be all of leaving. Everything will be out, and all surfaces washed to infinity. I bounced down the street with all the energy in the world. I walked into my apartment and then it hit me…

I’m soooooooooooooooo tired. As soon as I walked in and saw my messy bedroom, I just wanted to lie on a pile of old papers and sleep. But work needed to be done.

It’s funny how you think in your head about all the work you need to do and give yourself a rough timing estimate… and you’re NEVER right. My estimate was 2 hours, 3 at the most.

Survey says: ALMOST EIGHT HOURS OF CLEANING!!!!!!!!

Now, you may be thinking that I kept the dirtiest apartment that ever was. Rest assured, I did not. I just like to leave a house clean and immaculate for the next tenant. I’ve moved into filthy apartments before, and would never do that to someone else.

I spent the entire afternoon and most of the evening washing the windows, vacuuming everything, washing baseboards, scrubbing the floor, running de-clogger (is that even a word?) through the pipes in the shower and sinks. And, of course, doing all my laundry. This would be my last chance to do FREE laundry; from now on it’s collecting quarters and loonies every laundry day and hauling myself down 8 flights of stairs with hamper in tow.

And… We’re done. That’s it. It's over. That really is the end of my time here in Cabbagetown. I’m having a hard time letting go of this for some reason. I’m very excited about what my future holds, but this has been such a great apartment.

Goodbye 325. I’ll miss you.

sigh

Monday August 28, 2006

Back to reality. Back to moving. Back to the tedious, tiresome, toil that is my week.

After a quick cup of coffee, was off to fetch Cousin Janet, co-founder of ‘Sandy Pants Construction Company’. The day looked like this:

- Pick paint.
- Realize you forgot all your ‘Canadian Tire Money’. Curse your fate for having to spend the extra $4.65 or ‘real’ money.
- Head ‘home’ with fresh Starbucks Venti Vanilla Non-fat Latte’s.
- Fill any holes. Sand and wash all walls.
- Have The Landlady come down with more Latte. (Bless her!)
- Paint on a liberal first coat of ‘Almond Wisp’. Make the obligatory joke about me being allergic to almonds, and breaking out in hives.
- Wash up and go for lunch.

Note: This is when Cousin Janet got me drunk. Not only did we share a pitcher then 2 extra pints of beer, but we stopped at the LCBO on the way back for another 6 pack. Oh… this is going to get interesting.

- With the utmost of concentration, we painted on the second and final coat.
- Begin cleaning apartment. And I mean C-L-E-A-N! Cupboards wiped down (“I Love Bleach” exclaimed Cousin Janet), floors swept and mopped. Fridge wiped out. Oven and stovetop scoured. Toilet and shower scrubbed. You could really eat off of any surface in the place.

Once we were satisfied with our work (read: To fucking tired to go on) we had The Halfaneese and Cell Phone Boy come over with snacks… and more beer. CJ and I collapsed on the floor. Our hair a mess, clothes sweated through, a mixture of paint, dirt, dust, cleaning products, and who knows what else on our newly blackened feet. We were mere images of our professional beauty industry selves.

After a lovely dinner, Cousin Janet and I fell asleep on the subway. Hugging each other. Nestled into each others necks. Drooling on one anothers shoulders. Barely conscious of the subway stops as we listened to the gentle hum of the train and the voices of the other passengers saying, “Look at those two bums over there. They’re filthy and they smell and they’re passed out drunk on the subway.”

Hopefully some of them read this and understand the truth.

Note: I have some great photos of the day, bt can not seem to upload them onto blogger. Grrr.

Sunday August 27, 2006

Ahhhh…. The sweetness that is my Sunday Morning Sleep-in!

“Honey! Wake up. We have to go!”

“I don’t want to go to school Mom!”

Oh shit, I forgot! We’re headed to Niagara today.

For details, see The Boyfriends Blog

Saturday August 26, 2006

Saturday August 26:

People at my work are amazing. Everyone wished me well and my clients today… geez, you’d think I lost my dog or something… tips coming out of the woodworks. All week, my little tip envelopes were signed… “Have some wine on me” or “Remember to relax” or “Good Luck” or “Congrats! Put this to first months rent” yadda yadda yadda. All the little envelopes stuffed to the brim with $10’s, $20’s, even a $50 or two.

Work now done It’s time to get to business… I packed up the remaining boxes of stuff and got ready for the onslaught of hired help (read: Good-friends-who-are-easily-tricked-into-helping-haul). Everyone showed up to lend a hand, and as usual, Cousin Janet will be first on the scene. She’s on her way now, so I really should sign off and get some work done.

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WOW! That’s one empty apartment. I can hear an echo, seriously. I totally forgot how this place looks when empty; it’s been full of furniture, boxes, people, parties, animals etc. for 28 months, and now… dormant.

Oh my God. Here I go. I’m all veclempt. Talk amongst yourselves!

This is the first apartment I ever had in Toronto. I found it before I moved here and The Landlady held it vacant for over 6 weeks because she liked me and wanted me to have it. I saw this place and said, “I’ll take it” before I even looked around and asked questions. I pretty much had my signature on the line before I even knew the neighbourhood. I walked in and had such great vibes that I just knew this was “MY” place. My Home! But now…

Now it’s going to be someone else’s place. It’s going to be Nancy’s place. No more parties. No more talking to The Boyfriend on the phone before bed. No more great backyard movie nights. No more talking to my neighbour, Wilson, through the fence.

But you know what? There will be more parties; BETTER parties. I no longer need to talk to The Boyfriend on the phone before bed, because he will be right there beside me. We will one day have our own backyard with movie nights. And there will be other neighbours. Wilson has become a client, so I will stay in contact with her, and make new friends.

Everything is going to be great.

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Well, that’s as far as I had written before taking my computer out of commission for a few days. After that, The Philanthropist and I made a haul of big furniture and had to go back for the mattress and X-mas decorations. Lucky us, we both looked at the city for a few second too long and missed our turn off so we drove an extra ten minutes out of our way, only to get to drive back the said ten minutes. And (no word of this is a lie) as much as the weather looked dodgy all day, it held up… until we moved my mattress outside. The second that got out from cover, the drizzle started…. AND STOPPED the minute we got it in the van. What am I? Charlie Brown with some silly black cloud hanging over my head?

Thank you to the Lesbians for hosting an impromptu “Finished Moving Party”. After all was dropped off we headed there for pizza, salad, crackers, cheese, watermelon, goldfish, and some roll/pastry/yummy thing that Val made.

And, of course wine and beer. The latter has a lot to do with why I have very little memory of many more details. I do remember Jasper being overly cute though.

Such a great dog.

Friday August 25

Special Post Note: All time breaks will be noted with *********************. When you see that, time has elapsed.

Friday, August 25, 2006:

After work tonight, I came home and did my The Landlady’s hair. She has been not only a great landlady, but more recently, a great friend. I confirmed with her that this would not be her last appointment with me, but that I would travel to her and do her hair even after I move. This sat well with her.

The Boyfriend came over and we had a quick rest. I’ve been so tired lately, what with all the moving and what-not. He’s come over to help me attack a few boxes, but really, I just felt like lying in his arms and being alone with him. I imagine that the next few days (weeks?) will have us more ‘discussing’ stuff than relaxing and smooching.

We both have our own way of doing things, and that is going to make it VERY interesting when we start unpacking next week. There will surely be ‘discussions’ re: Whose cutlery will we use? Which coffee pot? Where will this couch go? Whose _______ gets put out, whose goes into storage? It’s going to be fun!

The boyfriend just left. He’s coming down with something, and needed to go home and get some rest. Poor baby, I don’t like when people are sick. I just want to take care of them and make them all better… probably some impact from having a nurse for a mother. But, alas, I can not do. I have to stay here and get boxes ready for the big move tomorrow.

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OMG!!!! Just look around! There’s boxes everywhere. Where the hell do I start? We did some stuff in the kitchen, some stuff in the bathroom, there’s stuff that needs to be done in the bedroom. My God, how is this ever going to be ready for people to come tomorrow and help haul stuff? Next time I move I hope to be independently wealthy so that I can just hire people to do all this for me.

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Well, I just locked myself in the bathroom for a bit. I hate this. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. The bathroom seemed to be an easy place to start; I can’t see the mess and chaos in the rest of my 700 square feet. I organized all my shaving crème, toner, eye crème, T-zone Shine Minimizer etc etc etc into “BOX 20” and filled that line on my “Box Contents List”. Yes, I am that anal that I have a list of exactly what is in each and every box of my move… And yes, I am that gay that I have an entire box for just bathroom shit… and yes I have that much crap in my apartment that I am at BOX 20, and still have packing to do. Gimme a break.

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So… you wanna know the fun part? We all assumed that the new aparntment would be somewhat ready for us to move into tomorrow evening, but… no. The Boyfriend just called from the new place, and it is soooooo not even close. In our heads, we thought that my stuff would move seamlessly into the new spot; even if just one bedroom was ready or something, but apparently, the apartment is full of dust… and paint… and drywall… and dirt… and bugs… and all sorts of grossness. So, the NEW plan is: When everyone shows up tomorrow, we will start to move stuff into The Boyfriends apartment, rather than the new. Because 1300 sq. feet of stuff easily fits into 600. God, I wish I did drugs.

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Well, that’s it. I’m off to bed. I am so tired. I hope to get some sleep in the next… month? Is that too much to ask. I finished the bathroom, and took down my shelving. I finished the kitchen, with the exception of some dry food and what ever is in the fridge/freezer. I organized the boxes so that I have three piles:

1: Stuff getting hauled tomorrow.
2: Stuff getting picked up by their rightful owners tomorrow.
3: Stuff that really needs to get packed so that it can be hauled off tomorrow.

Mind you, it might just be easier if I toss myself and all my belongings off the damn viaduct in the night time.

It’s like 2:23 am and I have to be awake in 5 hours to go to work then move all day. God, I’m a whiney bitch tonight!