Adventures in Laudromatting

I try to make the best out of everything and I was tested by that today when I realized I just really, really could not put laundry off any longer.

Laundry for most is just a minor inconvenience.  Up until two years ago, it was the same for me.  You pop it in the washer and go about your business.  It buzzes and you switch it to the dryer.  Big deal.  You can be cooking dinner, sitting on the couch watching this week's Walking Dead from the DVR, even getting ready for a night on the town.

But not when you don't have a washer and dryer in your home.

Now, I can't bitch too much about this because when I took my apartment, I knew this would be the case.  I actually *owned* a washer and dryer before I moved here and ended up giving them to my dear friends who helped move me in.  (If you saw my place, you know why that's a really big deal.  It was a bitch to move into -- they deserved more than a washer and dryer.  Which is why they got a futon too.) :-)  I had to decide whether the conveniences of living here was worth that annoyance.

Very cheap rent.  No security deposit or lease. All utilities included except electricity. Extremely responsive landlords who not only come immediately when you mention a minor annoyance like a dripping faucet, but look around and replace all your burned out light bulbs at their own expense while they're there.  In the heart of the city.  Walking distance to pretty much anywhere I want to go (including a couple laundromats) and off-street parking for the car that sits every weekend because I don't have to drive it anywhere.   So not having laundry? Small price to pay.

Though sometimes it gets annoying as hell anyway. 

So I tell myself those things above.  That all those benefits far outweigh the fact that I might have to schlep a basket or two to my car before work in the morning so I can stop at the laundromat on the way home. Because, let's face it: when you're home, you're home.  Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't.  Sometimes I need a new reason or two to appreciate that going to the laundromat is really not such a big deal and I should just deal with it.

It still, in all my years, never ceases to amaze me that when I put something like that out into the universe, it responds in a way that makes me get over my annoyance and actually enjoy the experience.

In the past couple months, after begrudgingly making time to do this necessity, a few things gradually became clear.

1)  When I'm at home, I don't do some the things I truly love because there's always something else I "need to do."  Whether it's scrubbing the toilet or stripping the bedclothes or a number of any other household tasks that call out to me to be serviced instead of just curling up on the couch for a night with my book or writing a letter to a friend.  Going to the laundromat actually gives me that time! I can actually kick back for an hour and lose myself in a story or conversation without the guilt that I should be mopping the kitchen floor instead.

It reminds me of my first year out of college when I lived in Milwaukee, didn't own a car and had to take the bus to my job (as an Estee Lauder counter manager at a mall -- but oh, that's a story for another day!).  I actually treasured riding the bus for the very reason that I could just curl up against the window and read my book.  I guess I made the best out of that situation way back then too.

2) I've become part of the neighborhood.  Where I live, most of the apartments are actually old houses turned into multi-living units as opposed to big apartment conglomerates that have the facilities on site.  It also means a lot of the folks who live here live in their own homes on the streets too.   I can count a few times now when a neighbor was walking down the street past the laundromat I was in (curled up on a comfy chair, reading my book of course), recognized my car and so popped in, bought me a Coke from the vending machine (actually a Cheerwine --Southerners know what this is) and just shot the shit for a while.  That can't happen when you're sitting on your own couch waiting for the buzz, right?

3) I actually CAN multi-task even away from home. I have two laundromats I frequent. The choice du jour usually depends on its location.  One I go to just to chill.  The other is next door to a grocery store, my gym, bars and eateries. There have been times where I've browsed stores in the wash cycle, then actually did my grocery shopping after popping it into the dryer.  Come back just in time to empty and fold my clothes and all errands are done at the same time.  Granted, I can only do the grocery thing in the colder months (can't be letting the moose track ice cream melt in the trunk while I fold afterall), but the gym part works out perfectly.

4) I meet new people and have great conversations.  About a month or so ago, I had the pleasure of chatting with a few different folks on the same night.  We were all there doing the necessary chore and making the best of it.  I talked with a lovely woman named Amy who lived down the block from the laundromat: turned out we were going to the same festival at the city park (a few blocks walking-distance for both of us) so we shared stories of the last time we went to the event.  A gentleman there overheard us and told us he was actually a guitarist in a band who would be performing there.  Turns out we had both heard of his band before so our twosome became a threesome.  An older gentleman, sitting off to the side and working on his laptop most of the evening, approached us later as he was leaving with his now-clean basket of wears [sic] and mentioned he enjoyed overhearing our conversation and laughter, especially since he had been the first there, knew we were all strangers initially, and enjoyed just overhearing it all happen.

In a world where people can easily talk to strangers behind a computer screen or phone, there's something special about actually being able to do it in person. I daresay it's even becoming a skill.

So when I schlepped my clothing basket to the car before work this morning and I remembered it was there halfway through the day and almost dreaded having to actually do that task before finally being able to be home?  I fortunately remembered these actual blessings that came with the inconvenience.  And so I didn't mind it at all.

And now I'm writing this down, lest I ever complain again and need a reminder: you can always try to make the best out of everything, Stacy. Because when you approach it that way? It more often than not actually becomes a very amazing thing.

A Little Pain, a Big Lesson

I am in a ridiculous amount of pain.

I nearly sliced my entire right index finger's knuckle off last night when a glass I was washing broke in my hand and a sharp, curved piece jammed itself deep into my hand.  Thankfully, it lodged against some muscle or tissue or something instead of going straight through.  When I finally got it stop bleeding, I was left with a half-circle gash around the top end of my knuckle, a cut deeper than any I've experienced in many years, and being as it was right on the bend, it kept breaking open and bleeding and clotting back up and breaking open and bleeding and, well, you get the picture.

I'd actually SHOW you the picture but I don't think you'd want to see it.

Eventually I managed to bandage it up and hoped my overnight sleep would give it that enough motionless time to seal back up for good.  It did.  What I hadn't counted on this morning though was the excruciating pain and numbness: the excruciating pain of two flaps of skin stretched to their almost-ripping point to try to seal up a gash in their fabric and the tingly numbness that now exists in half of that hand...until I do something stupid like try to use it.   Which I have been doing all morning.

As I'm right-handed, what were once the simplest tasks are now ridiculous. 

Shampooing my hair took 4x as long with just one hand.  I'm pretty sure there's still soap in the back.  Holding a hairdryer was out of the question completely.  The hard boiled eggs I made yesterday for this morning's breakfast?  Still in the fridge: no way can I peel them.  Driving to work was interesting. I didn't even have the ability to turn the key in my ignition:  had to reach across and do it with my left hand (same with the parking break release) -- which is terribly awkward and feels like you're doing something bad to your ignition switch.  And even now, so used to typing a billion words a minute two-hand typing, I'm at a loss with my right hand.  I'm still typing all well and good with the left and hunting and pecking with my ring finger on my right (it's the first on that hand that's not completely numb).  And let's not even go into how long it takes to use the bathroom today, okay?

And that's just the little things.

Because then I realized: wow. These ARE the little things.  Little inconveniences I have to put up with now...and for a temporary amount of time even (or so I hope!).  I've never broken a bone or anything so I really haven't ever been in a situation like this much, even temporarily.  And, Lordy, it is frustrating!  And I'm not making light of my frustrations.  This sucks and I have a right to be frustrated.  But it's also got me to thinking about others.  What about those folks who not-so-temporarilly have to adjust?  Our hundreds of military personnel coming home from war missing limbs or dexterity in them?  People of poor tragic accidents like that of Aimee Copeland, who lost both hands completely to flesh-eating bacteria?  How do they do it?  Or even folks with debilitating conditions, extreme arthritis or joint pain they've had so long they cannot remember their last pain-free day?  How do these folks do it?

I guess I always believed what people say: you just do. If you have to, you just find a way.  And although I understand that, I don't think I even realized how difficult that actually IS until today.  The simplest, everyday tasks are a struggle for me today.  What if I had to accomplish something BIG?  And what if this wasn't just a temporary inconvenience?

Yeah, I don't think I'll be taking the little things like being able to brush my own teeth or push an elevator button for granted again.

Drop a dime in the Jukebox and Let It Play.

Tonight on my drive home from work in cold, rainy Atlanta traffic, I was able to keep sane by the music I could play on my radio.  Because my car is still fairly new and SiriusXM has real competition now from companies like Pandora and other free streaming sources, I still have an extended offer through them that probably would have ended a year ago if not for all that.  So I flipped around on their offerings.

I do use their service: it's coming into the car afterall.  But with my local morning station (that I actually like!), my iPod jack and CD player, it's not necessarily a...er, necessity.  I usually flip back and forth with a push of a dashboard button and when it's not on a talk radio or  a sports station, it's on an 80s channel. Sometimes 90s. Sometimes more recent mixes.  But every now and again I drop back to my love of the old 70s songs: some America singing about a California highway and deserts with their lives underground. Or S&G telling me we're all our own island.  But I haven't done that recently until today.

Today, in the crazy Atlanta rain and traffic and trying to find peace, I had to skip the happy slappy 80s. Angst of the 90s was so not an option either. So I ventured back and realized though I missKodachrome (I'm pretty sure I was the last class in my high school they actually taught us how to develop our own 33mm film), I already knew how to leave my lover in more than 50 ways. Skip the 70s for once, too. I went back one more click on the dial to the 60s.

And there I got engrossed in Turtles. And California Dream[ed]. But that's not the point of this blog. In listening to these songs, I started thinking about what it would be like to own a bar in a college town.  To have lived in that town, established a good life and business there and because of it, have seen many generations of college students come through, stay for a few years and then leave again. What must that be like?

I remember the first time I found some of my favorite "classic groups" back in my formative years in college.  Pink Floyd. Grateful Dead. Old school Nitty Gritty Dirt Band recording "Mr. Bo Jangles" in 1970.  The soundtrack to the movie "1969." Any and every song written in the 60s or on an early 70s Eagles' album. I felt like I was so cool, so unique, not the typical girl who listened to The Smashing Pumpkins or Nirvana or whatever was coming out at the time.  Of course I listened to those too: I just didn't play them on the jukebox.  Because I was the girl who didn't do that.  I thought I was cool, right?

No.  Gosh no! :-)

Because those proprietors had seen it before, time after time. And will. Time after time.

They see students like me come in, come back out (rarely any intention of staying forever. At least not at my school), always being the constant but with their clientele feeling they're unique and special and being the firsts to experience things that they had already seen generations experience before me and my friends.  In my day, "Come on Eileen" was new. Today, it's on the jukebox for the kids there now to feel they're being cool to know it!  Just like I did when I would push a button on the machine to play "Fishing in the Dark" or "December 1963 (Oh What a Night!)".

I wonder how it is for those local establishments sometimes.  To see the same crowd for a couple of years, knowing they're going to move on somewhere else and another crowd will take that place.  Is it sad for them? To see these generations come in, grow up, move on? Or does it make them smile instead, confident in their own selves and their own lives and giggling at us behind closed doors perhaps?

Before today, I never really thought about it: the difference between being a local in a college town or being a short-time member. I went there knowing I would leave. How does it feel for folks who are there, always there, see all that and probably --most likely--are happy they aren't their clientele and actually know who they are?  And know that some of those punks coming in and out in a handful of years know absolutely nothing about Real Life like they did....and we thought we did?

But still treated us well. Dang, we were obnoxious.  Looking back? We really were.

It kind of makes me want to move to a small town, po-dunk college town and open a bar, it does.  And send all the establishments I frequented when I was a silly college girl a Thank You Card for putting up with me and my friends when we were there. :)

Never forget to check under the cart.

I think tonight was the first time ever in my life that I actually got everything from the grocery store I went in to get.

Oh, yeah. Of course I got those other things too.  The "Manager's Special" Agnus pound of beef marked down to $2.45 if I could use it or freeze it before two days from now (it's in the freezer). And that bottle of ALL laundry detergent that was marked down to $3.99 and someone blessedly left a $1 off coupon next to it, expiring today.  I mean, come on. How could I not?

But I went in with a list.  A list I wrote out when I got to work today a half hour before I was supposed to be there. I wrote it, folded it, put it in my back pocket so I would not forget anything.

Yep. Forgot that it was in my back pocket.

But I remembered the toothpaste.  And the butter.  And the tampons (sorry, men. it is what it is).  And I got back home, carried all those horribly flimsy plastic bags from my trunk to my home no less than three trips (the only downfall of living "upstairs") and emptied them, actually looking for The Thing I forgot.

I always forget something.

But I didn't today.

Hmmm.

The other thing that occurred to me as I was taking those tiny messed up little stairs from my car to my apartment was: wow. I have food.

Silly, right?

But it actually occurred to me: Wow. I actually had the ability to go out and get food today.  And I had a vehicle that enabled me to do it.  And a home of my own I could bring it all into even!  Woah. With appliances and electricity that makes it all possible. And I was happy about all those "little" things.

I don't think it's wrong that we get jealous now and again about others we know.  They might have privileges or job benefits or a better car or prettier shoes or a more supportive family or lots of money in their savings accounts.  I think it's okay to feel a twinge of jealousy about something you don't have.

But only if you recognize what you DO have.

Do I have matching furniture? No.  But I have comfortable pieces a friend gifted me with.  Do I own my home? Nope.  But I love coming home to where I live every day and it's a place that's warm, comfortable and mine.  Do I drive a fancy car? Heck no. But it's reliable, affordable (American made yo!) and enables me to go to my job, to visit my friends, and most of all? Gives me an escape if I need it.  I can nap in it during my lunch hour (and I have!), I can loan it to a friend (absolutely I have!) and get me from Point A to B when a loved one needs me.

Can I go on fancy vacations? Nope. But can I go on memorable ones? Yep.  Can I afford fancy restaurant outings on the weekends? Nope.  But do I have clean water and healthy food and can mix up something for friends to eat or drink who can come by? Yes. Am I wearing the latest fashions? Heck no. Because that's not important anymore. Oh, it was back in the day (and another story for another day).  But now I think my friends are just happy I'm clothed, no matter what I'm in. ;-)

So when I went to the store today; the first time I ever went and didn't forget one thing I "needed" on that list in my back pocket?  I'm kinda actually thinking right now I didn't remember -- or forget -- because there is nothing more I need right now that isn't already here.

And that's a verra, verra fine feeling indeed.  :-)

The Christmas Card Letter

One of my favorite things about this season is sending and receiving Christmas cards.  Yes, I love the emailed ones just as much as the traditional: it still means someone took the time to think of me and even more time to make it happen.  But there's something about going to your mailbox and not finding just bills or doctor reminders or flyers for the newest restaurant in town.  There's something about finding a Christmas card.

I especially love when folks put in that sum-up-the-year letter that tells me all about what has occurred over the past year of their lives.  Yes, today we all have the luxury of keeping in touch daily with emails, text messages and countless social media sites, but it's so easy to miss things that happen in our friends' and loved ones' lives. That's why I love these letters so much.  It's such a lovely way to say to others: hey, I care about you.  I care about you so much that I want to let you into what's been going on with me this past year so you can share a part of my life even when you couldn't be here every day.  I find it so charming and so special for that, but also because it shows me that the people who do it actually reflect on their lives, appreciate what the year has brought to them and are probably already looking forward to the new year and the things they can include in next year's letter.  What optimism! What spirit and joy!  I really, really love that.

So for as much as I love them, I often wonder why I have never done one myself.  I DO send cards, and sometimes I'll even add a special note instead of just my name.  But why haven't I done the letter?  Probably because if I did?  It would look something like this....

Dear Friends and Family,

Hello! It's been another year here in the Fox household (that'd be me and my plants -- but one I've kept alive for 18 years now, so that's something!) and, wow, was it wonderful.

I finally managed to join a gym this year after a few years' hiatus in an effort to make sure I starting taking care of myself again.  That was last January of course and I'm happy to report that I've gone at least four or five times since.

The bad, hacked-up layer in my hair compliments of a free haircut coupon at Great Clips two years ago finally grew out enough that I could get a decent haircut again this year.  Cost Cutters proved much more fortunate this time. (Even splurged and went without a coupon! Go me!)

I managed to change the oil in my car every 5000 miles as recommended by the factory requirements.  And by changing the oil, I mean taking it in and sitting patiently in the waiting room while someone did it for me.  Oh, come on: you know you always push that limit yourselves and the patient part is really an achievement.

I seriously, seriously contemplated using my passport.

I made it a goal to eat more fresh meats and vegetables this year instead of pre-packaged frozen meals, again in an effort to better my health. I'm happy to report that most months I managed to consume them too before they all spoiled.  The one month (only one!) they did (early last summer; it was hot and my electricity got cut off) and I ate them anyway, I didn't even get sick.  I think that was the turning point in my year. Things were looking up!

I never once unexpectedly ran out of toilet paper and had to use coffee filters in a pinch.  (If you remember my letter from 2004, you know what I'm talking about.)  Of course, it's because I can just take it from work now*...but what a lovely extra perk I have at a job that I've managed to hold down for more than three months for a change.

And I even wore matching socks a couple of times! 

So with this year coming to a close and all these accomplishments of which to be proud, I can't wait to see what 2013 might have to offer next.  Dare I say it might even be the year that I stay up past 11pm to watch the New Year actually come in?  Guess you'll have to wait until next year's letter to find out!

Holiday blessings to you and yours!

Stacy

:-)  


[Now, before anyone really get silly on me, of course this is all in jest. I made up all of the above -- except that haircut layer; that seriously was a doosie! -- and am actually really happy about 2012.  Maybe if I get inspired, I'll do a part 2: the Real Letter I would send if I had half the motivation and drive that my friends do who send these. :-)  In the meantime? Hope you all had an amazing year and realize even the smallest bits of happiness that came into your life this year are worth celebrating.]

*I don't condone theft.

Morning people suck. BUT.

I understand that most people are not morning people.

Surprise! I'm not really either.

It takes a lot to be friendly to folks I see before, oh, 10am or so.

But I still say "good morning" to people with a little smile (even if I'm thinking to myself: don't talk to me until 10, at least)  when I see them at work or at the gas station or in the grocery or at the tollbooth at 7am.

And then just go about my own self again.

Is it really that hard to do that for a fellow human being even if you're not really feeling it?

Is it wrong to fake it?

I don't think so.

Come on, people. Fake it if you have to.

Smile when you don't want to.

Greet someone kindly.

Especially if they do first.

Because even if you're grumpy or half-asleep or have your mind on other things?  That ONE SECOND in time that it would take you to say hello or good morning or have a nice day?  With a little smile or even?  A few hours later you would have done it in earnest.

You know you would.
 
And maybe I'm a little jaded here. Because I DO say "good morning!" to my colleagues or neighbors or friends and sometimes they just grunt back at me. And they don't respond because they're not morning people.  I get that.

But.

How hard is it, really?

If I were President...

IF I WERE PRESIDENT...



1. All wine would come with screw-off caps.

2. Or in a box.

3. The day after election day would be a national holiday so we could all celebrate or mourn properly.

4. All cars would come with a switch that automatically turns your blinker off if you drive completely straight forward for more than a mile.

5. The art of cursive handwriting would still be taught.

6. And each letter learned would be awarded in chocolate.  Or an orange.

7. You'd be able to go to the grocery store and buy eggs in singles, much like you could apples or tomatoes or "choose your own 6-pack".

8. The #2 pencil would be abolished.

9. Refillable pencils as well, for that matter.

10. Shoot, ALL pencils.

11. Except colored ones. They can stay.

12. Warm climates would have imported snow once a year for a month so folks there could experience the joy of building a snowman.

13. Cold climates are OK on their own. Global warming and all.

14. We'd get stickers for everything! Not only "I voted", but "I got groceries today!" or "I picked up the dry cleaning!" or even "I had a good poo!"

15. Hurricanes, earthquakes and tornadoes would be outlawed.  They'd be slapped with a fine if they showed up.

16. People who wake you up by vacuuming before 8am will be mandated to come do your place as well.

17. Chocolate (or oranges) will be distributed with every paycheck.

18. No one would mess with Texas.

19. Everyone would mess with France.

20. And vouchers would be handed out for anyone who didn't have a sense of humor so they could possibly understand mine in a post like this.

Happy Election Day, my friends! No matter what the results tomorrow, may we all remember that we're all in this together and 11/7/12 is a Coming Back Together to support the amazing country where we live. God bless!