Friday, September 11, 2009

Digging Out

Oy. Freaking. Veh.

That pretty much sums up my house right now. There isn't a word for what it looks like at the moment. "Messy" is such an amateur adjective, the disaster currently surrounding me wouldn't let it carry its golf clubs.

We've gone beyond "cluttered". Even "filthy" packed its bags and quit without giving notice.

You know those pictures on the news of those poor communities in Central America that were constructed entirely of hardened mud so when the big earthquake hit, the houses sort of collapsed in a dusty heap, like maybe they were all playing the architectural equivalent of 'Ring Around the Rosy'?

My house envies those houses. My house wants to be those houses when it grows up.

I thought about posting some pictures, you know, to help you all feel better about the untidy mess-lets you may be facing today.

But I realized that, were I to do so, it would have the same impact on our relationship that confessing an attraction to farm animals or admitting to eating sheep dip for breakfast would have.

You'd start out all supportive, assuring me that 'we all have our little quirks'. But then you'd see the truth, and suddenly your eyes would widen, your nose would wrinkle, and you'd be frantically groping for the door handle as you cried, "What kind of MONSTER are you??"

Yeah. Like I haven't heard that before.

I've been gone for nearly a week, visiting family and dropping off my daughter at BYU-Ihatemyroommates. Since I left Rexburg I've received no fewer than two-point-eight million texts from Vanessa, all variations on a theme of "Where did I pack that cyanide capsule?"

I didn't even realize there was such a thing as a "throwing yourself under a bus" emoticon.

The things you learn when your kids go to college.

Of course, as I told you here, we didn't just pack up two kids and ship them off to assorted Institutions of Higher Anxiety. We also switched rooms with the leftover offspring.

Or at least that is the current plan. Right now, the rooms are semi-empty, and everything our kids ever owned or thought about owning or will own in the future but managed to loop back on the space-time continuum just for this special occasion is either in the upstairs hallway or our bedroom.

Lord have mercy if I should happen to need a bathroom break during the night. Indiana Jones had an easier time reaching that Cave o' Grails than I have reaching my water closet.

So, naturally, I'm blogging about it instead of, you know, cleaning. I have long held that housework was for the unimaginative, a philosophy which has served me well until this week.

But, sadly, even this imaginative soul has had to admit defeat. When the CDC, Child Services, and Homeland Security are all pounding on your door with fists full of complaints and warrants to 'give you a good smacking,' it's time to stop blogging and start digging.

So no more posts from yours truly until I can make it through my bedroom without swinging over the rubble on a trapeze.

Now, if you really wanted to hear from me sooner, you might come over with your backhoe and Hazmat suit.

At the very least, my true friends will start praying for that earthquake.

28 comments:

Kristina P. said...

This is awesome. I am totally going to submit your name for Hoarders on TLC. It's like What Not to Wear, for crazy, cluttery people. You will love it!!

P.S. I sent you two emails yesterday, but no response! Is your email working? Because how could you not respond to *this.* I even refrained from smushing your face with a muffin!!

The Garden of Egan said...

Hey DaNae..........good luck on the muckout......I love ya, but not enough to come to the outter depths of Hades to clean out for ya. I don't do well in the heat, as Vanessa will soon be able to testify of as there is NO heat in Rexburg.
Hope you get through it all ok.

Shantel said...

I like you alot more knowing your sheep dip fettish and affinity for farm animals. I know you did not actually say that - but you know, if the "living in a barn" fits....
he,he.. good luck.

Stacy said...

Just remember, whatever you do, don't scrub the ring out of the toilet bowl. Seriously. Because then the water in your toilet will overflow because it doesn't know where to stop.

Karen said...

Your house sounds about like my bedroom. I have little paths to the closet and the bathroom right now because I am in the process of rearranging everything, but I keep getting bored and going back to the blogoverse. Oops!

Mallory said...

"...and everything our kids ever owned or thought about owning or will own in the future but managed to loop back on the space-time continuum just for this special occasion is either in the upstairs hallway or our bedroom."

This made me laugh. Seriously. You are one funny gal!

Migillicutty said...

hee hee, so there are grown-up out there who are messy, too. That makes me feel better. :)


See ya in that loop in the time-space continuum!

The Crash Test Dummy said...

hee hee hee hee I'm so glad I don't live by you so I don't have to feel obligated to help. It's fun to live far away when people are in need (believe me, I know) because then you can say "I so wish I was there. I would totally put my gloves on and put up my dukes for you" and it counts.

Wish I was there. he he he

Hey, you are the next Erma Bombeck girlfriend. When you finish cleaning your house, put up your dukes and get your bootie published!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I would so help you do that too. If I was there.

Loretta Valenta said...

Love your blog and am sorry that you are grounded until your room is clean. I think you should do some before and after pics!

Chief said...

PULEEEEZE! it can't be as bad as my corn on the cob carcass

Sarah said...

I completely agree.... housework is for the unimaginative!

The Crash Test Dummy said...

Okay, I can't help you clean your house from a distance (thank goodness) but I can help you get published. And I'm going to do just that. You silly silly goose. It won't take much. Mark my words.

AS Amber said...

Wait. I'm not creative and my house is messy. That pretty much sucks for me.

Crash: I pray you're not toying with my dear sister. That would be too, too, too AWESOME!!!!

brudcrew said...

How can I begin to respond to this level of humor in my brain-dead, basement dwelling existence, other than to say, thank you for the laugh. Laughter is sorely needed around here. Six people packed into less than 1000 sq feet with no where to go has created quite the disaster, believe me!

Kazzy said...

I think I told you last time that I commented that I read your posts aloud to my husband, who is an English prof, and he laughs along with me.

I wish you the best of luck with your great clean out. Where do you live? I will come help if it gets you blogging faster.

Homer and Queen said...

I love Hoarders!!! Isn't it creepy that we love to watch that show? Good luck!

Lynne's Somewhat Invented Life said...

I'm sorry but I had to read this post to my husband. I say I'm sorry in case you didn't want a man to know you needed help but he laughed and laughed--really, this is a good sign--he's not easily amused. He's certainly not amused that we had to eat on the lawn swings tonight because the table is filled with rubble. Actual rubble. I refuse to put it a way so it must not be good stuff.

Please continue to blog or I will have to eat some of that sheep dip. You and other funny bloggers are the only thing keeping me from running into a tree chipper. And one more reason. I can't die and have the Relief Society come into the house. No one would come to my funeral.

How I wish there were photos. Can't you just send them to me privately? It would be so comforting. But, I could probably see your mess and raise you one.

myimaginaryblog said...

When I was in high school my choir went on tour to Rexburg (I know, I know, sexiest/coolest destination EVAR,) and we got lodged for a night with tenants of then-Ricks' student housing, and I was appalled at the level of intensity and energy those coeds had invested in their ongoing feud. Other than the last part of the Book of Mormon, I've never seen the like before or since (and I'm from a family with 9 kids,) other than when I had to room with a couple of particularly bratty sister missionaries at the Provo MTC--but even they couldn't quite top those Rexburg gals for seeming to have absolutely nothing better to do than to think about how much they hated someone else and how to get revenge.

Good luck with your hazmat site, er, household. (I could send you up-close photos of my filthy carpets and couch and it might make you feel a little better.) We'll all be watching for you to re-emerge victorious.

Brooke said...

I figure you've got a couple options:

1. Go pick up a foreign exchange student to live with you and convince her that all the COOL American teenagers spend their free time cleaning the house.

2. Call in your Visiting Teachers. (But if you do, secretly video tape their reactions when they walk in and see the extent of the service that will be required of them. HA! That could win you big bucks on AFV.)

3. Find one of those "Will Work For Food" guys underneath the highway overpass. I had a boyfriend who did this once when he had to clean out his college apartment at the end of the semester. The guy totally cleaned his apt, then was able to take all the left-over food in the kitchen. Of course, it was his roommates food. . . :-)

Amber Lynae said...

Ok this was funny. Not the fact that it may be easier to just demolish and rebuild, but they way you express yourself. It is just priceless.

I'm praying. I think the missionaries may be looking for a good service project. Should I send them your way?

Audrey said...

You are truly one gifted writer. I am so glad that I found you through your guest post on Lara's blog because your posts never cease to make me laugh and lighten my day!

I suppose I should introduce myself. I am Audrey, former across the street neighbor to Lara, until she moved across country and I moved across town...

Melanie J said...

1. Kazzy's husband is a very GOOD English professor. I know because I had him.

2. Like Crash, I'm so glad I can sympathize from a distance and act like I would help if I lived near you. (I wouldn't.) (Okay, I would, but I would complain a lot.)

M-Cat said...

I'm so with you honey! I am begging Splenda to burn it down and just start over......

Steph @ Diapers and Divinity said...

I'm glad you're not posting the pictures, because I WANT to still be your friend. :)

And for the record, I would come clean it out for you, if you came here and babysat my kids for the month it would take me to do it.

Jessica said...

Just ignore it and the maid will clean it up later, that is what my family believes half the time.

Start slow, wear gloves, take lots of breaks. You can do it, then get back to blogging. ASAP.

Lara said...

Sigh.

I know the feeling.

Good luck with it. You can always call Merry Maids or something. :)

Regan said...

I'm with you. When I leave the kids at home alone (which in and of itself is a crap-shoot) I always leave with the sidenote, "If you have to call 911 and they come in to our home you will all be sent to foster care and I will be sent up the river." Yep. I'm housekeepingly challenged so don't just drop by or I'll have to come greet you in the driveway, and "NO, you can't use our bathroom. It doesn't work right now!"

L.T. Elliot said...

I just came from my hazmat environment. I finally got the all-clear and have resettled for what, I am sure will be, a temporary condition. Best of luck with yours.