Thursday, May 04, 2006
Mister Clean
Jerry: "Let me ask you this. When she comes over, you cleaning up a lot?"
George: "Yeah."
Jerry: "Just straightening up, or are you cleaning?"
George: "Cleaning."
Jerry: "You do the tub?"
George: "Yeah."
Jerry: "On your knees, Ajax, scrubbing, the whole deal?
George: "Yeah."
Jerry: "OK. I think you're in love."
George: "Tub is love?"
Jerry: "Tub is love. So there you are. You've got a nice girl and a clean apartment."


Sometimes I wonder if I'd ever clean if I didn't have company. Of course, I would. But knowing someone is coming over is the kick I need to get started. And probably assures that cleaning happens more often. Which is a good thing.

The amount and depth of cleaning is directly related to the type of company. Mom, dad, or sister, I make sure there is no underwear lying in plain sight, and close the shower curtain. For extended family, such as aunts, uncles, and cousins, I usually vacuum, use the feather duster downstairs, and close the shower curtain.

For friends, it all depends on how long they are going to be there and the likelihood they will need to go upstairs. It can range from just picking up a few things downstairs to a fairly thorough cleaning. And close the shower curtain.

But the ultimate clean, the most I ever clean, is when I'm having a girl over. It's major I'm talking vacuuming, sweeping, moppping. Sink, stove, kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, living room. Endust, 409, Comet, Pine Sol, and on and on. Until eventually I find myself on my knees in the tub, wearing an old t-shirt and yellow latex gloves, singing Bryan Adams and Richard Marx love songs, high on Tilex fumes. Or at least that's how it was last night.

George: "But it's a great building. It's two bedrooms!"
Jerry: "Two bedrooms? Why do I need two bedrooms? I got enough trouble maintaining activity in one."


Also on the agenda for the coming weekend is reorganizing my spare bedroom. Maybe. I'd like to convert it into an office. Right now it contains an ironing board, small desk, bookshelf, and assorted other items. Along with several boxes that have yet to be unpacked from the move. Most of which I probably don't need. I mean, if I haven't needed them in seven-plus months.

How did I accumulate so much stuff? I remember when I moved out of my parents house, I was begging for stuff to put in my first apartment. Cruising the streets hoping someone had thrown out an old couch. My living room furniture consisted of one couch and a red bean bag. My aunt had given me the couch. It had a pastel floral pattern and a couple of tears in the cushions.

I moved out in my early twenties. A lot of my friends commuted to college, as did I. And almost all of us moved out within several months of each other. Almost. It started when Little Joe's mom and step-dad came home from a camping trip and found alcohol in the house.

He apparently used to have these parties when they were gone. I really wouldn't know. They were sort of Nintendo-playing-drinking parties. Where you'd stay up all night and then go to school the next morning at 8 AM. I heard.

Anyway, he never had anymore of those parties after that. Just immediately started looking for a place to live. He never said, but I always assumed he was strongly encouraged to do so.

This was supposed a post about cleaning. Not sure how I got off on moving out. Although something Pia wrote yesterday reminded me of something I've always believed. That it's good to move out and be on your own, at least for six months or a year. Rather than go straight from your parents house to a spouse. Think you're missing a part of life if you don't.

It's one of those little rules or beliefs you have about life. Not really sure where they come from or maybe even what you base it on. I call mine Bone logic. Never got a chance to talk about them or share them. Until blogging came along.

I'm not sure how to end this post. I just keep smelling my hands every few minutes a la Mary Catherine Gallagher. To see if they smell like Comet.

I also do gymnastics. Superstah!

"Tell me what we got. Tell me it's a lot. Tell me it's the real thing..."
14 Comments:
Anonymous InterstellarLass said...
I lived by myself for a year. Then I got a roommate. Then I met my ex. Then the rest is history. I often wonder what would have happened if I stayed in my apartment by myself. Not moved, not met my ex. I loved living by myself. It was awesome. So quiet. No one to nag me. I could walk around in my underwear. I could eat on the couch. I didn't have anyone to pick up after except me! I won't ever have that again. Not that it's a bad thing. But I think I would have liked more alone time back when.

Anonymous Grooviechick said...
EWW!!!!! A mental picture of Bone on his hands and knees in the tub, in just a tshirt and yellow latex gloves, covered in comet and scrubbing bubbles. *LOL*

Anonymous Surrender Dorothy said...
I lived on my own just after high school. My mom went on this month long vacation with my younger brothers and sister, and didn't invite me. I got to stay home and guard the house. Oh, and pay the bills. I was ready to go to college 1000 miles away. I had 5 roommates my first year. Second year only 4, then I got married. I did the single mom thing for a few years before BH. The time sans partner definitely helps you decide what you do and don't want in a partner. Presence is not nearly enough.

Is a Saturday date asked or implied? Do you have Kotex in your house? Must be love.

and yes, First class lanes all the way!!!

Anonymous pia said...
A spare bedroom. If you hadn't linked to me I would probably virtually kill you

Wait didn't I say it was mandatory to attend all night parties in college

Great visual of you cleaning; glad to know who rates what.

My father would bring white gloves, so they got the full treatment.

Women do a lot with soft pink lights, candles and flowers. I could make anyones house look company ready in 20 minutes given the above. Make that almost anybody.

Anonymous carmen said...
So what about the girl? Good date? Bad date? Inquiring minds want to know, you left us hangin'. Clean is good in a man. Believe me. Your work will be noticed and cataloged for a later date.

Thanks for stopping by the blog. Yeah, get a lot of clicks on Thursdays. Your comment about skiping the "hate hot girls" part made me laugh out loud. I get that a man would LOVE to watch the girls in full out makeup pretent to work out - Flex their muscles a little more and suck in their gut. I just wonder how their pores manage to not implode with all that makeup on. But then they go yak in the locker room since they don't actually work out, so there's justice. :) There was a survey on the Today show that said most guys don't like all that gunk. True or not?

I'm glad Dorothy sent me over last week. I really enjoy reading your entries. It's nice that a man is so well-spoken (written). It's a big change from what I'm used to. Good thing Alabama never plays UVA in football though, or we'd have issues. ;)

Blogger Renee said...
hummm...that must explain DH. When I met him he had a nice clean appartment...but seemed to forget how to clean when we got married. And now if I let it go too far he pulls out way too much cleaning supplies and makes a HUGE production out of it (making it obivious that I let it go too far and that he expects huge compensation for doing my job.) oops sorry for the rant.

So yeah, we want details about this date that rates cleaning of the appartment. :D

Jerry was always clean...reminds me of the toothbrush in the toilet show. I like that actress before she got on Sex and the City much better.

Blogger Bone said...
Lass: It does have its advantages. I've definitely had my share of alone time :)

Groovie: I had on pants! Or underwear at least. I forget. I was high.

Dorothy: I agree. You need time to get to know yourself.

And no Kotex!!!

Pia: Unfortunately I don't have any soft pink lights. Or flowers. I do have a few candles though :)

Carmen: Yeah, I think that's true. I've heard guys say "She's got on too much makeup" more often than I've heard "She doesn't have enough." Although I have heard both. Actually, the latter is usually, "She needs to wear some makeup."

Renee: That sounds about right. "Well, I can write my name in the dust, it's time to clean."

Anonymous carnealian said...
I am right there with ya. I'd clean but am more ambitious about it when company is coming over. However, the feather duster thing...you're scaring me! Latex gloves, you are scaring me more.

I have company coming this weekend as well. I've been cleaning all night.

I guess I'll take off the French Maid's uniform and just call it a night.

Blogger The Big Man said...
Again, Sir Bone of Bama, our paralleling lives is almost on an eerie level.

A friend came by last night, and I had to make sure the house was spotless before she came over. I spent Tuesday and part of Wednesday cleaning up. And yes, closing of the shower to other's prying eyes is a must.

Also, I spent a chuck of this past weekend reorganizing one of my spare bedrooms. It was a "catch-all" and very cluttered. Now it's wide open, with everything moved against the walls.

Scary strange, or maybe it's just that most single guys go through these times and events.

Blogger Tenacious T said...
Funny - I have a guest coming this weekend, and was up to midnight scrubbing the shower and doing things I haven't had (made) time to do in a while.
I must say when I live by myself, rather than with a roommate, I am much more obsessed about everything being "just so," to the point of making my guests uncomfortable, by continuing to keep it that way when they arrive, sweeping up behind them, etc. :) (And THAT was mom and dad!). With roommate - I figure it is not all my responsabilty anyway and am much more lax about it.

Anonymous Lauren said...
Is that or is that not a Bo Bice (a la American Idol) lyric at the end of your post? I think it is, and I salute you for it.

I completely agree about the moving out thing. I lived with a roommate for around 6 or 7 months after college. Then she moved out and my now-ex moved in. And ya know what? Those 6 or 7 months (post-parents and pre-ex) were the happiest I've had in recent years.

And cleaning is a good, healthy habit. Keep it up.

Blogger Bone said...
Carnealian: Uh, I'm not sure, but I don't think the French Maid outfit is really intended for cleaning ;-)

Big Man: Yes, seems like my spare bedroom is the room where I put much of what I pick up in the other rooms.

Sir Bone of Bama... I like that.

Tenacious T: Wow. Seems like everybody is expecting guests. I'm not too bad about picking up right behind someone. But I do think it makes sense for people to take off their shoes when they enter.

Lauren: Yes, that's a Bo Bice lyric. Good call. I like that song. I can't help it.

Blogger Sue Ellen Mischke said...
Your turbo-cleaning session is my standard cleaning session. I hate to clean because I sweat and it takes forever (and I only have a small two bedroom apt), but I do it every week because I can't stand a messy home.

I lived by myself after the divorce. I thought I'd hate it, but I totally loved it. I loved it mostly because it was always clean. And if it wasn't clean, it was my fault. You could see your reflection in my granite countertops and eat dinner off the bathroom floor. Now that I live with a gay man, it's pretty much like that all the time still. But I do miss living on my own.

Blogger Bone said...
Sue Ellen: What about your hair? Is it clean? Could you serve dinner on it? ;-)

Post a Comment