It's hard to get used to how FRICKING CLEAN this house is, in anticipation of the people traipsing through to look at everything. I walk into a room and go, "Oh! Crap, it's clean in here." My Uncle Leo used to say about people: "They're so clean" as if that were a bad trait. I had these two old lady great aunts who lived together in a tiny cute house, and in retrospect it was my dream house. They had all the old lady things I like. I even think they had an O'Keefe and Merrit stove.
Marvin and I had one in California, and had to leave it behind. It's hard to schlep a stove. I like how they show a 1930s stove with 1960s graphics behind it.
The point is, my Uncle Leo and I were inexplicably at my great aunts' old lady house one day--I can just see us in their kitchen with their cute embroidered hand towels--and my uncle mouthed to me, "Everything's so clean" the way you'd mouth, "They're crazy" or "There's a gun on the table."
Uncle Leo. Never a neatnik.
They had a schedule, my great aunts did, where they'd do laundry on Monday, bake on Tuesday, or whatever. My schedule is Oh dear Lord, someone is coming. I have to get the eight pounds of dog fur out from under the bed.
Anyway. I had said to Ned, "On Monday, I don't have my student, and I get to just go home and do absolutely nothing. I have no engagements or plans. I can just go home and relax for the first time in weeks." Someone at work asked me if I was going to the workouts in the park, and I said, "Nope. For the first time in ages, I'm going home to do nothing."
I'M GOING DOWN TO LIVERPOOL TO DO NOTHING ALL THE DAYS OF MY LIFE! I love that song.
I'd like to take this moment to once again do my Susanna Hoffs impression.
Oh my GOD, my point is, I did not remotely get my nothing evening. Which is a shame, because I can take a nothing day and suddenly make it all seem worthwhile. Two more couples came by to see the place last night, so there went my relaxing. The first people were absolutely delightful and I loved them. They were young but both had gainful employment, and the man in the couple said, "Would you be our landlady?" and when I said yes he said, "Oh, that's great. You're already wonderful." Which of course I am. And so clean.
The other duo told me they couldn't come till after the World Cup was done and would that be okay. They got here at about 8:30, and I had the feeling they'd be foreign, because World Cup, and also they both had wonky names. If they move in, I won't even need to make up names for them. Anyway, the man was a tall man of color with dreads, from Colombia. He has a PhD in mechanical engineering and works at a university, so you can imagine how much we had in common. Oh, did we talk mechanicals and engineering. Wooo! But he was so, so nice and also very cute, which is what matters.
His girlfriend is from Germany and she just got here. I have no idea why every German in Greensboro is coming to my house. They met in college and she finally got a green card. She was very nice, too, but she scared the crap out of me. She looked around and asked intelligent questions, and noted imperfections in the house and asked if they'd be fixed before they moved in (....) and generally was one of those brisk, efficient people who make me sweaty.
While she went from room to room taking pictures and making notes (swear), her boyfriend and I had some water in the kitchen and talked engineering. I gave him some tips. He said, "My girlfriend is so efficient. I'm just already emotionally attached to the house, but she has to be logical about it." I told him about how I walked into my new house with Ned and said, "Okay, I love this house and want to spend 80 years here" and he was all is there central air? How's the water pressure? Does the basement leak? I guess you need a regular person and then the person with 80 emotions going.
The point is, they emailed me later and said they really could see themselves living here and want a few days to think it over. In the meantime, someone else is coming tonight and I will never be able to shed dog hair again. Jesus.
Help me think of good Colombian and German names for them, should they move in. Christopher Columbus and Helga. Good. Glad we had this talk.
After I show the house again tonight, and I just saw myself lifting my house up like they do when they show cats, I am going with Ned to see How to Marry a Millionaire at the old theater we love, and I hope to get some tips on how to do just that. I wish there were a movie called How to Make Ned a Millionaire.
Have you ever seen them show cats and hold them up all terribly? Hang on. I can't find a cat right now, believe it or not, but a Lu is right here. I'll demonstrate.
That was a terrible demonstration, because today she seemed to weigh 11 hundred pounds. Plus, her leg looks creepily human right there. Oh, forget it.
June, clean.