Sunday, October 7, 2012

The art of defenestration ...


On our first full day of vacation I wake to the foreign smell of ... clean? As far as I can tell, Chuck woke at 6 a.m. and got down on his hand and knees and performed detail work on the countertops and kitchen floor. This is unsettling. I need coffee, but I don't want to spoil his work by bringing this nasty nest of grease hair into the room. I'm used to a kitchen with garlic skins littering the floor, a thin turf of broccoli  and a pile of empty salsa jars and empty caper jars sitting on the counter in preparation for some kind of 2012 supply hoarding that we never quite get around to.

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Fun fact: As of this vacation, Chuck's schedule has changed. He no longer works in the middle of the night and won't again in the immediate future. This means that now I have a place to set my cold feet in bed and if I think the dishwasher sounds like it is muttering Satanic incantations, I can pass him the baseball bat and flashlight. It also means that I no longer get to slowly rotate my body in the bed like the hands of a clock.

***

Then he makes us breakfast. Hard-boiled eggs, done to his signature perfection, English muffins, soy bacon for me. He makes the rookie error of using cooking spray, rather than olive oil, in the pan.

"It's okay," I tell him. "You'll use oil and get it right tomorrow."

***

We've been in the process of turning one of the upstairs bedrooms into a super-cool hideaway from the cats. It's in the only room with a door that shuts and latches. The walls are bright green. We have a lava lamp, but it was shaken in transit so it's muddy and no fun. We bought our friend SeaDawg's futon, I got a geometric lamp with an orange shade. This is where the records are. It's really getting great in there. We call it The Atomic Lounge.

We buy a cover for the futon at a store that doubles as a yoga and meditation center. The kind of place that sells skirts made out of recycled newspapers and grocery bags.

***

Daytime movies are the best. They're such a luxury. We're behind two people buying senior matinee tickets to "Robot & Frank," but we go to "Sleepwalk with Me," which is unbelievably entertaining. A guy who refuses to commit to anything finally goes balls deep into his comedy career. Meanwhile, his girlfriend of eight years like really wants to get married. It's very funny.

Chuck gets a beer, because he's never had the opportunity to drink one in a movie theater for various reasons. I start to get a beer, but I'm distracted by a sleek and sexy bottle of a Hibiscus, Lime and Clove-flavored drink.



If this was Blah Blah Beverage Week, I'd be going apeshit about this right now. Instead I'll just tell you that I stopped at Whole Foods on the way home and picked up a 4-pack the second the movie ended.

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I take a nap in The Atomic Lounge with my Kindle open to A.M. Homes' "May We Be Forgiven" on my stomach. This book. I've really gone through the gamut of feelings toward it. I'm now onto "cautiously interested."

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Dinner is roasted beets in a wasabi vinaigrette and quinoa mixed with carrots, greens and garlic, which I burn a little. This is called "Starving for Dinner." Later, while watching "Parking Wars" we'll supplement with lime chips and cheese dip.

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We watch a scary movie called "The Ward." It ends up being not exactly terrible and for the second time today a character goes flying through the glass of a window. I just learned recently that the act of throwing someone or thing through a window is called defenestration. Now that I've learned that, I keep seeing it.

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"Parking Wars," on A&E, follows parking cops as they ticket illegally parked cars. As a person who is constantly aware of parking cops, this show is a little unsettling.



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