Sunday, September 13, 2009

The Unavoidable Pun

So I woke up this morning feeling ambitious -
Okay, that's a lie. I didn't feel the least bit ambitious.
However, I'd made up my mind that I was going to get a lot of shit done, so, despite my lack of ambition, I set about getting said shit done pretty early on.
I started off by finishing up mowing the side yard. My lawn was so overgrown that I kept using up the charge in my mower's battery just trying to cut the grass in the front and side yesterday afternoon - under conditions of less unrestrained growth the battery usually lasts long enough to mow the entire yard, with electricity to spare - and eventually ran out of daylight before I could get it charged enough to finish the remaining patch of grass.
So, with the mower fully-charged this morning, I finished up the side yard, put the laundry going, and set about mowing the backyard, which was even more overgrown than the front and side, and quickly burned up a full night's charge.
Leaving the mower charging, I got to work on the primary task of the day: cleaning the house.
I started out in the master bathroom and made my way outward from there, dusting and vacuuming the entire upstairs, clearing out a lot of junk I don't need any more, and getting at least a start on organizing my comics (more on that in a bit).
This took forever, in part because I had to stop to finish mowing the lawn, fold and put away the laundry, and try to squeeze in some kind of lunch.
Eventually I made my way downstairs - after even vacuuming the stairs - and finally making my way to the kitchen. I finally got around to taking down the light fixture and cleaning it out, finally removing the corpse of the dead cricket that had probably been there since before I even moved into the house.
It had been my intention to break out the steam cleaner on the carpet downstairs, but by the time I was ready for that - and here I must pause to apologize, but the pun is truly unavoidable - I had run out of steam.
Still, I'd given the place a good, thorough cleaming. I didn't wash the windows, but I did open them all up to let in some fresh air to help with the overall feeling of cleanness.
Originally I'd planned to also do some additional yard work beyond the mowing, but I had realized last night that I'd probably be biting off more than I could chew, so that work, like the carpet cleaning, will be a project for another time.
Even though the house is mostly clean - with the exceptions of the windows and the un-steamed carpet - I've come to realize that, for me at least, it's impossible to get everything perfectly clean. And it's not like I did a half-assed job, or that I don't know what I'm doing - I used to clean for a living, after all - it's just that the being at least slightly dirty seems to be the natural state of things. No matter what you do, there will always be dust, for example. I have to admit that the thought that most of the dust in the house is skin kind of grosses me out, though not as much as the thought that not all of it is my skin.
And in the kitchen I swept the floor, vacuumed it, swept it again, and mopped it, and yet as I walk across it barefoot there are still random, unidentifiable hard bits of crud digging into my soles.
So why did I bother with this again? Oh, right, to impress Scott, just because when he was last here I commented on my shame about what a mess this place was and he told me that I didn't have to impress him. Well, you'd better be impressed now, dammit, whether you need to be or not.
Speaking of Scott, a while back, looking at the disorganized piles of comics threatening to fill up the room I call the library, he'd suggested that I get a bunch of bags and boards so that he and I could pass the time on Riff Trax nights bagging and boarding the comics rather than stuffing our faces with snacks.
(I submit that we're talented enough to do both)
So, taking the bags and boards I had on hand, we set to the task last Wednesday. Yesterday when I stopped at the comic shop I bought a few hundred more bags and boards - which is not nearly enough - and I did some bagging and boarding yesterday and today.
In any case, while were bagging and boarding on Wednesday I commented on how it was only one part of what needs to be done, as they still need to be organized, archived, and entered into my database.
While I appreciate Scott's efforts in helping me with the task, there's a question that naturally arises: Can't someone else do it?
I mean, seriously, I just want to read comics and then keep them afterwards, I don't want to organize, index, and archive them.
I'm sure I could probably hire someone to do it, but I don't want to spend money, either.
I suggested to Scott that maybe I should use OK Cupid to try to find someone who will organize my comics for me rather than trying to find a date.
I should change my self-summary to say "You don't have to be my girlfriend, I just want you to organize my comics for me."
I mean, it's win-win; I get someone to organize and archive my comics, and the woman gets a reason to get out of her house for a while. She wouldn't even have to feign interest in me in order to spare my feelings, or have to worry about being seen in public with me.
Honestly, I'd probably have better luck with finding someone to do that than finding someone to be my girlfriend with the way OK Cupid's been "working" for me.
For as much as I'm accused of being too picky, the fact of the matter is that age - and desperation - has broadened the range of what I consider physically attractive by a wide margin, and even when I was younger the range was already pretty broad.
And yet despite that the number of "matches" OK Cupid finds for me still manage to fall outside that range. It's kind of uncanny.
The weirdest thing is that the photos of most of the matches, who are women in their thirties now, look like they're of women who were in their forties twenty or twenty-five years ago.
I mean, the pictures themselves look like scans of grainy Polariods taken sometime around 1982, but the hairstyles and the clothes the women are sporting look like they're circa that era as well.
It's baffling.
A while back I got an e-mail from OK Cupid with a map showing me where my best matches are located. Not only was Virginia not one of the states listed, but none of the three other states I've lived in made the list.
(Bonus question: What other three states has Jon lived in?)
The states listed aren't even geographically contiguous, and are scattered all about the country.
The map also showed where my best matches are worldwide. Top of the list? Israel.
I mean, sure, Israel is fine - Natalie Portman was born there, so that's a point in its favor (Yes, that Natalie Portman was born there is much more important to me than the widely-held belief that the Messiah was also born in that area) - and it's hardly as though I'm even slightly anti-Semitc (cf: Portman, Natalie and Johansson, Scarlett), but even so, Israel???
Oy vey.
I didn't do a whole lot in the way of organizing my comics today. In fact, I didn't do much to organize them at all, apart from separating out the ones that need to be bagged and boarded from the ones that already are.
When we ran out of bags and boards the other night I looked at the piles left and thought, "Oh, that's not so bad." Later I remembered that not all of the comics that are in boxes are actually bagged and boarded. Today I discovered that in addition to the multiple stacks outside of the boxes there are two and a quarter longboxes' worth of comics still needing to be bagged and boarded (and organized, and entered into my database).
I thought that the company that makes the comic book database program I use sold a bar code reader to help automate the process of inputting comics into the database, but it turns out that while they sell readers for most of their other database programs (book databases, movie databases, game databases), they don't have one for the comics program.
*Sigh*
In any case, that's pretty much all that's been going on.

2 comments:

Merlin T Wizard said...

Submission duly noted, acknowledged, and validated. Snacks were indeed stuffed in faces on said night.

Michigan, Minnesota, and New Mexico.

Heimdall said...

Oooh...sorry. Close, but not quite.