Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Longaberger blows and I rock

I truly hate to shatter illusions, dear readers, but despite all evidence to the contrary, I must confess, I am not really a domestic goddess. In truth, I clean things that only bother ME, when I decide I've been bothered enough, and the rest of the time, I'd rather hang out on Facebook or vacuum, truth be told.

This is not to say I'm not totally wicked envious of the women out there who have small children, lovely perfect dust-free houses AND who regularly bake without filling the house with putrid black smoke. I am truly envious of these women.... for about the five seconds it takes me to realize they probably have severe prescription drug problems, no personality, sell Longaberger baskets and wouldn't know a vibrator from a blender. Then, I feel smug AND superior.

Yesterday though, I had finally had ENOUGH of Princess's (Princess'? Anyone know the proper apostrophe possessive usage there? Hello?) room. The Man had painted it (after I'd started AND given up) and it looks quite nice and girly and all, minus the towering pile of clothes, Barbies, random torn paper bits, etc etc. I decided it had to go! And go it did. I filled an entire trash bag with broken plastic pieces AND unearthed The Destroyer's very favoritist shoes in the world, which we'd lost somewhere back in July. (They are black Crocs with little race car thingies stuck in the holes and he loves them very, very much. So much that I had to pry them off his hostile little feet when he wanted to wear them in the frozen tundra outside....)

Now her room is shiny and new and she has pleeeeeenty of space for all the Barbie Projects in the world. (FYI: The Barbie Projects involve artfully arranging hundreds of Barbies in similar positions; basically every time I walk in there the Barbies are all waving with one hand, or have their heads moved and it's very sort of creepy. Someday she'll command thousands for her Feminist anti-patriarchy post-modern art. Or something.)

In fact, having such rousing success with Princess' (Princess's?!) room has motivated me to try organizing perhaps another room. Or closet. Or....office area. I could be a smiling, organized, child-loving, baker! I could! Right after I dust off an old Lortab and swig some gin. Seriously....the dust may be here, but so is the personality and isn't THAT what counts? If not, you may proceed to another, more Longaberger friendly blog. (And really what the fizzuck is UP with those baskets??? How many do you need??? Is there a world-wide basket shortage? It's not like we haul laundry down to the river in baskets on our heads or they might be useful....)

Comments, questions, are YOU a domestic goddess?

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