Worthless Story Of Cleaning

I've heard it said that it is an American thing to respond in times of crisis and to be neglectful when some preventive measure could be taken that would avert crisis. I don't know exactly how true that is, but it feels right. It applies some to me. I struggle to do what is necessary in small doses so that I don't have to do a whole lot of what is right all at once. I never manage to clean one dish. I always am cleaning a whole bunch at once after I've been asked a little less nicely than the last time.

This is the case for most domestic stuff. I recently managed to do my laundry and clean my room. It was a major action on par with the Normandy invasion for me because it had been so very long since I had done either. Casualties were, thankfully, kept to a minimum. I was thankful for that, because the laundry in particular threatened to inflict them. As most articles of clothing I owned had reached an unacceptable state of decrepitude, it was quite a weight that I had to lug down to the laundry room and back.

Getting Soft

Of all the things that are supposed to make you happy in life, the most effective are often not very exciting. The exciting things are often a real crapshoot. Things ranging from consumer electronics to nights out drinking and partying can sound great, but even when they pay off their impact is limited. There are little things that make a steady impact, and not just a small one either. I find it hard to appreciate them properly, even as I extol them.

Pillows are a fine example. I've got a terrible pillow right now. I've gone with it for the last couple years, maybe. I thought it would be a good one, as it was at least in the mid-range of pillows at Target. I went for a firmer one, which maybe was my big mistake. It is definitely not intensely comfortable. Lately the cumulative effect of all those nights laying my head on it has been making itself known. I don't sleep well on it, nor do I rush to try sleeping most nights, with that being one contributing factor.

New Noise

As I write this, it is rather late. To be precise, it is 1:15 in the morning on the weekend, which some may judge to not be very late. Certainly it can feel less than late, but it feels late enough to me, as I've had a full day. I got up at 8 o'clock this morning to ensure I would be able to watch a football game, and I never had much of a chance to rest.

Some people are having a party over by the barbecue area, which is on the third floor just as my apartment is. They're rather noisy, which is a relative novelty still. For the first year or so that I was in the building, noisy gatherings there (or even within apartments) were rather discouraged. We were always made to believe some other tenant had complained, but the complaints stopped with subsequent building managers.

A Wave Of Possessions

Some friends of mine have moved out of my apartment building. This has made me very sad, as we were able to spend so much time together in the last couple years. They've become very close to me, and while none moved out of time, some are further than others and I will surely see them less. Still, I will see them all, and anyway I must try to look on the whole thing in some kind of positive light. Maybe I'll make other friends in the building.

Also I will note that I have acquired a number of the possessions that my friends cut loose as they sought to become lean, mean moving machines, not the least of which is a Blu Ray player that will go very nicely with the HD television I got recently. This was a necessity, because any video format less than that looks just awful on a nice flatscreen television. I will have to guard against spending too much time with it.

Another Stab At A Good Start

For the last while, I have not been running at 100 percent. I have at times felt unwell, and at the best of times I have let my standards of discipline and organization slip. It all begins with how I start my day. When I get up at the hour I mean to, that's good. When I blow past that by an hour or two, that's obviously no good. Too often I have been doing the latter, and the blame lies on my consistent failure to get to bed at a decent hour.

Once up, I have not been doing the things that I should. Showers are difficult for me. The time and trouble involved remains a deterrent, and once I'm up and at 'em, it's easy for me to put the shower off until some indeterminate time (which either becomes right before I go out or never). Everything is worse without a shower, but better with one. I must always remind myself of how critical it is that I shower before I have seen or heard anything that might grab my attention. It must be the first thing out of bed!

Reconstruction Now

Recent weeks have seen some bewildering activity in my apartment. One of my roommates has been making a short film, and he used our living room as a shooting location. As the film is a rather fantastical one and he is an exceptionally gifted set designer (among other things), it was not merely a matter of setting up some cameras and lights. Instead, he built the interior of an old German village cabin there.

It was astonishing to look at once finished, and quite interesting to track its progress leading up to that, but its impact on our daily lives could not help but color our perceptions of it, or mine anyway. Very quickly, that area of the apartment became a defacto no-go zone, unfit for watching television, eating in or sitting. It was necessary to shift those activities elsewhere, and for me that was mainly into my bedroom, wrecking the good habit I'd established of not eating in my bedroom.

Dropped

Something that seemed incredible happened to me the other day, or maybe it's rather conceited of me to say that it happened to me. It happened to a spider, but it's fair to say that it happened because of me. I was headed out of the house when I noticed the spider right on the outside of my bedroom door. I thought at first that a roommate had placed a plastic spider as a joke of a joke, but the spider moved, and I was alarmed.

Knowing how beneficial spiders are to the environment, I was determined not to kill it (as I regrettably have others in the past, which is shameful for an Eagle Scout). I rushed to the kitchen for a paper towel section, and returned to the spot of the sighting. The spider had moved on, but I soon enough found him inside my room, further compounding his crimes. I apprehended him in the paper towel and hoped I wasn't applying too much pressure or too little.

Doors

I was thinking the other day about the major security issue with my apartment building, which is that those who do not have their own key regularly get in very easily by means of hanging around until someone with a key opens the door and allows them in. I myself have been guilty of this. What is one to do. Warn the person to stay back as you shut the door in their face? The situation just cannot conclude in that fashion without awkwardness.

Just what is one to do? Well, I have come of with a sort of an idea, although it cannot be carried out without some considerable expense, and it may be no good anyway. As that would surely be passed on to tenants like myself, I will not press my idea too aggressively, but it could work. I was thinking about the method by which it is ensured that light does not enter a room where it is not welcome. You have a set of two doors far enough apart that the first is shut by the time the second is reached.

Coleridge's Dream

Something that happens periodically around an apartment building like mine is that they make repairs. It doesn't always happen in a timely and perfect fashion, but when I consider how it goes by comparison with repairs that I would make, I have to be very lenient. Really, it's a fine situation, and what kind of life would it be if things were perfect? Now, one area in which they work prodigiously to keep things in order is the plumbing.

Naturally, to fix the plumbing you have to shut the water off. I don't know much about that, which is perhaps made obvious by my puzzlement over why it is necessary to deny the entire building water in order to service a localized area. I must assume that there is some practical consideration, for they cannot do what they do out of some perverse desire to antagonize tenants. The point is that the needs of the few often outweigh the good of the many here.

While The Cat's Away

I had an incident the other day that upset me for a matter of some minutes. I was doing my laundry, and my system requires that I have all three washers available at the outset, reducing to only two dryers thereafter. There's always a period of some anxiety as I first check the machines and then rush to get my clothes down to the laundry room before anyone can claim one of the machines. It typically works out all right.

I remain a little on edge as I sort out my clothes and direct them into washers. My fear is that someone will come along wanting one of the machines while it is still in my power to be charitable and allow them one. I don't wish to be charitable, you see. My system is fragile, and such compassion is more than it can handle. Typically it doesn't happen that anyone comes along, and then there's generally no issue after that initial phase (so far as I know.)

Stop Me If You've Heard This

Recently I had the pleasure of visiting a friend in his 14th-floor apartment downtown. The interior of the place was nice and the building had some charming qualities to it, but clearly the most striking feature was its balcony. Stepping outside, one could see a considerable portion of the most appealing sights in LA's center. Bright lights and classic architecture were amply in evidence, as were people in nearby windows.

None of these things are present in my own balcony, or at least few. We are merely in a third-floor apartment, and while we avoid the worse fate of those below us by virtue of being on top, we still are not high enough to see much, not that there is much to be seen. There are no buildings within our direct line of sight to offer illicit views, and there are no buildings worthy of being looked at for their aesthetic merits.

Minor Developments

The ongoing struggle to make something of my room goes on. You'll recall that I recently acquired a bookcase to contain the tomes that had once languished in boxes and other undesirable situations. It is serving well so far, though I had initially feared that it might topple with anything but the most efficient distribution of book weight. Still problematic is my effort to beautify it with little trinkets and toys, as they get in the way of the books.

That's the general theme. The room becomes more and more functional, if not more aesthetically pleasing. The only way it's become prettier is that there isn't junk and trash all over. There is still nothing on the walls to speak of, outside of furniture and items on top of furniture. Those things alone obscure any of the standard white paint that comes with any apartment. I ought to do something about that.

Staying Put

I am by nature a homebody, and I have grown a lot by overriding that as much as I can. I can even convince myself that I've gotten over it, but there is inevitably a moment where I realize that it is still there, and that I am still not naturally a person who flees the home at every opportunity. I still look for reasons to stay home- to decline opportunities to go out. I feel badly when I do stay home in the face of such opportunities, so perhaps I am straddling the line.

There are those times where I am holed up at home alone for a prolonged period of time, and it's a peculiar experience. The home can feel like an incredibly expansive world, even when you live in a modestly sized abode like mine. The far end of the apartment, which contains the living room and kitchen, can seem as far away and exotic as Thailand. The area between my bedroom and the bathroom can be all the space I feel I need.

Buzzed

I have lived here in this apartment building for something like a year and a half. In all that time, there are some things that I have never taken advantage of. One is the fitness room, which I have really only ever used to weigh myself. I never have worked out in there, but I think I'm in the company of most residents on that. I also never have had much use for the garage, but there's nothing odd in that either. I have used the grill only through others, I think.

Something I have just begun to use is the buzzer system. Sometime before I moved it, they stopped using the buzzer mechanisms installed in the wall and started using a device that connected the person seeking to gain entrance with the person who lives in the building via telephone. The resident has to supply a phone number, and we just were not diligent about that. Frankly though, I don't feel that we are alone in deserving blame. That's not the point, though.

Get Ready

Periodically, there is some threat of natural disaster here. Typically, it's an earthquake of minor proportions, and we're implored to take it as a wake-up call. We're told how to conduct ourselves during the initial shaking, and we're also advised that we should have a kit ready to help us through some minimum period of time before help can reach us. Of course, I have never in my time living on my own had a proper kit of my own, although roommates have.

I'm not entirely without resources. My terrible diet of canned ravioli and other non-perishable items would become a blessing in the absence of any proper food. If I'm lucky, the emergency strikes when I am eating something like cup o'noodles for lunch, because that would endure better than the cold cut sandwiches that I might otherwise be eating. Of course, those noodles would depend on the water I have in one carafe and two or three bottles.

To See My Way Clear

Out of necessity, I recently rearranged my computers so that both are on one side of the table and array of desks that comprise my little home office. What happened is that the keyboard tray of the older desk collapsed entirely, and I resolved to convert it into more of a straight desk for handwriting and other purposes requiring a clear, flat surface. It seems to serve adequately in that capacity, although I would very much like a proper desk.

A consequence of moving the big desktop computer is that the major obstruction of my view out the window is gone. It had been there almost since I moved it, I think, although it was in a different place initially. This turn of events had me contemplating my view out the window afresh. There is not so very much to see, but it's not so bad, really. Too seldom do I even draw open the blinds. I tend to shun the sunlight, not on my own account but that of my numerous electronic screens.

Two Days To Die For

The past couple of days have really been something. I hope I can duplicate them in perpetuity, and I'm sure that you will easily see why when I describe them in broad strokes. They've been productive days, and while this is partly explained by the fact that I got up at a decent hour in spite of having no early engagements, that can hardly explain it entirely. I suspect that there may be something supernatural at work here, or something religious.

 Yesterday I woke up at a tolerable hour of the morning, although by no means what most people would call an exceptionally early one. Let's just say that it was in the morning, and I think that's enough. The big thing that I managed to achieve was over on the Twitter end, where I got ahead of the day's work for the first time in a while. I was awfully proud of myself for getting to work during the morning and afternoon, when I actually do my best work.

Doing It Dirty

We have a dishwasher here at the apartment (and, thwarting the old joke, none of us is married). That makes it easy to keep a reliable supply of clean dishes, or rather it should do that. Somehow it happens all too often that the thing that you need is dirty, or there are no more of that thing. Admittedly, I only have one coffee mug that I like, so that's my fault. Why, though, should we ever be out of clean plates when we are never out of detergent? I have no answer.

I do have an answer for how to proceed when you are out of such items. Of course you can get the dishes loaded and the machine going, but that takes a while. Who has such time? You can also hand-wash the one thing that you need, but then it is left wet and you can either wait for it to dry or dry it with something that will leave fibers and shreds of things on it. No, there is in truth just one course of action that will satisfy me.

Cold To Hold

I have what they call a beer cozy, or what I guess you would have to just call a cozy if beer isn't your thing. It's an insulating sleeve made of foam rubber, and you slide the can into it, thus keeping it cold for longer. It's a handy device, although it makes the beer look ungainly and awkward. It just ruins the can's graceful lines altogether, but you put up with that for what kind of enhancement it provides. It's like a bicycle helmet in that regard.

I'm not entirely sure where I came by this one, although my best guess is that it fell into my possession by the kindness of a former roommate. On it in white lettering are the words "Ken & Fran", and below that is a date. Also depicted are a pair of bells. I think it must have been some kind of wedding favor given out to attendees. I don't mean disrespect to Ken and Fran, but that's kind of a lame thing to hand out, and it strikes the wrong tone as well. I guess that's just disrespectful on its face. I'm sorry.

Smallest Sphere Of Influence

My room has lately undergone something of a transformation. I'm hesitant to say that it will be anything like permanent, because that is a place that perfectly exemplifies the principle of entropy as I understand it (which is not really well, I'm sure). Let's say that my room starts neat and clean. It'll stay that way for a few days, with the breakdown starting slowly. Inevitably, some kind of freak out will leave boxes and papers everywhere. I'll live with that for a period of time probably in months. The process is completed by a bookending freak out of cleaning.

Well, I had that second conniption the other day, and we'll just see how long I can hold it together. Something that encourages me is another development. I recently have acquired a string of small furniture items. A number of weeks ago I bought a chair from an attractive lady neighbor. It's really icing on the cake that the chair, weird-looking as it is, has been of value. It's rough around the edges, has a slender back and stands on three legs. I like it.