Nattering On About Cleaning & Old Flames

Thursday nights are the longest, because I don’t get to know if Husband will be home Friday afternoon or Saturday, until Friday Morning. I tidy up as best as I can, so that the Handsome Tall Fellow won’t realize how stagnant my home life becomes when he’s away. Vacuum the cat hair, wipe the bathrooms down, take the laundry basket with all my folded clothes from Sunday night and hide it in the back of the closet, so he doesn’t know it sat in the living for almost the entire week since he’s been gone.

I don’t know why I let things slide when I’m home alone. One part of it must be that I am busier during the week. I spend a lot of time out of the house, and don’t really think about what’s happening on the homefront. The other part is that I stop trying to be a good example. I know it’s one thing to leave a small mess that only I have to suffer through. If there were messes all the time, I would probably become less tolerant. I think that the Tall Fellow would definitely let some disasters get through if I started slacking on my end. Despite my small "alone time" cleanliness indiscretions, there are some things that I never let slip: Spills on the counter, clutter by the door, and the bed gets made every morning.

A hundred years ago, when I was barely nineteen, I dated an older jaded hipster type who always made his bed. He said making the bed felt like getting a fresh start every morning, like a sense of order was being restored to his life. I picked up this habit and his philosophy (as nineteen year old girls do), and have a long disappeared former beau to thank one of my daily rituals.

Interestingly enough, in my early days of Facebook, I attempted to contact this older jaded former beau of mine. I guess I wanted to know what happens to hipsters when they reach middle age. After a few phone conversations, I requested he come to meet myself, my current boyfriend (Handsome Tall Fellow, who is now my husband) and our old gang for a beer or two. He advised me that we could not meet for coffee because his current girlfriend was very jealous and controlling. After that talk, he did not call or email back. It’s really too bad that he couldn’t stick around. He is remembered by my circle as being very cynical, with a dry sense of humor and very, very sharp wit. He would have us clutching our stomachs, laughing with tears in our eyes… He was so quick with his words, it was everything we could do to keep up. If you require a visual image of this older hipster former flame, imagine a balding, slightly chubbier version of a young Kiefer Sutherland. My nineteen year old self adored him, and couldn’t believe he had chosen me out of all the possible girls in this wild, wild world.

Looking back, the man had troubles, and I’m sure he still does. When I say he was older, I really mean he was older. (My parents were unimpressed, if that helps with your imagination) In one of those phone conversations we had before his re-disappearance, he mentioned that his current girlfriend was, you guessed it, NINETEEN YEARS OLD… His favorite age, I guess. We had a good giggle about that.  I’ve always liked people who are self-aware enough to be able to laugh at themselves. He truly is an interesting person. I almost forgive him for rejecting the invitation to rejoin my life. Even now, if someone asked (and I’m not sure who would) for a list of my ten favorite former flames, he would definitely be in the top three… Hey wait, didn’t someone make a movie about that? 

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This entry didn’t end up where I thought it was going, but it’s getting late, and I don’t have the brain power to attempt a redirection.
So : Thursday nights, Cleanliness, Bed Making and Former Older Hipster Beaus. Tada!
Keep what you want and give the rest away,

Love, Jupi