Quondam

December 2012
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I swear on all that is holey

What, after yesterday’s announcement, you were expecting great literature?

Guess again . . .

 

She hands me the camera, “And here’s a picture of the living room.”

I peer into the camera’s digital display, “Yeah, it looks awesome. When are you moving in?”

“Soon. We need to get painters to paint the whole house before we can live there. Obviously.”

“Ummmm . . . why?”

“Seriously?”

I look at the photos again, which depict a house with clean beige walls, exactly the color of the walls of the house in which we are sitting, exactly the color she has chosen for every wall I have ever known her to paint, “Are you talking about the outside of the house? What color is it? Is it really bad? One time Mark and I bought a house that was painted miniature-golf green, and it was garishly hideous, but it didn’t stop us from moving into the house.”

She stares at me.

“Oh! Are there gang signs painted on the house? Yeah, I would want those painted over before I moved in . . . are you guys moving to gangland? Sweet!”

Her stare becomes a glare, and so I explain, “Also? I am bringing back Sweet! . . . pass it on.”

She grabs at the camera, “No, we are not moving to gangland, you fool. The interior paint. The walls. We have to get them painted before we can move in.”

“Alright, I’ll play. What color are you going to paint them?”

She swings her arms to indicate the beigeness of the walls around us, “Something like this.”

I reach for the camera and click through the photos again, “OK, seriously . . . what am I missing? How would already beige walls keep you from moving into the house whose walls you plan to paint . . . beige?”

“Germs.”

“Germs?”

“Why are you being such a pain in the ass? Paint germs.”

“Paint germs?”

“Not germs from the paint. Germs that stick to the paint.”

“Germs that stick to the paint?”

She stares at me, “Are you seriously going to repeat everything I say?”

“Only the crazy things.”

“What? Everybody knows germs stick to paint. I can’t live in a house covered with the previous owner’s germs.”

I laugh, “OK, first? Everybody does not know that germs stick to paint, because that’s just not true. And second? I will now forever imagine the paint in your new house covered with ejaculate. That stuff sticks to paint, let me tell you.”

“You are now officially uninvited to the housewarming.”

“Fine by me. Although if I am excluded, I will tell everyone you are painting the walls with semen. Your move.”

“You suck.”

“I also swallow, but for you? I will spit.”

“And insane.”

I explain, “On the walls, I mean. I will spit on the walls. When is this party, anyway?”

“There is no semen on the walls.”

“You don’t actually know that. Maybe the previous tenants were wall-fuckers.”

“Wall-fuckers?”

“Against the wall. Not actually fucking the wall . . . although I guess you could cut some holes in the drywall and make that happen. Ooooh . . . you should so have a glory-hole at your housewarming party!”

“A glory-hole?”

“Can I be on the other side with some peanut butter and my Labrador? Please? Please?”

“Peanut butter and your Labrador?”

“Are you seriously going to repeat everything I say?”

She laughs, “Only the crazy things.”

“Anyone you know allergic to peanuts? Or dogs?”

“You are insane.”

“What? I’m just thoughtful.”

“Anyway . . . we need to have all the walls painted because of germs.” She waves a hand, “Shut the fuck up. New paint seals in the contagion. It’s a fact.”

“Whatever, crazy woman.”

“Besides, maybe I will actually do some color. Maybe I don’t want to live in beige.”

“OK, decorating tip . . . ready?”

“You have a decorating tip?”

“Don’t act all shocked. I have tips.”

“OK, give me the tip.”

Snorting with laughter, I gasp out, “Why must you make me giggle as I try to impart knowledge?”

“Shut up and give me the tip.”

“I am now officially dying from giggles.”

“Speak!”

“OK, let me catch my breath . . . alright, one time? One time I decided to redecorate this small bathroom we had downstairs in our old house, but we didn’t have much money with which to accomplish this redecoration, and so I hit on the genius idea of paint! I looked through decorating magazines, and I found a photo I liked and I bought paint — two complementing shades of brown to match the photo. I painted the room and I accessorized the room to match the paint and it looked awesome. I was so pleased and so proud and then Mark used the bathroom for the first time and he said . . . and this is a quote . . . It’s like taking a shit in a shit.”

“And so the tip is . . . ?”

“Paint small bathrooms so as to avoid shitstain-associations, if at all possible. Mark was not the only one who felt compelled to mock that bathroom — stupid friends and family. It was humiliating.”

“So . . . Paint small bathrooms so as to avoid shitstain-associations?”

“Yup. You’re welcome.”

“You’re like Martha Stewart with the tip!”

“I know, right? She is so a man. You know she’s packing more than frosting tips.”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

She looks at the photos again and sighs, “It’s going to cost a lot of money to get the house painted. I don’t suppose you want to help me paint a couple rooms?”

“Not fucking even.”

“You suck.”

“Yes, tell people that. Let the peanut butter and Labrador be a surprise.”

She is caught up in her photos, “All I want is a clean start.”

“This is going to be the best housewarming party ever!”

“Wait, what did you say?”

“Shhhh. Fresh start. Contagion contained. Good impression. Got it.”

“Promise?”

“I swear on all that is holey.”

She sighs, “You just put an e in holy, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.”

    31 comments to I swear on all that is holey

    • Off I go to pick up the girls and take them shopping at Target.

      Not the mall. Did you see what happened at our mall yesterday? Yeah, so not the mall.

      Fuck.

    • Christina Newman (@ForeverYGirls)

      I laughed to the point of misty eyes. Then I read your first comment and came spiraling back to reality. You giveth and taketh away… :-D

    • "OG" Axel

      Glory hole, wall fucking, shit, semen and spitting. Definite runner-up for best post ever, seriously EVER.

      I’d so buy your book but I’m not sure where you’d find it- nonfiction, self-improvement, sci-fi/fantasy or “graphic” novel.

    • Mary

      So, we are building a house in the next year. I vow not to paint the bathrooms brown. And you are so invited to the housewarming, Labrador in tow.

    • Mishelle

      Ok, where WERE you this year as I painted every single room in my house? I could have used the humour!! BWAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA!! I’m now looking at the walls differently!

      That wasn’t your mall was it? Seriously…

      M

      • Hee hee . . . so happy you giggled.

        There are two large indoor malls near us, and yes . . . Clackamas is one of them.

        Scary.

        I know.

        • Mishelle

          Holy shit.

          I watched some of it on the news early this morning and was freaked out because it was a mall so close to Christmas, which was bound to be packed.

          M

          • Yeah . . . I had to have a talk with the girls about it last night.

            Sigh.

            I hate when the world conspires to prove that it can be scary.

            I ALREADY KNOW THAT.

            Hmmph.

            • Mishelle

              I hate having to explain that kind of thing to the children… I hate it.
              Yes, the world is a scary place BUT why do I have to explain that to my kids at such a young time. Yes, the have to know this fact of life but at 9 and 13? I’ve already had to explain to much crappy stuff to them but some idiot who goes into a mall at Christmas time with a gun and shoots a ton of ammo off before killing himself?!?!?
              That “Yes, the world is a scary place but here is what’s good in the world too” spiel gets a little shorter every year but I fight for it.

              M

              • Yes.

                All of that.

                I tell the girls that the world is good, and that most of the people in it are good. I try to teach them to be wary, but also to trust in their decisions about the people with whom they surround themselves. I tell them that they are loved, and that they can rely on that love.

                I also tell them that safety is not guaranteed.

                That not everyone is a friend.

                And that there is danger.

                Sigh.

                All of that.

                Merry Christmas, right?

                Yes.

    • Kris?

      You crack me all the fuck up.

      Seriously.

      That is all.

    • Sue B

      Ok, now I see you are just screwing with me. Yesterday was a very moving post about respecting your girls’ privacy and how it may impact your publishing the book. Very responsible and adult decision.
      Then today you write a post in which you prove your ability to warp time because you are CLEARLY talking to future Maj about her painting walls to seal out the germs of the prior residents. Because, really? You expect me to believe that there could be TWO people who would think of that? Just not possible. But very well written.
      PS Ermma Bombeck was able to write about children who were 98% fictional and funny.
      PPS I really like the voice you were able to bring to this conversation. Just do that. Create a couple of fun people, throw a couple of odd situations at them and see what they do. You are good at it. And funny.

      • Ooooh, but guess what?

        Although, as I mentioned in the tags, this is a fictionalized version of truth, the conversations in this post ACTUALLY HAPPENED with someone other than Maj. Swear to god.

        That said?

        I did channel a future Maj to round out the details of the conversation.

        I so did.

        You are very smart indeed.

        Me

      • Um yep. I was thinking the SAME thing. Even before Kris called you smart…

        • Funny thing?

          Others have said that these posts sound as though I am talking to myself.

          Or as though my daughters are speaking to one another in adult versions.

          Even though, and I swear this is true, there is another woman here to whom I am speaking.

          Is it perhaps because I am surrounded by intelligent hilarious women?

          My friends, my daughters, my mother, my sisters.

          Yes.

          I think so.

    • a snowsprite

      Bahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Ahahaha!
      And the peanut butter.

    • Cannot. Stop. Laughing.

    • Jessica

      I’m totally reminded of that scene in HAPPINESS where Phillip Seymour Hoffman uses his ejaculate to stick something to the wall.

      *shudder*

      And I saw that movie what? 10 years ago? YOU CAN NEVER UNSEE THINGS.

      Glory hole!

    • Tom

      There are parts (and by “parts,” I mean “all”) of my house that clearly have not seen a fresh coat of paint for thirty years. (That is, well into the reign of the previous owners.) This year I decide to put black lights in for the Halloween party. In the stairwell to the downstairs, there are drippy stains on the walls that glow in the black light. God, I hope that’s soap.

      I think it’s time to paint.

      • OK, you win best comment of the day. Possibly the month.

        THAT IS AWESOME.

        I need a black light.

        Or luminol . . . they sell luminol at Costco, you think?

        Me