bleach
The fumes from the Comet cleanser and Tilex I've doused the bathtub in have turned my insides hollow. I can feel my nose hairs bristling against the noxious intrusion. I just put a second layer down on the tub and I'm going to let it simmer for a while before I go back in there and clean it up.
My roommates came back today so we could start cleaning the place up. Even though I'm staying, our landlord wants to do a walkthrough just to check the place out, basically. This is a really nice place in a pretty shitty neighborhood that's walking distance to everything. We've got a big backyard, a nice sized front yard and a white picket fence. The house has been kept in the family, so to speak, over the last three years about. A good number of tennants have come and gone, but the place hasn't been completely turned over in quite some time. The landlord's a cool guy who buys me drinks when he sees me at bars and liked to come over occasionally to smoke weed with my roommate. Tonight, we vacuumed the floors, did about half of the kitchen and I got to work on the tub, which is a pain in the ass because of the hard water in this town. We, of course, drank cocktails as we did so.
The place is really fucking empty though. The futon's gone now so there's just a couch in the living room and a TV stand with no TV on it. When I came back from the most high rocking SWORD show last night--at 3am--I felt a little like I was walking into a squat.
Like three years ago, my grandmother, my father's mother passed away. She'd been bedridden for quite some time, and I think there was some drama between her and my mother that I never really understood. We were close, I guess, for a while until my grandfather (her husband) died from Parkinson's. Towards the end of her life, she sat in bed a lot and had a string of nurses who'd come by the house. It was rough watching my dad watch his parents deteriorate like that.
I got the call that she passed away when I was getting ready to go to a show some local comedians were putting on downtown. I'd interviewed them the week before and they wanted me to come by and say hello after the show. When the girl I went with picked me up, I decided to go anyway. I think I told her in the car. She asked me if I still wanted to go, and I said I did. I figured it couldn't hurt.
The show wasn't very funny, and even if it was, I don't think I was in much of a mood to laugh. The girl wasn't digging it either--I'd warned her that I hadn't heard the troupe before, so I wasn't sure what to expect--and since we were sitting towards the back, we were able to make a quick retreat as tactfully as possible. I'd heard later from a coworker that she'd bumped into the comedians at the bar after the show and they said that they loved the article I wrote and were hoping they could meet me. I felt like a prick after that.
When I got dropped off at home, a shitty little apartment at the time, I went upstairs and drank half a bottle of Jagermeister while listening to Sigur Ros's (). I felt sad that I wasn't that sad and wondered if it was because I was almost 3000 miles away that the news didn't hit me so hard. I was looking for the video for "Glosoli" (from Takk...) when I found the clip above, which triggered that memory. I should probably start listening to happier music.
My roommates came back today so we could start cleaning the place up. Even though I'm staying, our landlord wants to do a walkthrough just to check the place out, basically. This is a really nice place in a pretty shitty neighborhood that's walking distance to everything. We've got a big backyard, a nice sized front yard and a white picket fence. The house has been kept in the family, so to speak, over the last three years about. A good number of tennants have come and gone, but the place hasn't been completely turned over in quite some time. The landlord's a cool guy who buys me drinks when he sees me at bars and liked to come over occasionally to smoke weed with my roommate. Tonight, we vacuumed the floors, did about half of the kitchen and I got to work on the tub, which is a pain in the ass because of the hard water in this town. We, of course, drank cocktails as we did so.
The place is really fucking empty though. The futon's gone now so there's just a couch in the living room and a TV stand with no TV on it. When I came back from the most high rocking SWORD show last night--at 3am--I felt a little like I was walking into a squat.
Like three years ago, my grandmother, my father's mother passed away. She'd been bedridden for quite some time, and I think there was some drama between her and my mother that I never really understood. We were close, I guess, for a while until my grandfather (her husband) died from Parkinson's. Towards the end of her life, she sat in bed a lot and had a string of nurses who'd come by the house. It was rough watching my dad watch his parents deteriorate like that.
I got the call that she passed away when I was getting ready to go to a show some local comedians were putting on downtown. I'd interviewed them the week before and they wanted me to come by and say hello after the show. When the girl I went with picked me up, I decided to go anyway. I think I told her in the car. She asked me if I still wanted to go, and I said I did. I figured it couldn't hurt.
The show wasn't very funny, and even if it was, I don't think I was in much of a mood to laugh. The girl wasn't digging it either--I'd warned her that I hadn't heard the troupe before, so I wasn't sure what to expect--and since we were sitting towards the back, we were able to make a quick retreat as tactfully as possible. I'd heard later from a coworker that she'd bumped into the comedians at the bar after the show and they said that they loved the article I wrote and were hoping they could meet me. I felt like a prick after that.
When I got dropped off at home, a shitty little apartment at the time, I went upstairs and drank half a bottle of Jagermeister while listening to Sigur Ros's (). I felt sad that I wasn't that sad and wondered if it was because I was almost 3000 miles away that the news didn't hit me so hard. I was looking for the video for "Glosoli" (from Takk...) when I found the clip above, which triggered that memory. I should probably start listening to happier music.
1 comment:
I kinda felt the same when my grandfather passed. I was sad, but not sad. I felt more-- and this is going to sound horrible-- relieved than anything. He didn't want to live after my grandmother had gone, couple that with dementia and it was a nightmare for us all. I was happy that he could finally find some peace.
In my experience, it's only painful when the death is sudden and unexpected.
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