What I Want For Christmas 2014

Hello, I am a twenty-two year old post grad with a Christmas list. The following are some items I would like as well as a short explanation for them.

 

1. Roughly sixty rolls of quarters.

Wow, guys, I’ve found out that laundry is expensive. Not only expensive, but it is also only funded by a type of currency that no one ever carries. If rolls of quarters cannot be found, may I suggest writing to my apartment manager, Genesis*, and suggest a state of the art credit card machine that would fund the oldest washers and dryers nowhere near the Mason-Dixon line.

*Name has not been changed.

2. A chair.

You see, I’m broke. The only sit-able places in my apartment are as follows:

• My Bed
• My Floor
• My Roommates Couch
• A Barstool
• A Different Barstool

Yep, that’s it, folks! On the upside, my calves are tight and toned thanks to my daily routine of making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and eating it standing up and also day dreaming of seating.

3. Yearly supply of toilet paper.

Uh, this should be on everyone’s list every single year and it’s a wonder I’m the first to actual vocalize my need for this.

4. Bananas that do not ripen.

Let’s face it. The banana is a tricky little bastard of a fruit. How many times have you gone to the grocery store with dreams of eating one banana every morning until they’re all gone. Then, and only then, will the last banana have gotten a single age spot. Bananas are only 19 cents each! I’ll get five! I type this as I peer upon three overripe bananas. Not even a bread recipe could save these suckers.

5. K-Cups.

K-Cups! K-Cups galore! Saving money instead of going to Starbucks every morning by using your Keurig? Well, actually, you’re not even a little. The cheapest packs are about $12.00, which by my calculations means each delicious cup of coffee costs roughly one million dollars.

We didn’t have a math club in high school, could someone double check that for me?

6. Dust Bunnies.

Now, hear me out. I know what you’re thinking–doesn’t she get dust bunnies without even asking? Ah, I see what you mean, friend, but I’m not referring to that kind of dust bunny. I’m referring to a small rabbit (Are rabbits rodents? For some reason that was the original vocabulary in this section, but I’m 84% sure that a rabbit is not a rodent.) that would eat up all my dust for me. This way, I would get a fun companion, my cleaning would get done, and also I wouldn’t have to pay to feed this little bugger because its food source would just be the general crap that is a side-effect of living! Win win win win win!

7. A friend.

Probably my saddest list item. I have lots of friends. I HAVE LOTS I SWEAR IT. However, I would like a friend without the hassle of actual friendship. This new “friend” would serve one single purpose: giving the illusion of proper socialization. I would never ever ever speak to this person. This person would merely be there to sit next to me in silence while I do anything at all in order for me to feel as though I’ve had a positive interaction with society.

 

Well, there ya have it! Whether or not I’ve been good this year seems irrelevant, Santa, and I thought only our lord and savior Jesus Christ was able to judge us for our doings.

My Emotional Journey Through The #IceBucketChallenge

Anyone who knows me or who follows me on Twitter or reads this blog, for that matter, knows how smug I was about not being nominated for the Ice Bucket Challenge. I had even written a post yesterday afternoon about how a friend had checked with me about whether or not I would do the challenge and when I told her I didn’t own a bucket, and also I live in a state with a severe drought, she politely failed to nominate me.

Not even an hour later, I checked my phone and I had a notification from Facebook. I opened the application and was instantly filled with fear. One of my best friends from high school, a friend of the other friend who had asked me if I would participate, had nominated me.

 

My life was forever changed.

 

I sprung into action. I texted all my best friends from college and instantly started complaining. Water? Ice cold water? Poured on my precious head? The same challenge my friend had been nominated for and for which I consequently ridiculed him for a day? Oh, that one? YEP, THAT ONE.

I was, first, angry. I ran through my plans for the next 24 hours–would I physically be able to complete this task in the allotted time? Then, I instantly realized, I am so severely unemployed that if I were any more free, I would be a bird. I had no excuse. Nothing to blame for my inability to complete the challenge. So, I started to think. This was an opportunity for me. I suddenly was filled with hope and wonder and ability.

I immediately updated my iMovie software. I knew that would come in handy. I initially imagined a delightful video where you would see me purchase a bucket and ice and all the accouterments that come along with this challenge. Well, that’s dumb, I thought. Why not use the money I would use to purchase that and donate it to the cause I was about to support?

 

So, I spent the evening dreaming of ways to make this challenge video the best yet. I came up with nothing special really.

 

I woke up the next morning a bit dejected. I had resigned myself to just donating the money and not performing the challenge because I thought it would be sad to do alone. So I sat down, ready to write a blog post about this emotional journey, and went to alsa.org to donate. I was instantly filled with a new fire for the challenge. I thought, how dumb would I be if I don’t pour some water on my head? This is one of the only times where I’m happy to go with the crowd. My iMovie was updated anyway, might as well put it to good use. So, I donated, grabbed my laptop and a barstool, and headed into the bathroom. That is by far the oddest string of words ever put together, but it is exactly what happened. I set up my computer to face my beautiful shower, stepped out to grab a giant pot of water and ice and headed back into the bathroom. I made a practice intro because I wanted to make sure that it would actually record me doing this, because if I was going to feel generous, EVERYONE MUST KNOW.

 

Then, I did it. I poured a giant pot of freezing water on my head. I edited the video so so poorly, and here we are now.

 

I have accomplished something.

Laundry (Cont.)

Here’s the thing, though, I have never in my entire adult life (because my Mom did my laundry for me until I left for college–sad to some, incredible for me) sorted my laundry before I got to the laundry room. So there I am with enough clothes to fill a really small, personal store and they are all wadded up and whites are mixed with darks which are mixed with colors. I do my clothes laundry in three loads–whites, darks, and colors. This does not include my towels and my sheets which also have to be washed, but that’s usually on a separate day because I do not ever need to spend four hours on a menial task such as laundry.

 

So, there I am in my complex’s laundry room, which is not air conditioned but does have a horrifying looking window that no longer has the screen because someone probably punched it out in a fit of rage, with a giant pile of laundry that needs sorting, a roll of quarters, and also, I’m wearing pajamas. Why, you ask? Well, because, I want everything possible to be clean that I would potentially wear out in public, so I choose my least attractive ensemble and wear that during my laundry escapade.

 

Once all of my clothes are sorted, I pour in my detergent (and throw in a Color Catcher–Shout, feel free to sponsor me!) and close the lid of the washer. It is at this time that I realize that each load of laundry costs $1.50 per wash. I could honestly save forty orphans with the money I have to waste on doing laundry. They weren’t too greedy, though, because each dry is only $1.25, so maybe I’ll get a $0.49 burrito from Taco Bell tonight if I’m lucky. I grab twelve quarters from my roll and dejectedly put them into the machines and press start. Ah, thirty minutes to do whatever I damn well please. Well, I don’t know if anyone has realized this, but thirty minutes is not enough time to do much of anything. I usually like to use the time I’m doing my laundry to do other household chores like clean my room, bathroom, and kitchen, but at about the 20 minute mark, I’m still trying to get that damn towelette out of the Clorox wipes canister. Then it’s time to go move my laundry into the dryers. I am absolutely the person that is there the second that my clothes are done in the washer. For one thing, I don’t want any of the colors running together, and another thing, if anyone else touched my laundry that I didn’t know, I would freak. So, there I am, as the buzzer goes off on the washers–I throw a couple of dryer sheets into the dryers and, of course, realize that this dryer’s previous lessee was not kind enough to clean out the lint trap. In go my clothes and out goes my life savings. Forty-five minutes to get more shit done.

 

Well, I don’t know if anyone has realized this, but forty-five minutes is actually enough time to get things done, but since I’ve figured out that thirty minutes is not enough time, I’ve convinced myself that forty-five minutes isn’t either, so I waste that time. Ah, one more episode of “Homeland” can’t hurt, right? Time to grab the clothes from the dryer. If you haven’t realized, I am quite the control freak, so I absolutely cannot not fold my clothes the second they come out of the dryer. So, since I only have the mesh bag and no other real will to live, I make a conscious decision to fold my clothes right there in that dank laundry room, which, as previously stated, may be a medieval torture chamber. I fold and fold and fold until all eighty or so items are crisp and clean and now it’s time to transfer them back to my closet–a feat that takes no fewer than two trips to and from the laundry room each week.

 

But, my laundry is done now, my bank account is overdraft, and my mesh bag is as sad and lifeless as ever. Until next week, commercial washers and dryers.