Tainted Love
March 10th, 2008
You know when you’re in a hotel room — say, on a vacation for the first night, or visiting family during a holiday — and you wake up in the middle of the night and you’re just not sure where the hell you are or how you got there? For a brief flash, it’s like you’ve been kidnapped and are waiting to discover that you are, in fact, handcuffed to the wall and some man named Stu is hovering over you in his rubber chaps and oh, by the way, he wants to have his way with you before he slits your throat, if you’re not busy. Now. And then slowly you come to and realize, no no, I’m in my parents’ spare bedroom/Marriott/Doubletree/whatever.
I’ve woken up like that almost every day, and you’d think by now I’d be accustomed to it, or at least would be able to place myself in some sort of vague geographical location. But no. Every morning at 4 a.m. like clockwork, I wake up completely disoriented with a desperate desire to pee like I’ve never peed before. I haven’t made it through the night without a minimum of two trips to the bathroom since we moved here — it’s so DRY, with the heat on and all (and lack of humidity, thank you Florida), that I’ve been drinking like a camel in the desert. My lips, too, are none too pleased, and resemble the neck of a turtle and are about as appealing to kiss, I’m sure. Mmmm… turtle neck.
(Turtle neck, by the way, gives me the worst visual ever, and reminds me of that utterly hilarious Blog Share post on R’s blog about the turkey wattle. It’s funny how things like that just stick with you — when I was single, I was dating this guy who was perfectly lovely, until one day I noticed he had piggy hands. I don’t know why, it’s just that suddenly, I looked at his hands and they were like miniature pork products resting on his palm. And it ALSO reminds me of a conversation I had with a friend today wherein I admitted it would be hard for me to date someone in his 70s unless I had married them when they were younger and/or was in my 60s or 70s myself. For many reasons, but aesthetically speaking, it’s because of Old Man Flabby Butt. I’m not against Old Man Flabby Butt, it’s that for some reason, I need that Old Man Flabby Butt to come about organically, or at least be logical, because at that age, I will be sporting Old Lady Flabby Butt myself, you know? Of course by that time, all the old men and their flabby butts will want YOUNG TAUT butts, so I’ll be alone in my elderly flab and this whole conversation is moot. Or mute, as too many of my colleagues have said in the past. MUTE. Anyway, good thing I’m happily married, is what I’m saying, because I’m sounding like a bit of an asshole here, I know. No pun intended. With luck and good health on our side, by the time I end up with an OMFB, it will be one I’ve seen grow INTO its current form, rather than being surprised by it.)
(End, uh, OMFB and piggy fingers tangent.)
Aaand, we’re back to 4 a.m. and I don’t know where I am! So, when I finally figure out where I am, I am jostled awake by the fact that hello, I am in Vermont. Which is very close to Canada. Which is VERY FAR away from where I was two weeks ago, and I know that’s obvious, but have you ever played the game where you try to picture yourself on a map, like a little mobile push pin? For some reason, that always gets me, like HELLO, I LIVE IN VERMONT. When did that happen? And then my mind does that whole camera pan thing like Jim Carrey in The Truman Show, only I’m a little blue push pin amid a sea of moose and pine trees, waving wildly for the cameramen to come get me, or at least let me know that they’re THERE.
I’m sorry. I know this is boring as sin (though sin is much more exciting), because by now, you’ve all figured out that I’ve moved, while it is still dawning on me day by day. I will get over this, really I will, it’s just that it’s only been a week, and I’m still so surprised by it all, I don’t know why. Do you know that sometimes I think hey, I should stop by and see my old hairdresser, without realizing that DUH, that would be a FLIGHT?
And hey, thanks for the dishwashing tips. I am both comforted and alarmed that there are so many of us with a constant fear of germs, and while I realize on some level, it’s irrational, one of my good friends got salmonella from an EGG. A REGULAR EGG, COOKED IN HIS HOUSE. And dude, he didn’t even EAT the rotten egg, it just happened to be near an egg that he did eat, and he ate the okay egg sunny side up, which meant that while yes, it was fine, it was raw and had been tainted! By the bad egg, bitchy little Veruca Salt that it was. And while I realize maybe he should have tossed the entire dozen, he ate the egg that was on the OTHER SIDE! TAINTED EGGS, man. They’re EVERYWHERE, lurking like evil little gnomes waiting to wreak havoc on our intestines at a moment’s notice. This is why we must be vigilant.
And I really enjoy italics, don’t I? HI, WOULD YOU LIKE SOME ITALICS WITH YOUR EGGS?
I’m sure I had something else — in fact, I know I did. I sat down to write today with a PURPOSE, though very likely an absurd one. So here we are again. Nowhere, but with more blue push pins and flabby butts!
Happy Tuesday!
*Soft Cell. Or at least, their version is the most famous, I think.
Entry Filed under: Nuttin'
24 Comments Add your own
1. whoorl | March 10th, 2008 at 8:13 pm
Never eating eggs again.
2. Mauigirl | March 11th, 2008 at 1:08 am
You are hilarious. Turkey wattles and Old Man Flabby Butt! I love it.
I’ve never gotten sick from a semi-raw egg but I did get sick from warm cole slaw. To this day I never eat cole slaw in a restaurant without touching it with my finger first to see if it’s cold!
3. Heather B. | March 11th, 2008 at 3:53 am
I haven’t had eggs in a month and was contemplating going back in there and enjoying some scrambled with cheese. Now I will not. So, thanks.
Also, I’ve been living in Upstate NY for almost a year and I still get that “holy hell” feeling regularly. This too shall pass.
4. moo | March 11th, 2008 at 5:52 am
4 am does funny things to you.
I should know, my kid is often up at that time, ready to party.
It’ll get easier. I would LOVE to live in Vermont. Am v. jealous of you. Comfort yourself with that.
5. H | March 11th, 2008 at 6:19 am
Salmonella can jump from one egg to another? Really? Is it like a virus and it can pass through the air? Is it the touching of the shells?
6. jonniker | March 11th, 2008 at 7:05 am
H, I don’t know if the germs JUMP, per se through the air. I think in C’s case it was that when the (tainted, leaky) egg was placed in the carton, it got some schmutz on the non-tainted egg and I … I don’t know. There’s also the possibility that there was transference due to unsanitary conditions (CONDITIONS I TOTALLY PLAN ON PREVENTING WITH MY VIGILANCE) and (oh my God) lack of … handwashing? I’ll ask him.
7. Regina | March 11th, 2008 at 7:14 am
Ok would i be a TOTAL dork if i just NOW realized that your titles are in fact song titles and not only that you give the artist at the end! yeah i thought so, i am such a super dork and now you and everyone else knows it!
And i have the opposite problem i awake every night in hopes that i am somewhere else and that where i am was just some awful dream sequence like in Dallas ( the show) , but nope still here stuck in the bad dream sequence!
8. anne | March 11th, 2008 at 7:20 am
I meant to give you a congratulations on finding a renter? Was it through Craigs list?
9. Andrea | March 11th, 2008 at 7:31 am
Sometimes I feel I’ve got to [dun dun] run away, I’ve got to [dun dun] get away …
… from ever eating eggs again. Not hard, since I’m slowly getting back into that whole vegan thing I started last year before I found out I was pregnant.
Hey, your 4 am is my 3 am, which sometimes I’m up with the baby, though not very often in the last couple weeks. I’ll see sometime if you’re on the interwebs and give a shout out. Or not, because usually instead of traipsing down to the computer which I know will keep me up for the next hour, I try to find a way for Anna to lay on my chest and I can recline comfortably and maybe gently snooze while she snorfles and coos in baby abandon. Though she’s been sleeping from about 10 pm through 5 am for a little bit now, so maybe my meeting up with 3 am is becoming a thing of the past.
However, waking up at the same time in the wee hours for nights in a row always creeps me out a la Amityville style when the father keeps waking up at 2:41 am because that’s when the kid in the house’s previous family started shooting his siblings.
10. claire | March 11th, 2008 at 7:50 am
Dude. I made eggs for dinner last night (i don’t get up early enough to be able to make them for breakfast – i’m a breakfast for dinner kind of girl. whatevs).
I am so disgusted right now, oh my god. SALMONELLA JUMPS IN THE AIR.
I’ve got to go look this up now.
11. jonniker | March 11th, 2008 at 7:56 am
Claire, I really think it was cross-contamination, not AIR JUMPING. Oh my God, someone from some egg council is going to have me arrested for misrepresenting eggs and causing people to eschew egg products.
Add to this the fact that I’m allergic to eggs and people are going to think I have some kind of EGG VENDETTA.
12. H | March 11th, 2008 at 8:09 am
I get it now.
It is always the leaky egg causing problems, isn’t it?
13. -R- | March 11th, 2008 at 8:14 am
Before H and I lived together, I would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night at his house not knowing where I was. I slept near the wall at his house, unlike at my own place, and I would sometimes slam my head into the wall on accident and wake H up. Awesome.
14. Shelly | March 11th, 2008 at 8:17 am
Ok, I’m a dork too….I always got the END of your post being music artists, but I just figured you were just listening to them while posting or somethingl.
Ok, I’ll go through my day feeling particularly dorkish and worried about the fact I eat my eggs with the middle runny—whites MUST be completely cooked, however………..
15. Jennifer | March 11th, 2008 at 9:07 am
Whenever I see/hear “Tainted Love” anymore I always transport back to that Levi’s ER commercial, remember that?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Ne4X6ucn_Q
Am loving your “moving to new town” stories. I do that same “first night in a hotel room thing” all the time. Definitely in the hotel rooms, but then even when I’m back in my own house.
16. amanda | March 11th, 2008 at 9:37 am
I have a close friend with a boyfriend almost 30 years older than her. I’m always curious about how she deals with him having old man parts. (old man butt & such). I don’t dare ask. But maybe one night I’ll get real tanked and ask.
17. jonniker | March 11th, 2008 at 9:43 am
Amanda, older than me doesn’t bother me generally, until you hit approximately 40 years older than me. I think my line would be 70s, as I mentioned, though I don’t know why. That’s fairly arbitrary.
18. Lara | March 11th, 2008 at 12:58 pm
Wait. What? Where the hell have I been? You live in Vermont now? Damn, I’m behind in my reading. BLoglines tells me I am 27 posts behind. Whoops.
19. Debbie in the UK | March 11th, 2008 at 1:30 pm
Jonna, face it…you don’t like change and do not adapt well. It will take you time. I am exactly the same.
20. jonniker | March 11th, 2008 at 1:33 pm
Debbie: Nope. I never have. I’m a stability girl, even if what’s stable sucks. How … absurd of me, really, I guess is the word. I never liked that about myself. It’s a Capricorn thing, so I’m told.
21. ie | March 11th, 2008 at 3:08 pm
GAH! My ex-boss said MUTE every single freaking time. I literally had to bite my tongue not to correct her, because she was a bad-ass and would have kicked me in the teeth if I said she was wrong about something. But she totally looked so stupid doing it. Ha!
You crack me up, woman! OMFB indeed. And piggy hands. lolol
22. Melissa | March 11th, 2008 at 6:01 pm
Jesus, woman. This post was hilarious. So many things I feel strongly about (tainted eggs, flabby butts), yet I never envisioned them coming together so seamlessly.
1. Absolutely right about the OMFB. With proper time-elapsing, there can’t be such shock. It’s the ass you’ve always loved, simply older. Since you’ll see it sink in tiny tiny increments over the years, you’ll be immune when one day you realize you love the 75-year-old ass because of the man it’s attached to.
2. Tainted eggs. Oh. Tainted eggs. My husband may hate me a little for making him smell anything I think is slightly off-kilter. What’s stupid about it is that by the time it’s iffy enough to ask someone else to evaluate, that shit is garbage. Even if they think it’s fine, I’m going to say, “Hmm. Well, it will be safer here,” and toss it in the trash.
P.S. Love the map pin visual.
P.P.S. Moot. Please, person-I-won’t-name-because-you-hold-my-job-in-your-hands, it’s “moot”, not “mute”.
23. Kristi | March 11th, 2008 at 8:40 pm
I lurk – it’s mostly what I do. Thank you for that PSA on MOOT vs MUTE! At more than one point in my career I’m quite sure I’ve made someone cry over my tirades of that exact topic. You rock.
24. moose in vermont&hellip | April 12th, 2008 at 7:46 am
[...] time of year moose are particularly …http://www.wcax.com/Global/story.asp?S=8149543&nav=4QcSTainted Love You know when you??re in a hotel room ?? say, on a vacation for the first night, or visiting family [...]
Leave a Comment
Some HTML allowed:
<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>
Trackback this post | Subscribe to the comments via RSS Feed