marriage

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Real Housewife of Park Slope: Happy NOW???

June 15, 2011 in homemaking, housekeeping, Park Slope, Real Housewives | Permalink

Good housekeeping. I’m getting death threats about the precipitous decline in mine.

Can’t my people see that this blogging crap is important and time-consuming? Fine, I haven’t made as much in the last two years as I made working a month at KFC in 9th grade but I’m building something here. You know????

Uh, not so much.

In my capacity as housekeeper and domestic management consultant, I’ve now bought your GD TP and other luxury items (fine, food), I’ve scrubbed your pissed-upon toilet seats (nice aim, boys), I’ve cleaned, mopped, vacuumed and even started defrosting something for dinner. Additionally, I’ve made breakfasts and lunches (and thank you for all the crumbs on the couch). Oh, yeah, I oiled the granite countertop you finally installed after TEN LONNNNNNG YEARS leaning behind the couch and am now moving on to the room-sized clot of unfolded clean clothes.

So, thank you very much and buzz the fuck off, you ungrateful wretches.

Also… where’s my RHOPS? Consider this a casting call.

 

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Honey-Do!!! We Have An Air Conditioner

June 8, 2011 in Local Politics, Park Slope | 5 comments

Even the beast is looking aghast at the sheer unmitigated gall of my taking photos of this blessed event instead of helping.

There is no excuse except… I care about this new blog of mine. I care about YOU two dozen or so people who are taking time out of your busy days to stop here.

Yes, this is perhaps the FIRST time in 20 years that my wish has been my man’s command but, honey, I will never doubt you again. Now, you are going to install it too, right?

And yes, mom, we’re fine, we’re not sweltering, we are cool as cucumbers. No need for undo concern. Or any more concerned calls. We’re good. See above.

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Not Cool: Waiting Until a Fucking HEATWAVE to Buy a New AC

June 8, 2011 in Park Slope | 6 comments

via Gothamist via somebody’s flickr page

I don’t know how I got talked into throwing out the old air conditioner TWO falls ago before I had actually gotten an iron-clad guarantee that there would be a new one in place when the time came. That time is, uh, NOW. And where is my AC? At PC Richard or maybe Drimmer’s priced approximately two hundred bucks more than it was last week.

Yes, I’m the dumbass who heads out to buy an AC on the hottest day of the year. And I have a history. That’s the really sad part. Hell, my man and I once schlepped one home on the fucking 2/3 train circa 1995.

As of now, I’ve gotten as far in this venture as renewing my Consumer Reports online subscription and spending many fruitless hours looking for a perfect picture for this post. And now it’s too late because I’ve got to pick up the kid and it’s all over but for the crying.

I will take this as a lesson that my a) my penchant for poor planning b) ineffectual honey-do list management and c) deeply-engrained sense of denial and entitlement WILL NOT STAND.

 

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