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Tag Archives: laundromat

Boris and Bela Could Not Help Me

Oh, Boris, please don’t rub it in!

That shot is from the movie The Black Cat, starring Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff. I recently saw it, on a DVR’d episode of Svengoolie. I started writing a blog post about it but was unable to complete it.

So here I am, typing (pecking on my Tablet with the stylus, really) during commercials while watching Dateline (she totally did it!). It surely is Tired Tuesday (and I’ll call you Shirley if I feel like it).

One reason I am tired is that I went to the laundromat after work. I inadvisedly decided to bring my laundry home to dry, since my drier survives. It would have been fine if it was one normal load. It was more. My drier has been at it for nearly three hours now. Lugging the wet laundry home and downstairs to the drier was not much fun either.

But just listen to me whine. What a big baby! Never mind. I’m too tired to go back and edit it to sound more cheerful. I’ll just have to look bad. We’ll see what I look like on Wuss-out Wednesday. As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.

Lame Laundry Observations

Even though the days blur one into the next, I cling to my Lame Friday Post.  For one reason, at least today I have an excuse.

Today I made a number of random observations, because I was sitting in my car outside the local laundromat, where I was washing towels and comforters.  The comforters needed a larger machine than mine, and the towels needed hot water, which my machine is not fond of.  I was writing a letter to a friend, and what better to write about than my fellow laundromat patrons.

I dubbed one guy Drew Carey, because he was heavy-set, had a crew cut, and wore geeky glasses.  He folded his laundry on the premises, which I know other laundramats frown upon, seemed to be doing his entire wardrobe,  and pulled his mask down under his chin.  I felt sympathetic regarding the middle observation, about the entire wardrobe, because I, too, used to wait until I was out of clean underwear.  Full disclosure:  sometimes I bought new.

Another observation was of a guy who I used to work with (no names!).  He did not wear a mask.  I always thought he was a big fat jerk.  But I try not to judge.

I noticed a lady with a long grey braid carrying in sheets of the same pattern I was washing.  A young-ish man (meaning he looked younger than me, at least) kept pulling his sweatpants up as he made trips between his pick-up truck and the laundramat.

My snarky comments continued, but the friend I was writing to might read my blog post, and I don’t like to spoil things for her.  Additionally, I see I am approaching 300 words,  so I hope that is sufficient for Lame Post Friday.  I hope to see you all on Saturday, whatever sort of post it turns out to be.

 

Overwhelming Temptation

I am going to have a Wuss-out Wednesday and I am not going to apologize.  Maybe I will apologize.  Or maybe it will be too much trouble even to do that.

Oh, quit playing that imaginary violin.  Like you never got tired at the end of a long day!  Get over yourself!  Or don’t get over yourself.  I am trying to avoid telling other people what to do, although one must admit, sometimes the temptation to do so is overwhelming.

I  worked a ten-hour day today, and it was one of those days where the tenth hour was tacked on at the end.  Why is it that so much more tiring than going in two hours instead of one hour early?  That may be a good question for some half-baked philosophy on Lame Post Friday.  Will I even make it to Friday?  I suppose there is no reason to fear I will not, but the temptation to express myself dramatically is sometimes overwhelming.

Leaving work an hour later than usual, I nonetheless headed to the laundromat, something of a nemesis to me these days.  Perhaps I could have gone out and bought new underwear, but I was running out of clean everything else as well.  I started late enough that I was not finished when Steven got home from work.  He called me on my cell phone then drove to Ilion to join me.

Naturally the temptation to send out for food was overwhelming.  Steven called Sorrento’s, which is right across the street from the laundromat.  Unfortunately, we were done folding and our food was going to be 45 minutes.  Now what?  Sorrento’s does not have a bar where we could sit and have a drink while we waited.

“There’s Crossway’s Tavern,” I suggested, not thinking Steven would go for it.  Steven went for it.

As we sat at the bar at Crossways, I said I would write a blog post about it.  However, now that we are home, in our comfy clothes and have eaten,  all I really want to write is a Wuss-out Wednesday.  The temptation to do so is, as you might guess, overwhelming.

 

I Haven’t Even Mentioned What I’m Wearing

Goodness, do I ever wait till this late on a Saturday to make my blog post?  I suppose sometimes I do, but those are the days I am at this point gearing up for an evening of relaxing at my house with my husband and dog.  It is my favorite way to spend a Saturday or almost any evening.  However, this evening, adventure beckons.

 

A month or two ago, we went to dinner with friends, then a show atIlion Little Theatre, then for drinks afterward (I may have written a blog post about it) (I just checked: two, in fact).  It was such a delightful evening that when the final show of the season came around, one of the people involved (believe it or not, it wasn’t me) suggested we do it again.  Naturally Steven and I jumped on board.

 

Knowing this was happening, why did I not make my blog post earlier?  That is a good question.  Well, I was kind of busy.  I went to the laundromat and worked on my novel.  By “worked on my novel,” I mean I wrote my sister the novelist a letter lamenting my plot problems (which passed the time nicely at the laundromat), then sat at home, staring at pages of novel and notes, thinking, “What the hell am I going to do with this?”

 

I finally began to write one of those back cover blurbs, to try to get an overview of the thing.  I think it was helpful.   Tomorrow I will look at it again and try, try, try to figure out what to do next.  Maybe I’ll call the novelist sister and get her advice.  Or maybe that will be another stalling tactic.

 

In any case, I must leave soon for tonight’s adventure.  I had meant to write a really fast, three sentence post, then try to do an unprecedented second post later tonight.  However, I think this one can count.  See you on Wrist to Forehead Sunday.

 

As the Laundry Turns

My usual plan when I’m going away for the weekend is to write blog posts ahead.  WordPress even has a handy function whereby I can set the posts to Publish at an appropriate future time.

 

You know what, I can just hear somebody carping now (or is it karping?  Carping looks too much like carpe diem, which is not the same thing):  “I thought the point of the blog was to write every day.  If you write blog posts ahead, you are not writing every day now, are you?”

 

Oh, shut up (I explain) (that’s an S.J. Perelman joke).  I’ll still write every day.  I just won’t necessarily write a blog post.  After all, this blog is not the only thing I write.  Besides, SOME readers LIKE to see a post from me every day.  I can’t let them down, can I?  Of course I could, perhaps sometimes I do, but I try not to.

 

I wrote the above when I was sitting in the laundromat Wednesday, wishing to high heaven that somebody had left a magazine lying around.  Once I found a trashy paperback in the laundromat.  That was sweet.  It was somehow a randomly found paperback was a more engrossing read than any number of books I have purchased or selected at the library.

 

No such rescue awaited me on Wednesday.  I sat there with my notebook, attempting to write my novel, a letter, my play, a blog post, ANYTHING.  It was no good.  However, I see that the silliness I did manage is over 200 words.  I call that a blog post, and quite appropriate for Non-Sequitur Thursday.  But whatever will  I do on Lame Post Friday?  Stay tuned, we’ll find out together.

 

Coming Soon?

Today’s post is either an unsubstantiated rumor or a news scoop. I’m a little hesitant to share, but the people involved did not say it was a secret…

My husband and I were in the Colonial Laundromat in Ilion, NY, doing our laundry. Next door to the laundromat, in the same building, is a storefront. It used to house the Crave Bakeshop but lately has been empty. Today a gentleman came to look at it. The gentleman works for Jreck Subs.

I LOVE Jreck Subs! I used to eat at Jreck Subs in Potsdam and Massena, NY years ago when I lived up north. Yum! I expressed great enthusiasm at the idea of a Jreck’s in Ilion, especially one I can so easily get to while I am doing laundry. How much better would that make my laundry experience!

Full disclosure: I did not ask the gentleman for any particulars. I did not even ask him if it was OK if I mentioned it in my blog. I wondered if I should put it in my blog. Would I get in trouble? Would the unexpected publicity sour the deal? I thought if that was the case, surely the guy would have been more circumspect, especially when I was expressing my love of Jreck’s.

What really convinced me to go with this topic, though, was that I had not written anything for the blog all day (I was still working on the banana play I mentioned yesterday). I thought, this will work. I don’t think I even have to call it a Wuss-out Wednesday.

But let’s all keep good thoughts for Jreck Subs coming to a storefront near me.

As Truman Capote Said, “That’s Not Writing, That’s Typing”

It hasn’t been a month since I took a blogger’s sick day. Sorry, but I’m taking one now. However, since today can’t be the day I don’t make a blog post, I’m going to try to think of a few words to type in and I’ll hit publish.

I’ve really been quite blessed lately in suffering from fewer headaches than previously. And I am blessed in that I managed to put in a full day’s work (at least I spent the allotted amount of time at my place of employment, if you really want to be a stickler about these things) (and I know some of you do), and I got my laundry done, even folded. Perhaps not folded neatly, but what miracles of housekeeping do you want from me (this is a rhetorical question)? So much for looking on the bright side.

I have a great number of Mohawk Valley adventures planned for the next couple of days. So I should feel grateful I had the headache today, when I only planned to go to the laundromat. Here is a chance for some half-baked philosophy: is a hated chore made substantially worse by a migraine or is it under the heading As Long As It Sucks, Might As Well Really Suck? Discuss amongst yourselves.

As some of my more unkind readers are saying, “Speaking of sucking, this post…” I realize I am over 200 words. I can hit Publish and go back to nursing my head. Hope to see you on Lame Post Friday.

Another Fine Blog Post

Oh, I’m a bad blogger. I say it in a Lou Costello voice. At least, I don’t recall Costello ever saying that in any of the movies, but cartoon versions of him always found an opportunity to say, “Oh, I’m a bad boy.” I was never a huge Abbot and Costello fan to begin with. I prefer Laurel and Hardy (This is another fine mess you’ve gotten me into!).

As you may have guessed, this is another Wuss-out Wednesday. I had thought to have a Mid-Week Middle-aged Musing, but it got no further than the first two sentences: Discombobulate is a good word. I declare discombobulate to be the word of the day.

I wrote those two sentences while at work today, thinking I should not wuss out for at least one Wednesday. But I could not think of anything to add. I thought, “That’s OK. Steven and I are doing laundry tonight. I’ll write at the laundromat.” That did not work out as well as I had hoped. I had a dreadful sinus headache. I could not write a blog post. I could not work on my novel. I did manage to finish a poem I had started, about a couple of co-workers. I can’t share that here, though, because it names names.

I’m afraid today is veering beyond Wuss-out Wednesday and into Blogger’s Sick Day. The thing I feel bad about now is the title. I thought of it when I made the parenthetical comment referencing Laurel and Hardy. I thought better words would surely be forthcoming after that. It turns out not so much. I guess that’s what I get for composing at the keyboard.

I Want to Watch World’s Dumbest!

It is a sad thing to be Tired on Tuesday when you are pretty sure you are going to Wuss-out on Wednesday. And yet, here I am.

As usual, I knew this would happen. I knew I should write a blog post while at work today. But there were cryptogram puzzles to solve and husbands to call (OK, just one husband; I thought it would be more symmetrical to make it plural) (I did solve more than one cryptogram puzzle). That’s OK, I thought. We planned to go to the laundromat after work. I can always write at the laundromat.

At the laundromat, after putting our clothes in the washer and bringing the detergent and bleach back out to the SUV, I sat down with my notebook. I opened it to the next blank page. I wrote the date. And I sat there. Oh yeah, I can’t always write at the laundromat.

Steven discovered some People magazine. No, no, I had to write. I looked at the notebook. I read the magazine. Actually, I mostly paged through it and looked at some of the pictures. I don’t know most of the current celebrities. I am so not mainstream.

I tried again after we got the clothes into the drier. Still no luck. This time I read The New Yorker. I felt pretty classy till I realized I wasn’t finishing any of the articles I started. I gave up and paged through looking at the cartoons. And I thought I was an intellectual.

Eventually we finished the burdensome chore and came home. I had sensibly put some stuff in the crock pot, so dinner was forthcoming. I can usually write better after a good meal.

As you can see, not so much. So here is today’s post, about not being able to write a post. I don’t promise a better post for tomorrow, but we can hope. I’m going to watch television and knit till bedtime.

My Interrupted Kiss

So there I was, on a break at work, writing on my novel. I’ve been having the darnedest time lately coming up with scenes to write. At last I just started something. As sometimes happens (and it’s GREAT when it does), I went on from there.

OF COURSE the Get Back to Work buzzer sounded just when it was starting to get good. Two characters were right in the middle of a kiss (no, it’s not a sex book; don’t get your hopes up) (you know who you are). I don’t write books about thinly disguised versions of myself and others, but I felt rather as if it was my lips that had been interrupted.

Naturally I went back to work, however ill-used I felt to be doing so. One must keep one’s job, after all (if anyone says, “Don’t quit your day job,” I’ll scream. I HATE that joke) (EEEEEEEE! I just knew somebody was going to). I suppose it’s just as well. I was not at all sure how I wanted that scene to progress.

On subsequent breaks I managed a few more sentences. Then a few more after work at the laundromat, where I am now, as I write this. As you may have guessed, the scene ceased to progress.

It raises the writerly question: if I had been able to continue instead of being interrupted the first time, would the scene have progressed differently? As I said, I was not sure how I wanted the scene to go, but if I had kept writing, maybe I would have figured it out. I guess we’ll never know.

Does it matter? Perhaps not. But I thought it might be something to write a blog post about on Wuss-out Wednesday.