Friday, October 21, 2005
i feel sure the germans have a word for it.
i am about to post photos of the kitchen odyssey. i was going to do it as we went along, but it got too messy and too crowded for me to deal. i'm guessing none of you are that excited about this, except for possibly the best one and the one who is least afraid: the former had actually seen the previous tiny gross kitchen and can appreciate the miracle we worked, and the latter is a sucker for projects.
i went home last night to find the kitchen roughed in, the appliances placed. it was so good. i opened the dishwasher over and over again. i was moved. my dishwasher. not mine so much because i paid for it, but mine because i made it happen. the dishwasher is amazing.
and so are the cabinets and the new oven, but somehow the glory is really localized on the dishwasher. this morning i got a glass of water, drank it dry, turned to the monkey with the empty glass and said:
you know where this goes?
and we both laughed like idiots.
the point of this post is not neener i have dishwasher, and it's not congratulate me on the light at the end of the renovation hassle tunnel, it's about the inexplicably powerful feeling i had opening the dishwasher. i know you think i'm exaggerating for comic effect, but i'm pretty much not. i had a new feeling that i don't have a word for, and yes, the situtation i'm describing is a little banal, but: it's not as simple as appliance pride. maybe it's like the best one finally living on her own in new york after a lot of distractions, or like the one who's least afraid crossing off all her major to-dos while still in her twenties. i am making this home with someone, and it is ours right down to we own it. and the part we own most is the kitchen that we drew on scrap paper together last spring. and the part that caused the most upheaval and surprise contractor fees are required the most sticking was this freaking ridiculous abnormally-sized, monopoly-priced under-the-sink dishwasher, but it is here, and for once i didn't just move in to the status quo and deal with the scrubby linoleum and ugly off-white paint because it was easier and it didn't matter. it does matter, and i changed it.
my college roommate often says that i never completely move in anywhere, that there's always one or two boxes and some pictures that don't get hung up. she's right; i have always been like that. but then i moved in with my favorite human being and bought a motherfucking dishwasher, and things are all. different. now.
i went home last night to find the kitchen roughed in, the appliances placed. it was so good. i opened the dishwasher over and over again. i was moved. my dishwasher. not mine so much because i paid for it, but mine because i made it happen. the dishwasher is amazing.
and so are the cabinets and the new oven, but somehow the glory is really localized on the dishwasher. this morning i got a glass of water, drank it dry, turned to the monkey with the empty glass and said:
you know where this goes?
and we both laughed like idiots.
the point of this post is not neener i have dishwasher, and it's not congratulate me on the light at the end of the renovation hassle tunnel, it's about the inexplicably powerful feeling i had opening the dishwasher. i know you think i'm exaggerating for comic effect, but i'm pretty much not. i had a new feeling that i don't have a word for, and yes, the situtation i'm describing is a little banal, but: it's not as simple as appliance pride. maybe it's like the best one finally living on her own in new york after a lot of distractions, or like the one who's least afraid crossing off all her major to-dos while still in her twenties. i am making this home with someone, and it is ours right down to we own it. and the part we own most is the kitchen that we drew on scrap paper together last spring. and the part that caused the most upheaval and surprise contractor fees are required the most sticking was this freaking ridiculous abnormally-sized, monopoly-priced under-the-sink dishwasher, but it is here, and for once i didn't just move in to the status quo and deal with the scrubby linoleum and ugly off-white paint because it was easier and it didn't matter. it does matter, and i changed it.
my college roommate often says that i never completely move in anywhere, that there's always one or two boxes and some pictures that don't get hung up. she's right; i have always been like that. but then i moved in with my favorite human being and bought a motherfucking dishwasher, and things are all. different. now.
