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Polymorphism

metal empathy and other kitchen thoughts

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polymorphism

metal empathy and other kitchen thoughts

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I took the lid off the stovetop to clean it - the areas over the pilot lights [0] were a huge mess (*gets defensive for no good reason*  It's not my mess!  I wouldn't have let it get this bad.  I haven't even cooked on this stove yet [1]!).  It was easier to clean the basin area underneath without the lid, anyway.  I weighed the possibility of setting myself on fire versus the possibility that Soft Scrub + flame-heated metal = invisible toxic gases, and decided to roll up my sleeves and just be careful [2]. 

After letting the metal cool, I set to scrubbing - but only the top of the mess would come off.  Heat, combined with time, have caused the stains to bond with the paint (or whatever the coloring agent is).

I feel so much empathy with that little strip of metal.  How kind of life to provide me with such an evocative metaphor for the effects of stress...

 

How dirty was the kitchen before?  Ask the sponge

*laughs*  This seems like a good aphorism for, oh, say, spin doctors and pr people.  But you have to say the last part in a deep and ominous voice!  It's my aphorism, and I won't let you use it unless you do!

 

That does not smell like I thought it would before I got it wet.  What the hell did I just clean?!?!?

 

Kitchen 22:  I would like to cook, but first I have to clean the kitchen.  By the time I get the kitchen to a state in which cooking is possible, the desire to do so has left me.  By the time the urge comes back, the kitchen is no longer clean...

If only cleaning the kitchen when I did *not* want to cook were the solution that false logic [3] is trying to tell me it is.  Entropy dictates that the kitchen will get dirty, regardless of my desire to cook.  That is, entropy and cohabiting with slobs.  *intones: "Be fair, be fair"*  Amendment: cohabiting with other slobs.

Ahhh... it's only running my brain in silly grooves like this one that allows me to force myself to clean as much as I do (see: not much)!

 

Oops... uh, well, maybe a little bit of invisible toxic gas is actually good for you...

 

Kelly's cousin's girlfriend "other Kelly" is leaving for France this morning.  This exchange struck me as... not funny, really, but... something:

  • other Kelly:         Stay out of trouble!
  • me (ruefully):      I never get *in* trouble! (<confession>: though this has been part of my worldview so long that it rose automatically to my lips, I realized almost immediately that it is no longer strictly true </confession>)
  • other Kelly:         Well, maybe this is the weekend you party! (imitates drunken me) "Gimme that bottle!"
  • me:                    This is the weekend I clean the kitchen.

as I said, this means something...

 

Um, I don't *think* soot facilitates oxidation.  What the hell did I just clean?!?!?

 

 

[0]  Man, I'm going to have to relearn how to cook on a gas stove, aren't I?

[1]  So why am I cleaning if it's not my mess?  Listen, honey, lowest tolerance for mess = highest potential for expenditure of elbow grease.  Anyone who doesn't know that by my age is either a princess, a moron, or far more willing to use her[4] inner bitch to get her way all the time than I am.

[2]  Since I said "was easier", perhaps it can be intuited that I did not in fact go up in flames. 

[3]  Ooh, I forget what that kind of fallacy is called!  And... I can't remember where my logic textbook is!  Darned move!  *googles*  Um... questionable cause?  Yeah, I think that's the one!

[4]  Sorry to all the guys who are the ones with the lower tolerance for mess than the females around them.  Say, the three of you should form a support group!

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