Manning Up

Once Upon A Time, not so long long ago or far far away, well depending on what long ago and far away mean to you, things are so relative nowadays, it kinda kills the story. Nonetheless, there once lived (and still lives) a beautiful and smart, classy and kind, funny and charming, surprisingly single non-princess: Me. In my day to day non-princess life, I find myself constantly in situations that remind me of how difficult single living can really be. These situations range in degree of difficulty and can be anything from watching all the fresh produce in my refrigerator rot away from “cooking for one syndrome” to having to squish a spider – eek! yuck! can’t do it! ew.ew.ew.ew.

There certainly are ups and downs to living alone.

On one hand, I can hang out in my living room wearing silk rubber duckie boxers and a neon pink tank top, drinking milk out of the carton and not feeling bad about eating the last of the cereal or leaving my towel on the bathroom floor or filling the whole house with nail polish fumes on “at home mani/pedi day.” I can watch whatever shows I want and don’t have to worry about someone else hating foreign films or not understanding how cathartic a Sex and the City or 30 Rock marathon can really be. I don’t have to deal with anyone’s scheduling needs or dietary preferences or bodily functions. There is no judgement when I opt to eat ice cream for breakfast or a bowl of limes for dinner. Don’t ask, it was a really weird time for me….I had this thing for limes….but I’m over it….mostly.

However, the Yang to that Ying (or vice versa?) is that I miss out on all the cool parts of sharing your life with someone. I don’t have anyone to steal all the covers from and push to the edge of the bed in the middle of the night, no one is around to take out my garbage for me (trust me, I’ve begged the beagle to do it, he won’t), if a light goes out, I usually wait about three weeks to change it  by myself (which doesn’t make much sense, I know), and there is no one to blame for using all the toilet paper and forgetting to buy more. Living alone is a lot of responsibility! You have to own up to everything. Though, I swear there are little elves that dirty my dishes up when I am at work and leave them scattered around my bedroom, in the bathroom and by the sofa. Seriously, I don’t know why elves would be eating a jar of olives in the bathroom, but there is no other explanation for stuff like that. Must be house elves.

Sometimes I wish I had a man around – like when I have to move something heavy or clean something really gross out of the drain or squirt a hornet with Raid and run away. It would be nice for someone to be here for me when things go bump in the night or the driveway needs to be shoveled or I can’t tell if it is time for me to get new tires yet.

But usually, I do just fine on my own. Or, I improvise. Sure, putting together my own Ikea bookshelf can reduce me to tears and pose a significant threat to my health. But, the bookshelf stands in the end! I might go investigate strange noises in the middle of the night armed only with a flashlight and can of organic soy-based medium hold hairspray – but I’m ready to go down swinging! I’m 26. I take a multivitamin every morning and floss my teeth every night – I know how to take care of myself.

Just the other day, I detailed my own car – sorta. See, I have a Jeep Wrangler and a bad habit of not always keeping the top up/windows closed over night. One night, it rained. Well, it kept raining all week. Even when it wasn’t raining, it was dank as all hell outside. Growing up in Colorado, the battle against mildew is still a new one for me. I don’t even know if mildew is possible in Colorado. Where I come from, if your car gets wet inside, open the windows and drive around for 20 minutes or so – it will dry. However, living in Connecticut, I’ve learned that even your hair can mildew if not thoroughly dried every day. Long story. Buy me a drink before you ask about it.

Even though I’d been driving around in the recent heat wave with the top down and foot heaters blasting on high, I couldn’t get the Jeep to dry out. I was so mad! I thought Jeeps were more hardy than this! Would mine succumb so easily to a little water? I realized I was the only one that could solve my problems. So, Sunday night, I started pulling on the carpets. They came up. The only problem was, I needed to pull the back seat out to fully remove the carpet. I’m going to hazard a guess that the back seat of a Wrangler weighs about 200 lbs. It was freaking hard to pull out of the Jeep! It took me about half an hour and numerous positions which compromised my appendages and maiden modesty, but finally, I ripped it out of the Jeep and set it in the driveway. The carpets were a cinch! But they would need to be washed and dried before I put them back. So, I decided to carry the back seat around the back of the house and drop it off in the basement – no sweat, right? Wrong! Lots of sweat! Lots of sweat and a few tears, but I somehow did it! Like one of those frantically charged mothers lifting a mini-van up to save their child from under the tire, I manhandled that back seat and got it into the basement of my house. I felt strong, capable, kinda like the Hulk. The next day, my arm muscles were sore. But, my mission was complete. I was able to get my Jeep clean and dry, and now, it’s like having a JeepTruck for the rest of the summer, or until I need to put the back seat in again. I also learned that my Jeep was designed for this – there are little plugs all over it, which are now removed and left as drains for any accidental rain drops.

Key “Love is All Around” as exit music.

Signed,

A Modern Mary Tyler Moor – Gunna Make it on My Own!

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About ermodi

i like champagne and nachos. i watch people’s mouths move when they talk to me and judge if they are a good kisser i like to write with fine-tip Sharpies because i think it makes me look confident i bite my nails i think doing the dishes is a very lonely chore i think “autumn” is the prettiest word in the English language. i believe in love – or, at least something that resembles love, but i don’t trust this idea of forever.
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