Tag Archives: Living Together

1950’s housewife vs. Modern woman

It’s been a few more days than normal, I know. And for that, I am sorry. Also, a side of caution, I drove 4 hours today so whatever I say may not make sense or be horribly phrased. Again, sorry.

I am currently finding myself in a bind between being a modern woman and a 1950’s housewife. I don’t like it and I’m not sure what to do about it.

I like cooking and it is always a time where I can just be alone and think. I also am a semi-neat freak. I just like things cleaned, because the flyers and junk that you get in the mail is meant for the trash-not the top of the fireplace, the floor, or the entryway table. Old science magazines, homework articles, xbox remotes, and books are also not meant for the living room floor. So to me, it’s easy. I clean the whole place up and then it looks pretty, just like I want.

But then goes the other side of my brain. I shouldn’t have to clean up after him. I am clean, so I clean my own things up after I make a mess. If you ignore my bedroom that is. That has, and always will be a lost cause. Don’t bother trying to cure that problem.

Anyway, I don’t feel like I should have to clean up after him. It’s not my job, I’m not his mother. He is a grown man who should be able to clean up after himself….but he can’t. And then there is the food issue. I shouldn’t HAVE to make food all of the time. Although I do give him credit that he doesn’t expect me to cook for him or have dinner ready when he gets home.

But I like real food. I don’t eat ramen, as I don’t like it, and other than pasta I am pretty sure this is the only thing he knows how to make. Unless you count grilling something, but I don’t because all he does is throw it on the grill/George Foremen. Can someone teach him how to cook, please?

I know I am not the only one that struggles between wanting to take care of the home/their man and being an independent woman and having them do something. It’s nice to have the option and it being socially acceptable for them to do work, but it makes life confusing.


Mr. Mold

*Warning: I typed this all on my phone, so please don’t hate on any grammar issues.*

As previously mentioned, Fiance had made a mess of the place and l had the pleasure of walking
home to it all. He ended up feeling bad about it, so thankfully he cleaned it all up. While he was
washing dishes I walked into the kitchen to get something to drink and saw him washing the
blender. The bottom was attached and he did a final rinse and went to put it in the drying rack.

“You know that comes apart, right?”
“It what?”
“It comes apart. The bottom screws off.”

He tries to unscrew the bottom and finally gets it.

“OMG I taught you something you didn’t know.”

Needless to say I was really proud of myself. It is not everyday I get to teach him something.
It took him awhile to clean the blender, after he took it apart. Mostly because he has had the
blender for 4 years, so it was really dirty, dark looking, and very crusty.

I tried my best to not look at it.

The following day I decided to make this berry sauce, thanks to 100daysofrealfood.com. So, I
started putting the blender together and guess what I had the pleasure of finding…

Blackishy looking mold. It was super small dots and in the lid. Ya know, the middle piece of the
lid that turns and comes out. That part. So he clearly didn’t even clean that part because it’s super easy to get to.

So I washed it and I made my sauce.

I texted the Fiance about it (don’t worry, in a nice and just asking way) and he never replied.

Big surprise. At least the sauce is yummy!! </h5

How I Posted Something on Facebook That I Usually Roll My Eyes At

As I said in my last entry, I went home this past weekend. I ended up getting sick and having a sinus infection. But, sadly, this is something that I am used to. So I hung out at home on Sunday instead of going back to Cleveland that day, but decided to go the next. All of which Fiancé knew about, or so I thought.

Of course the weather was total crap on Monday; it rained all day. My drive was long, boring, and consisted of me being thankful there wasn’t too much traffic. There is just something about rain while drive that makes everything seem even worse.

I arrive at the condo and Fiancé was still at lab. I only have the house key and not the front door key, so the only way I can get inside is through the backdoor. And what room contains the backdoor? The kitchen, of course. So here I am, still not feeling 100% me and exhausted from a rainy drive, and I walk into the condo.

I was wondering if the condo would be a mess, especially my usually 95% spotless kitchen. And it was.

That’s cool.

There was a dirty pot on the stove, along with a dirty cookie sheet. The blender was pulled out and the washable part in the sink. A mixing bowl was sitting out, as well as an empty popcorn bag (I can only assume the bowl was used for the popcorn). An oven mit, a dirty bowl with a spoon in it, a dirty mug, and an empty hot chocolate packet.

Now, might I just add that everything was on the counter except for the blender, which was in the sink. Please tell me why half of those things weren’t even in the sink? Let alone, why weren’t they in the half EMPTY dishwasher?

I walked out to the living room to then find that he had left the trail mix out and a Chipotle bag with his burrito bowl container sitting on top, from the night before. And the typical guy thing, in the bathroom he didn’t put new TP on the roll. I even have an extra one in there.

I was so pissed. I was sick and just drove all the way here to find this hot mess. So when texting him didn’t make me feel better I turned to Facebook.

I hate when people post their relationship issues or problems on Facebook for the world to see. But I was desperate. I needed the world to be on my side and agree with me that I was not crazy. Thankfully my blogging buddy and friend, gwen, made me feel better about this situation.

Of course he says I didn’t tell him I was coming home that day and he planned on cleaning up that night for when I returned. I am just wondering when exactly he thought I was going to return. He also had told me that he knew I would be pissed upon seeing the place.

He thinks I blew the mess out of proportion and I think not. He knows I am sick and on drugs to get rid of it. I would be upset regardless if I was sick, but that is not what I wanted to walk into when I get home.

He cleaned up his mess that he had created while I was gone and I think he might have had a tiny bit of guilt. Because guess what he did after dinner.

He washed the pans and even put the potatoes in the fridge.

Maybe there is hope after all?