1. In order to do a cursory toilet cleaning, one must clean not only the inside of the bowl and the toilet seat, but also the top that only boys see.
2. Both baking soda and salt are essential for the baking process. Next time I have some time to kill, I’ll figure out exactly why. Then I’ll make little chemical models of the baking soda, baking powder and salt molecules and act out the different scenarios. It’ll be fun.
3. I like to get drunk and practice my sponge demo on unwitting party guests. Poor Gabe’s seen it fifteen times. Julia and I used to go to co-op parties and call everyone by their first and last names. It was our party trick. Now I give the sponge demo, and Julia rolls her eyes. Oooh, how times have changed.
4. People are amazing. So unfailingly surprising and brilliant and funny. I always assume everything will just keep trucking along, but it doesn’t. Sometimes you don’t get to see someone anymore, hear their voice, their laughter. For whatever reason. And I just hear “I know it’s over – still I cling, I don’t know where else I can go” over and over and over again.
5. My TV doesn’t work.
5 thoughts on “Susie J’s Life Lessons”
yeah, it was even better when we knew application numbers too! sigh.
the weird thing is that it always seems germane that i get caught up in the sponge demo cross-fire, and not gratuitous in the least. every single time i do hear it, i think to myself that if i didn’t already know you and were not therefore predisposed, i’d be totally, perhaps fatally mesmerized by your sponge demo. and at that moment of realization me and my imaginary self (the me who doesn’t know you) intersect, the point of confluence being that neither of us own one of your superciliously sumptuous spill sopping sink scrubbing super sponges.
but i can only fit one or two sponges in my pockets for the ride home; the genius of the deal is that i would get three fucking sponges, plus that other thing you got going on over there. it’s, like, the towel that’s made of sponge or something. i’m not sure the fucker even works–you always wave it around without quite demonstrating it–but i know that i must somehow need one.
i did buy tupperware from you that one time. i keep it in the same cabinet as the glad disposable food storage things my roommates buy, which kind of defeats the purpose i guess. but my point is that you’re as good a huckster as i’ve ever seen–and i’ve been to a county fair or two where i didn’t buy anything at all. not counting things that were fried, i guess.
oh, and re #2: when you get that baking soda thing figured out, don’t keep it to yourself, eh? i’m pretty sure that i’m probably a good cook, but i never really figured out the whole baking thing. got fired as cloyne snack cook once, in fact–Megan Klein and her stupid wanting to make cookies every week, then getting mad because i didn’t do shit to help her even though i don’t fucking know how to make cookies. (seriously: fired as cloyne snack cook. it was a low point, to be sure.) this shortcoming of mine has always been bothersome…a reasonable or even scientific explanation of the baking process would certainly push me down the road of enlightenment–or, at the very least, settle my mind on a few scores.
you should have more dinner parties.
Gabe, you always leave me the best comments on whatever it is that you leave me comments on. I promise to have more dinner parties!
And, Jules, I never knew any application numbers…
your computer’s broke, too, yo.
so’s the VCR.