Tales from the home...

I have nowhere for you to live Oscar

I'm going to let you guys in on a funny little thing that's been going on at home. You see, when Dr. H and I came back from vacation, our apartment, specifically the kitchen, smelled AWFUL. Not just bad... I'm talkin "who the hell pooped in our trash can?" levels of stank. It was appalling. We immediately threw out the nearly empty bag in the can, Febreeze-d the sh*t out of it, opened windows, lit scented candles and hoped for the best. When I came home the next day, I learned that while I was out, Dr. H had made the executive decision to throw away our trash can. "It still smelled. It could not be saved" he said. In it's place was a J. Crew shopping bag because "Bed Bath and Beyond didn't have any good ones and it was college move-in and I couldn't be in there". Oh boy.

Initially annoyed (who lives without a trash can in their kitchen!??) 24-hours into our can-less existence, I started to have a change of heart. We have a TON of folded up shopping bags in our apartment. Trader Joe's, Kate Spade, Banana Republic... I am one of those people who hoards "good" paper bags for unspecified future use. Well, unspecified no more! With a move on the horizon, all my "good" bags likely would have been tossed, BUT, being without a trash can means they can HOLD trash instead of becoming trash! Annnnd, with small capacity and a high potential for leaks, we are taking out the trash almost nightly and generally "trashing" tidier .

Is this a totally disgusting way to exist? Possibly. Are we perfectly content to be that way? Absolutely.

A stinky situation.

Where is a clothes pin when ya need one?

Warning: I'm about to get a bit un-ladylike up in here so if you can't handle a bit of "bathroom talk", time to make a swift exit. 

Still reading? Well, welcome to my stinky space where I need to "air out" my feelings about the public faux pas (x 1,000,000) that I've encountered not once, but twice in the past 10 days... farting in elevators. When you live and work in NYC, elevators are a part of daily life and though we don't usually discuss it, so are farts (books like THIS don't lie). However throwing a fart in an elevator, when there are other riders on board, has got to be one of the worst public offenses around (right up there with spitting gum on the sidewalk). Everyone is in this tiny space all "whooooa that stinks" and trying not to cringe (or laugh, because no matter how old you get, farts are pretty funny) and wondering "did you really have to fart so bad that you couldn't wait 20 seconds?" I mean what's the longest elevator ride you've ever taken? Short of a gastrointestinal emergency (I am willing to concede, they happen) I'm thinking that your emissions can wait to be released until you are in a less confined air space.

HOLY WOW MID-POST REVELATION: As I'm proof-reading this post out loud Dr. H chimes in "sometimes I fart in elevators. I do it on purpose. I want to see people squirm."

I'm speechless.