Every woman is in some small way attached to her hairdryer. Of course, that could just be me, but there's a reason why we cart our own hefty piece of mobile air on trips - hesitant to place our hair into the hands of a cheap, quickly manufactured hotel hairdryer.
Of course, today, I fell in love with my own just a little bit more. This realization hit me while I was kneeling on my bathroom floor, aiming my blue hairdryer at my large Robert Doisneau print that usually resides above my bed.
To back up...
Reno has been in the midst of quite the snow storm today. So crazy that, as I peeked out my front window to check conditions (it started snowing yesterday early evening), I saw a firetruck and an ambulance a mere 50 feet from my staircase. In snow chains. In about a foot and a half of snow (I would have taken pictures, but my phone is at memory capacity and won't let me save them...). Needless to say, without chains, I was not confident in my ability to schlepp across town, and stayed home to work.
It was a gorgeous work day - blindlingly white, unceasingly precipitous, but gorgeous. And despite some writer's block on a certain email, the day went pretty well. With one of my favorite candles lit, the thermostat at 69-70, a fabulous breakfast burrito, and whatever noise in the background I felt like, I thoroughly enjoyed the way the world seemed to push pause outside. I even took a break around 2:30 to take a walk outside in the white (trekking back in about 20 minutes later with semi-permanent red cheeks and ice blocks for ears).
My second break came after I finished pulling a round of prospecting lists - feeling quite ambitious, I opted to rotate my mattress (I don't have the best mattress, so I typically rotate every few months - don't judge). I stripped my comforter and sheets and set about the slow but less-exhausting-than-flipping-it-by-myself method of pushing and pulling it into its new position. Which, in hindsight, may have not been a good idea, given the burning candle on top of my headboard.
In college, they strictly prohibited the use of candles, fearing the ease with which that flame could lick right through the cardboard-like dorm furniture provided in each room. The No Candles mantra includedg incense and candle warmers... which was fine. And the first apartment away from campus I lived in became the poor victim of a woman gone crazy with the candles collected from gifts over the years, confident in her ability to use candles appropriately. As it turns out, even a woman several years out of college can misuse candles. Because as soon as I gave the mattress a big push, it rammed into the precarious headboard, jarring the big Robert Doisneau print that leans ever so delicately against the wall, sending it tumbling over a stack of books, pictures, and (in case I didn't mention it) the candle that had been burning since 9 a.m. What once was a pool of melted wax became a waterfall cleaning nightmares are made of as I watched helplessly, ducking my head as it splashed onto the box spring, the carpet, the headboard, my new purse, my mattress pad, my dresser, and the picture. Did I mention the carpet?
After a few frustrated swipes with a hot towel on my headboard and dresser, and some harried scraping with a knife - not so fun/easy - I resorted to Google, asking how the heck do you get wax out of your carpet!? Because, as much as I love periwinkle blue that smells like rain, I don't necessarily prefer it in my carpet. The answer? A hairdryer. And as I knelt in front of the large picture leaning against my bathroom door, I fell in love with that piece of feminine machinery once again. A quick shot of dedicated hot air and a towel swipe later, it was like a brand new piece of art. I felt a bit like a restoration artist... I knew the sheer joy that comes from removing an obstruction in order to see the original beauty underneath. Yeah. I know. It's small. But hey - I will take my kicks where I can get them these days.
And now that I've shuffled as much down to the laundry as possible and cleaned as much splotchy wax as is visible (and made a killer dinner burrito - which is truly saying something, since I'm devoid of domestic cooking skills), I'm going to get back to work.
P.S. I think it's finally stopped snowing...
0 comments:
Post a Comment