My folks are visiting this weekend and we are stoked. Stoked to have
our first visitors. Stoked to spend time with them. Stoked to show 'em
our new digs, our hood, the zoo, the playground, the Fertile Underground
... basically, to share our new life. We're stoked that we'll finally
have a chance to enjoy a 200$ meal at one of the neighborhood eateries.
Yeah. I know. Why don't we just take the lil' man out to eat with us?
Well, because we don't want to just eat—we want to enjoy every last
bite. We're stoked to have a little help and whatever break that may
entail. But we are really stoked that we're getting our fucking cheese
grater back.
We were reluctant to move into a furnished
home. But, the 'hood felt right. The people felt right. The yard felt
right. Quite frankly, it was the only place we looked at that felt like
home. How bad could living with objects belonging to someone else be?
Knowing
we were moving into an already full house, we purged our home in Maine.
We donated all the duplicate, unnecessary, and useless objects to the
thrift store. A process that delighted me, but stressed out the wifey.
Some people have an easier time answering the question, "What can/can't I
live with out?" I won't lie, it was an intense, mystifying purge. I
consider myself a fairly minimal and thoughtful purchaser of goods, so
this purge troubled me. How did we acquire all of this shit? Why did we
acquire all of this shit? Where did all of this shit come from? Who did
it come from? Am I more American than I think?
We
rented the smallest UHaul truck and packed it (sort of) full of
essentials: art, crib, computer, bed, clothing, cookbooks, gourmet
pantry items, toddler necessities, our favorite kitchen gadgets, Le
Creuset cookware, Wustof knives, and our tooth brushes. I felt light. I
felt free. I felt glorious. We have only what we need. Nothing more.
Nothing less. I believe that I reached my own personal nirvana.
And
it's a good thing that we purged and brought very little with us. We
tried to unpack ... This house was SO FULL OF SHIT that there wasn't
room for our tooth brushes. After packing up and cleaning our house, we
spent two days packing up and cleaning this house. It sucked! It really
irritated me. How could these fucking people ..... I composed myself and
we made room for our things.
Needless to say, there
wasn't much time for cooking dinner those first two nights. But on the
third night, oh yes, it was time. Feeling inspired by our surroundings, I
decided that Mexican cuisine was the obvious choice. I picked up some
fresh ingredients from a produce vendor a block away. Went home and
started prepping. I coated the boneless thighs just as Rick Bayless
would. I made some guacamole topped with thinly sliced radishes. Now I
just need a cheese grater for the cabbage and cheese. I started looking.
Hmmmm. Can't seem to find one. My casual look turned into a monstrous
romp through the cupboards. How the fuck can someone have an 800$
espresso machine, three complete sets of dishes, a six burner stove, 4
sets of glassware, silverware falling out of the drawers, a ridiculous
selection of kitchen gadgets NOT HAVE A FUCKING CHEESE GRATER? This is
ridiculous! I composed myself and finished making dinner.
So,
for three weeks we've been living without a cheese grater. It's been a
dramatized hell. You might ask, "Why didn't you just buy shredded
cheese?" My answer is, because it sucks. Also, the grater is more
utilitarian in our household. "Well, why didn't you just buy another
cheese grater?" Because we just purged our life and there's no fucking
way I'm gonna complicate it with a second cheese grater.
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