The Last Clean

Title reference: "The Last Page" by Anthony Huso

***

We've had a little disaster on our hands! Last night, Sofocle, our puppy husky, managed to tear down a curtain, spill a whole bottle of wine on the carpet and turn over a chair, although where that little doggy found the strength to do so is still beyond me! Pets, man, they're as unpredictable as humans! Still, as wine spills tend to stain and are some of the hardest to get out... The situation pretty much turned into an emergency! You don't believe? Well, I can tell you right now that the old myth that you can clean red wine stain with white wine, is nothing more than that: a myth. If you try to put it into use, the only thing you would get is a red/white wine stain and getting rid of that one would not only take skills beyond you, but also damage your carpet/furniture/whatever permanently! So, instead of playing "Mr. Cleaner", or which would be worse - letting Tate assume the role! - I did the smart thing and booked an appointment with one of the prime companies for carpet cleaning London has to offer! They'd come later today and fix the problem for us... Yeah, let's hear it for professionals!

Still, even if the carpet cleaning mess is taken care of, there's still the fact that Sofocle is like a natural disaster, waiting to be unleashed upon us and cause as much damages as possible! He breaks things faster than you could say "Hallelujah", chews on everyone's shoes and slippers, howls at night, when you leave him alone... I mean, he's a lovely creature and all, but, man, is he hard to have around sometimes! I've been trying to explain to Tate that huskies are not "in door" animals, but ones that should  be left to freely play around in a yard, but he doesn't seem to get it! Not at all! Actually, he's convinced that Sofocle is the cutest thing in the world and thus can make no wrong in his eyes...

Speaking of Tate...

OK, you probably won't believe me when I tell you this, I could hardly believe it myself, but my o-not-so-smart-buddy pulled a stunt and a shocker on all of us and... Well, on the 2nd of January, when we finally managed to sober up after the New Year's party, Tate did the unthinkable and... Man, I can't believe I'm going to write that! Anyway, here goes nothing!

Tate proposed to Lulu. Yes, you read that right. He did the whole nine yards: falling on one knee, the diamond ring, music, candles... All of it! Now, I strongly suspect that it was his mum who did most of the preparations (she's obsessive like that), but Tate refuses to comment on the matter and even a tickle would not convince him to speak the truth! Which is almost anticlimactic...

But forget about that. Strange or not, it is official people: Tate's getting married! I mean, yeah, they haven't known each-other very long or anything, but come on... Can you picture either of those... charmers, let's call them, finding anyone better than the other? No? Well, so can't I! So I wish them all the happiness in the world...

O, and I'm gonna' be the best-man. Yeah, big surprise here, I know, I know!

And now to the truly shocking part... Something unthinkable happened on New Year's Eve and I'm still not sure how things came to that, and so on, but... Well, you know What-'s-Her-Name-Again, right? Well, it turns out that it's Evelyn (quite lovely, isn't it?) and that, in ways unthinkable to me, she's managed to pull the impossible and, boring or not, get under my skin. I know, I know: when? Why? How? All questions I've been asking myself, dear friends, but the truth is the truth... Even if it's ridiculous!

Did I mention that we kissed? But, I mean, really, really kissed, passionate and all? No? Well, yes, we indeed did, and it was weird, and kind of scary, and... Nice. Yes, it felt nice and somewhat natural. So now I think we're dating...

Though Evie says we've been doing it ever since that first night, even if I didn't realise it!

Women, man. Can't live with them, but also can't live without them! Ah, how poetic Marlowe, how poetic! Anyway, I think that Tate and Lulu are even more exciting about the dating part, then Me and Evelyn are... They want to do double date, all the time! And we're best-man and bride's maid, so...

Yes, that should be some wedding!

Bottom line is, life's moving forward, as a scary pace, and we all have to try and keep up with it. So, that would be the last of me and all my "Stumbling & Rambling"... "All good things" come to an end, right?

So, goodnight, people... and thank you! As one great singer once said...

"You've been a lovely audience."

Out of the Holidays

Title reference: "Out of the Dark" by David Weber

***

Happy New Year, to everyone who may stumble upon this blog or who, for reasons unknown to me, has decided to follow it regularly! (If you're the latter, I'm forever grateful! Tate as well... And he'd say so, if I could dig him out from under the debris of paper cups, plates, food left-overs, forgotten clothes, broken... O, forget it! We've got a mess on our hands, OK?) I'm proud to inform you that our New Year's party was a total success and if we'd invited... I dunno... Lily Allen, or something, we'd have definitely made the news! Or, at least, some second class newspaper... I mean, being in the news is being the news, right? Still, we pulled it off so well, that even when Tate played ABBA's "Happy New Year" no body seemed to mind... Well, I would have, if I wasn't already too out of it to care... Ooh... my head hurts...

Anyway, as I've already pointed out, but will do again just for repetition's sake, no matter how cool a party is, the domestic cleaning which follows is always hell! And how is it fare, if I may ask, that some come, consume and then go, while others are left behind to take care of the mess? Shouldn't there be a law against "abandoning the ship", before it's cleaned and put back in order, or something? I think it's high time the authorities take care of the matter... Ah, forget it!

It's always the same deal, people. Those who offer to host the party, have to deal with the party-leftovers later! The whole "chicken and egg" thing! Ah, Tate turn ABBA off! My head still hurts!

Back on topic, after a particularly vicious headache on the 1st of January, that makes the one tormenting me now seem like a free vacation on the Bahamas, I gathered Tate, Lulu and What-Was-Her-Name-Again and had them roll up their sleeves and get to work, as we really, really needed to put the house in some semblance of an order, before our landlord stopped by to wish us a "Happy New Year"! O, if he only knew what Sofocle (our dog) had done to his curtains... Umm, I didn't say that! I-so-did-not! But if we pretend that I did (for only a second, that is!) I'd have to say that the main reason for me wanting to clean the house so fast was the nagging feeling of guilt over the curtains, nesting in my gut! So we scrubbed, and washed, and rubbed, and... Well, hoovered, or whatever, until we almost passed out of exhaustion, and still there was so much to do...

So much, that even Miss I-Know-All-There-Is-About-Cleaning suggested we took pity on ourselves and called a house cleaning company to come and deal with the mess for us. I mean, they are professionals and would know how to deal with the problems at bay much faster and better then me or Tate, right?

Still, do you know what I found out, when I started calling companies just after the holidays? That, apparently, most of London relies on their services, after all the partying's done and over! They were booked, almost all of them! And it's not like there's just one home cleaning company London has to offer... There's a lot of them! So, either English folk are the laziest ones in the world...

...or our cleaning services are just that good, right? Right?

Tate, for the last time, off with ABBA!

The Red Cleaner Conspiracy

Title reference: "The Red Wolf Conspiracy" by Robert V. S. Redick

***

Me and Tate have been playing Tori Amos' "Happy Workers" the whole day, singing along, while doing (or at least trying to!) some long-postponed domestic cleaning, in order to prepare the house for tomorrow's New Year's Party! To tell you the truth, two hours into the cleaning, I was already feeling really sorry, that we decided to host a party at home, instead of going to someone else's house! I mean, who knew that washing a carpet might be such a tough job?! Or that She-Who-I-Really-Didn't-Want-to-Invite has been right about all the dirtiest places in the house, like the oven and underneath the bed... Geez, do you have any idea how much dust can pile up under a bed?! Or that when you start trying to push the hoover beneath it, it can get stuck and make you pull as hard as possible to take it out? No? Well, apparently it could, and it did! And don't even start me on Tate and his irrational fear that there's a monster living under his bad... Too much Everlast, anyone?

Anyway, by noon I was already considering giving up on cleaning as a whole and simply calling a house cleaning company to come do the dirty job for us, while we head out for pizza and a beer! Then it dawned on me: why bother the professionals, when we can jest play it smart and... Well, let's just say that instead of cleaning the house, we're just going to "mask" it in such a way, that no one would notice the dirt! Unless they looked closely, that is, and come on - who's gonna' expect the carpets for stains, or crawl underneath the beds, when there's gonna' be booze and chicks? O, yes...

Her. Lulu's Hot-but-Cleaning-Obsessed friend. She might do something like that.

Then again, I contemplated with myself, what if I could find a way to distract her, so that she is too busy talking, to actually go looking around the house? What would it take? Enduring yet another one of her "Astounding cleaning facts... " lectures? I could do that! O, if I'm drunk enough I could sit through almost anything... Well, OK, I wouldn't go as far as to say that I could "sit through" any torture, but anything that doesn't involve actual physical crippling... I could do that!

So that was the plan, up till 30 minutes ago. Then Tate's mum called and said she'd stop by tomorrow to help us decorate the house and prepare the food for the party. Very nice of her, but I could swear we both had a panic attack when we heard it! I mean... Tate's mum's like Super Mum, or something! If she sees the house like that, then she'd want to stay and clean it, and... Well, mums and parties. Not a good combination. So we put our heads together, had a short debate and then did the only thing possible in these extreme circumstances. 

We called professional house cleaners. They'd be here in an hour. Time to get that pizza and beer, I guess...

O, Tate says "Happy New Year" in advance! I add my voice: "Happy Future New Year" everyone! Don't spare yourself the drinking...

...and whatever you do, don't put your mum in the same room with your friends! Not a good combination! 

Trust me, I speak from experience!

A Cleaner's Carol

Title reference: "A Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens

***

Christmas parties, and parties in general, have both a good and a bad side. Good side, of course, is that you get to drink a lot of free booze and get stoned, or, if you stay sober, to take pictures, while people embarrass themselves! (Tate has a lot of photos like that... Yeah, no surprise there, huh?) Bad side, on the other hand, is the extensive amount of cleaning that comes after the party. Especially for the unlucky hosts, if their guests choose to simply get up and leave, instead of helping put the mess back in order! I'd call it "anti-climatic", but that's not the right word for it...

Anyway, we had a similar experience after Christmas, when we hosted a big party to which most of our friends showed up... Only they didn't bother to stay and help with the cleaning, come morning! Yeah, to say that I was "really irritated", would be a misunderstanding! Still, I bit my tongue, prodded Tate until he woke up and curled out from under the table, and then did the unthinkable: I called Lulu and What-'s-Her-Name to come and help us with the cleaning! (Apparently, the two had managed to sneak out of the house, sometime last night... Sneaky!)

Luckily, they agreed to come and lend us a hand... And everything would have been just fine, if Lulu's friend hadn't decided to share more of her cleaning knowledge with us! Ah... I think I just came up with a Christmas wish!

Anyway, while picking up things off the ground, She-Who's-So-Boring, shared with us that for most end of tenancy cleaning professionals, like herself, it is not the house cleaning itself that can get bothersome, but what tenants leave behind for the house cleaning company to pick up after them.  Horror stories include live pets, collections of dirty condoms and years worth of old newspapers that had obviously doubled as intimate care products. She even went as far as to point some of her own personal favorites:

One time, while rummaging amongst the dozens of empty wine and champagne bottles that fueled the end of tenancy leaving party the night before, she actually found a living person! (Yeah, imagine that!) Who was he? O, you know... Just a party casualty leftover from the previous evening who was woken up, to his great surprise, only to find that all his mates had left and been replaced by a team of cleaners. The cleaners were kind enough to explain what had happened and send him off in the right direction.

A Florence and the Machine song, "You hit me once, I hit you back" comes to mind, when you hear the 2nd story, She-Who-Knows-All-About-Cleaning told us: a poor professional from an end of tenancy cleaning London company ound a bed that had seemingly been set on fire. Although the flat was otherwise very clean, the guest bed, one of the only remaining pieces of furniture in the flat, had had the sheets burnt off the bed. This particular scenario was complete with smoke stains rising up the headboard and wall. Luckily it had been put out and no one needed to call the fire department, though the next tenant would have been in the market for a new bed.

The last story, which I will share with you, just like it was shared with me is... creepy. But you'll find that one out for yourselves... Right now! You see, it turns out that one time, while deep cleaning the house of an elderly resident who had recently moved into a home, cleaners found a cat in the basement. Not a big deal particularly. Then they found several more cats, without a litter box in sight. Aside from the cleaning itself, they reported that the smell bordered on the unbearable. A bit of pet mess is one thing, but leaving all of your pets in the house when you move out is quite another. The cats had to be packed off to Battersea as the resident was, sadly, unwilling to claim them.

Yep, that one gave me the heebie-jeebies as well! Luckily, our after party cleaning brought nothing like that out into the daylight and in the end we all went for pizza and beer...

Am I wrong, or does that sound like double-dating to you too?!

The Curious Case of the Cleaning Man

Title reference: "The Curious Case of the Clockwork Man" by Mark Hodder

***

"There's nothing wrong with a bit of obsessiveness when it comes to house-cleaning - after all it is a never-ending task and the benefits are obvious - but there is a point beyond which the obsession is no longer healthy."

That's what the local psychologist Dave (or Know-It-All-Dave, as all the neighbours call him) told Hot-But-What's-Her-Name, when she went for an evaluation, in order to determine whether she's developed OCD - Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. What's that, you wonder? Well, from what I could gather, it's a commonly bandied-about term which is often misunderstood but for the ones who do suffer from it, it can become a truly debilitating problem.

Or so Her-Namlessness tells us, while the two of them with Lulu, Tate's girlfriend, are sitting on the couch opposite me and my (slightly gaping) buddy. She seems too shocked by the discovery, for a person who's been talking first and foremost about cleaning, ever since I've met her! Sometimes the way we perceive ourselves, and what people see (or hear!) when they look at us are two completely different thing, huh?

But, and I bet you're wondering as well, what's that disorder all about? Well, here's what "the little birdie (umm... google)" told me, when I asked: OCD refers to people who have invasive thoughts that are hard to control and who perform actions that are repetitive and ritualistic. Common thoughts and behaviour from OCD sufferers often may include an inability to stop thinking about a particular subject or an irresistible desire towards performing repetitive actions. An OCD sufferer may, for instance be unable to stop worrying whether the gas or a faucet was left on or may find themselves washing their hands every few minutes. People with OCD may recognize the futility of such thoughts and actions but are not able to stop them.

Man, that sounds... creepy! Fortunately, as it turns out, there are effective treatments for OCD, and many have found that they were able to overcome the condition through self-help methods, or through counselling. (In Hot-But-Disordered's case, I'd say she should simply quit her job as a maid and get herself a home cleaning company to do the dirty work for her!) Dealing with the problem involves first recognizing it, then redirecting the thoughts and behaviour in other directions and developing an ability to not identify with the intrusive, unwanted thoughts and urges. Medication can help as well, but often accompanying therapy and behaviour modification. 

Two common approaches for treating OCD are Cognitive Therapy and Exposure and Response Prevention therapy. Essentially, the Cognitive Therapy method helps the patient to learn ways to minimize the impact of the overwhelming thoughts and to redirect their behaviour in healthy directions. Exposure and Response prevention focuses on having the OCD sufferer confront his or her fears by stopping the accompanying behaviour patterns associated with the obsessive thoughts, which can help the person slowly lose the urge and begin to recognize that he or she doesn't need the ritual any more.

In other words, if Hotty-But-Crazy-O wants to come to terms with the problem, she should allow someone else to be in charge of the housecleaning, whether it be the normal ongoing cleaning and maintenance or whether it is time for an end of tenancy cleaning, for instance. Just like I thought, actually!

Who's the man now, huh?

Merry Christmas (err... in advance) people!

A Call in Winter

Title reference: "A Betrayal in Winter" by Daniel Abraham

***

Tate's bother Finn (yes, the all have short, compact, 4-letter names) was supposed to fly over to London and stay with us for Christmas, but due to the bad weather and the heavy snowing all over Europe, got stuck on an airport instead, pretty much at the mercy of winter! Ever heard the song "Ice Queen" by Within Temptation? Well, listen carefully to the lyrics and you will notice that the winter season has been acting like said Ice Queen way too much for comfort! People all over the world have been unable to get back home for the holidays, which might have been sad, if it wasn't so tragic! I mean, come on... We (homosapiens) pride ourselves to be on "top of the food chain", but are unable to beat a simple snowfall with all our "amazing" technology? Well, I say we... err... Just follow my line of thought and figure it out on your own, OK?

Anyway, if nothing else, in recent years we've managed to develop one useful technology, technically software, which can help us stay in touch with family and friends abroad, who are having one hell of a Christmas time in an airport, somewhere around the globe! Which is a big step up, I suppose! After all, in the past people were happy with the fast communication system sending e-mails to get in touch with people from all over the world! Today we can talk with anybody from anywhere. But the idea that long distance calls and especially international calls are expensive made the telecommunication providers become more and more competitive, and nowadays they are offering different promotions and plans for cheap international calls to facilitate their consumers.

So, taking advantage of the above said, and having in mind that Finn's actually very good with technology, we were able to "come in contact" (no, there were no aliens!). As a matter of fact, it turned out that both international and local conference calls can be very useful in such situations! However, each one has its own characteristics. Now, let me try to explain them to you... (I wish Finn was here!)

So, when you make a conference call you should dial the exit code of your country, next the country code and finally the recipient’s number. Of course, check the international rates of your provider. Generally, you should be careful when setting the time, the date and the location, which must be confirmed, but in case of emergencies, such as calling people from the snow covered airport... Such formalities could be overlooked, yes?

Anyway, back on topic! One thing, when making a conference call is, you need to do your best and speak clearly and slowly. Finn has a tendency to talks as if he's in a hurry, or someone is chasing him and every next word could be his last, so... It was a bit difficult to follow his side of the conversation! Do you get my point now?

Bottom line is, the international conference call is not that much more complicated than the national one.  And in cases of extreme emergencies it might be the best way for you to get in touch with your closes and dearest, from every possible location!

Yes, Tate, even the good ol' restroom in Gatwick! Geez!

The Sad Tale of the Roomies Grossbart

Title reference: "The Sad Tale of the Brothers Grossbart" by Jesse Bullington

***

See "Bigfoot" on the picture above? (figuratively speaking, of course!) Wanda' what he's looking at so grimly... Wanna' hear my guess? Well, I think he's looking for a job, just like I was a couple of days ago! From Tate's point of view, I must have appeared almost exactly the same. Staring at the monitor. Thinking deeply and seriously. Looking as though any moment now, I might fall asleep... O, wait! I shouldn't have said that last bit! Still, I did better, then when Tate tried searching for a job... He literally fell asleep and didn't wake up for hours! We're still trying to figure out what caused that...

Anyway, back on topic. No more jokes. There's nothing funny about the credit crunch. Many Londoners (myself included) will be taking this year's holiday in such spellbinding destinations as Wetford, Kent and the Cotswolds rather than sunny Spain or the Amalfi Coast.  Not a pleasant thought, but here's something to cheer you up and help you see the brighter side of things! Remember the last fat-cat city banker, that refused to give you a loan to send the kiddo to University? Well, he's probably gone from splashing money on maids and... I don't know... oven cleaning London companies, let's say, to DIY house cleaning in less than a year! If he'd been really unlucky, he might have even become one of the flat cleaning London professionals, he so easily hired and fired not that long ago, himself! Talk about justice in the universe!

Still, it kind of gives you a nice feeling inside, knowing that all of those "big shots" have fallen off their "thrones"... And are now forced to be house-cleaners, who can't even clean their own homes! Wanna' guess the 3 places they most regularly forget to clean?

I'd start!

1. The bottom of the wardrobe. Having no jobs, and thus, no cause for digging through the Savile Row suits and designer dresses lining their closets, unemployed city workers have notoriously dirty clothes wardrobes.  Many report numerous skeletons in these closets getting in the way of their best cleaning efforts: the products of sub-prime lending and too many Dubai deals gone wrong.

2. The refrigerator. Having no money to buy food, the fridges of former city-workers are looking very empty these days. I bet that when they open them and smell the fading scent of French cheese, caviar and a cream soup with Swedish mushrooms, their appetite simple disperses into thin air, followed by a long and depressing night of cheap wine and a trip down "six-figure-pay-check" memory lane!

3. Under the settee cushions. If I have to bet, I'd say that this is probably the cleanest place in ever ex-banker's house! Settees have usually been searched nine, ten, eleven times, hoping to scrounge up enough five-penny pieces for the price of a pint. And, unfortunately, what is found beneath them in most cases is not enough to even buy the poor city boy a decent pine of Guinness in the pub! O, hard is the life of the ex-millionaire...

But for good ol' university boys like myself or Tate, the rich guys' misery is almost a cause for celebration!

Petty, who me?