Thursday, July 14, 2011


Whenever I clean house, I need other distractions. While some may be able to focus on the task at hand, I need something to make me forget that I'm doing something incredibly boring. And that I'm not doing something redundant (because, seriously, it's going to be dirty the next day anyway).

During my room and the living room, I watch Netflix. However, it had to be shows that I've already seen, due to the fact that when I see something new, I have to pay attention to what's going on. I can't stand not understanding what happened. I refuse to watch a show I've never seen midway through (unless it's something pointless, like reality television). It's like reading the last page of a good book.

It's almost ironic that I enjoy Quentin Tarantino.

However, I can't enjoy movies in the kitchen. The television is too small if I'm far away, and there's nothing ever on the movie channels (I can't stand commercials, either).

That's when I remembered that Dish had CD channels.

Now, I'm also going to say I don't enjoy radio stations (I used to be a small-time DJ at school, but it wasn't anything to write home about--fun, but no one listened to me, I'm sure). I don't like the same music is played over and over again. I usually enjoy the CD channels on Dish because they play the songs people forget.

I was clicking through the channels, trying to catch my ear on something interesting when music that I would only hear while in a garden party at an Icelander's house (true story) came on.

Martini Time.

That's the name of the channel.

Pure genius.

I can't quite explain the exhilaration of washing dishes to this music. It's like I'm in a pastel dress, my hair up in a smooth bun, serving margaritas when I'm really elbow deep in sudsy water.

There's just something fun and slightly romantic cleaning to Frank Sinatra and Keely Smith sing Nothing in Common. Or hearing Bobby Darin croon Call Me Irresponsible.

Cleaning as never felt so sexy. As domestic as it sounds.

Fun Fact: My Iceland friend claims to be the best Elvis impersonator. When we went to Las Vegas, we only ran into one impersonator at a wedding chapel--sadly, the Icelander won.

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