September 2, 2008

Crusoe Went Crazy, So Why Can't I?

September ain't been too kind to me yet...

I woke up this morning to a flooded kitchen. After my water heater hose busted, lukewarm water rained down on my Moody Kitchen for God knows how many hours before I woke and dumbly thought, "Wow! There must be a beautiful storm pouring down on this fair town!" The water gushing from the hose did, after all, sound like a steady coastal shower.

When I looked out my bedroom window and saw nothing but dry streets, I thought I had finally lost it.

I turned from the window and followed the sound of the waterfall. At this point, I was scared, but also exhilarated: I'm going crazy, and I know I'm going crazy! Like, I'm totally aware that I'm looking for a waterfall in my own house! I always thought that I would be one of those women who would gradually go a little crazy without knowing it, you know? Never did I think the crazies would inhabit my brain overnight, and I certainly didn't think I'd be aware of them when they did arrive!

When I finally do lose my mind, I hope it feels like this morning: an aimless stroll into my kitchen-jungle with the sound of a magical waterfall guiding my every step. I felt like Robinson Crusoe, except I'm not a shipwrecked mariner who watches all of his shipmates die--I'm a community college teacher. (And unlike Crusoe, I have yet to be theorized by a literary scholar. I'm still waiting for my very own Marxist critic to describe, in clear and mechanical prose, what I mean in this contemporary phallocentric, post-feminist, pro-global, pre-future context. Until this happens, I will remain in that state of Otherhood with other, uh, Others? Maybe I am going crazy...)

When I arrived to the scene of the watery crime, I realized I was not, in fact, going crazy. The hose thingy on the water heater thingy had ruptured. Reality is always so lame and technical and predictable. Where's the freakin' jungle?!

In sum, the Moody Kitchen is out of business for a few days until I get things cleaned up proper-like. This means that, sadly, I will be eating toast and canned soup for a couple of days. Here are my plans, though, for Thursday and/or Friday:

Raspberry-Strawberry cupcakes with mascarpone icing. Maybe I'll find a way to work my week-old red wine into the mix as well.

Since I'll be oven-less (and slightly saner than expected) until the end of the week, I'll see if I can post some food poems or short-short-short food fiction onto the blog. I will also be searching for a Marxist critic who, I'm sure, has much to say about how my water heater symbolizes the aristocracy while I, the cookie-obsessing escapist, am a symbol of the modern (and silenced) milkmaid subculture.

Stay dry and mildly sane!

2 comments:

Hadley Gets Crafty said...

Have you ever heard of Gopis? They were some silenced milkmaids, but they got to make love to Krisna. Maybe that makes it worth it, because it would probably be something like sleeping with a blue Mic Jaggar.

Anyway, bummer about the kitchen. That would have me seriously stressed out!

thisblogsuckz said...

This is sad news. Let's go to Charlie's. Dinner and drinks are on me.

Sigh.