The Smell
The new apartment smells of old people. It's faint, yet persistent, like some nasal version of the tell-tale heart. "Do you smell that?" I kept muttering last night once we finally got settled in after the last boxes found their way home. "Old person. It smells like an old person."
In the 4+ years that Zach and I have been together, he's learned to either nod or ignore most of my superhuman abilities. I hear things that aren't there and smell things I shouldn't. "Is someone making cotton candy?"
"In our building?"
"Well."
"What, you think the circus has come to town and is staying here?"
"Don't you smell that?"
[resigned] "Sure."
"And there! Did you smell that? Cabbage."
"..."
It took 5 hours, a Ghanan, and two of the tiniest movers ever to get all of our stuff out of the high-rise we used to live in and into the new apartments around the corner. (And hi, Tiny #1? Next time, do that at home and not in my bathroom, since we're speaking of smells. Especially since I have to clean in there. Capiche?) Neither Zach nor I are independently wealthy; and we probably spent more than we should have; but I've gotta tell you: movers. All the way. They lift, they load, they unload -- they're brilliant. Plus, I got to pretend that I was Cathy Whitaker (before Dennis Quaid went gay and she started having the emotional affair with the president): "Do be a love and put that futon in the back bedroom...No, the back bedroom. That's ri-- no: further back than that."
Before I put this, my personal nomination for most boring journal entry, to bed, I should mention that at some point between the old apartment and the new I misplaced my copy of The Red and the Black. 'Course, I've got a couple other copies (because, you know, that sickness I have) -- but they have a lot of untranslated French. I'll give it the old college try as far as finding my copy tonight (for the whole one of you who might be waiting pensively to find out what happens to Julien -- who's now some sort of personal secretary for some other guy who I should have paid attention to when he was introduced at the beginning of the novel, only I didn't). If there's no luck, which would suck, since my whole "25 Books in 2006" plan is predicated on a very tight schedule, I'll just move on to book 2.
Oh, and in closing: incense? Scented candles? Anyone got some favorite smells they enjoy? And a way to purchase said smells? Hit me up in the comments section.
In the 4+ years that Zach and I have been together, he's learned to either nod or ignore most of my superhuman abilities. I hear things that aren't there and smell things I shouldn't. "Is someone making cotton candy?"
"In our building?"
"Well."
"What, you think the circus has come to town and is staying here?"
"Don't you smell that?"
[resigned] "Sure."
"And there! Did you smell that? Cabbage."
"..."
It took 5 hours, a Ghanan, and two of the tiniest movers ever to get all of our stuff out of the high-rise we used to live in and into the new apartments around the corner. (And hi, Tiny #1? Next time, do that at home and not in my bathroom, since we're speaking of smells. Especially since I have to clean in there. Capiche?) Neither Zach nor I are independently wealthy; and we probably spent more than we should have; but I've gotta tell you: movers. All the way. They lift, they load, they unload -- they're brilliant. Plus, I got to pretend that I was Cathy Whitaker (before Dennis Quaid went gay and she started having the emotional affair with the president): "Do be a love and put that futon in the back bedroom...No, the back bedroom. That's ri-- no: further back than that."
Before I put this, my personal nomination for most boring journal entry, to bed, I should mention that at some point between the old apartment and the new I misplaced my copy of The Red and the Black. 'Course, I've got a couple other copies (because, you know, that sickness I have) -- but they have a lot of untranslated French. I'll give it the old college try as far as finding my copy tonight (for the whole one of you who might be waiting pensively to find out what happens to Julien -- who's now some sort of personal secretary for some other guy who I should have paid attention to when he was introduced at the beginning of the novel, only I didn't). If there's no luck, which would suck, since my whole "25 Books in 2006" plan is predicated on a very tight schedule, I'll just move on to book 2.
Oh, and in closing: incense? Scented candles? Anyone got some favorite smells they enjoy? And a way to purchase said smells? Hit me up in the comments section.
posted by Mike at 5:08 PM
2 Comments:
Congratulations on the new digs. (See, by using the word "digs" I've magically transformed your apartment into a set of rooms at Oxford. No, no, no... don't thank me.)
As for the smell issue, I feel you. When we moved into the house we've now been renting for more than eight years, it was redolent with cat pee that only I could smell. Cat pee, if possible, smells even worse than old people. I can only begin to imagine the horrific odor of a crazy old cat lady's home.
Here's what I did:
- Opened all the windows and left them that way for a couple of weeks.
- Went to the grocery store and got that carpet powder that you're supposed to sprinkle on your carpeting, let sit, then vacuum up. I used a vacuum-clogging amount and let it sit in the carpet for an hour or so.
- Burned about a thousand sticks of Nag Champa incense in every room. I'm not a big fan of incense, but Nag Champa is at least traditional and therefore less obnoxious than, say, Chemical Vanilla.
- Considered an exorcism.
It either worked or I got used to the smell because we're still here. Let us know how it goes.
Another thing we're trying is cooking lots of savory foods with garlic, onions, and tomatoes.
The carpet powder idea is a good'un. Also keen on the Nag Champa. Acutally, there's a Buddhist temple in DC's Chinatown that has a fantastic incense I'd like to try. Only, I don't know how to go about asking: "Hi, I don't want to join your little group -- I just want to buy your incense. Don't you just love buying things?"
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