I realized today that I am no longer a vegetarian. Now, I am a “vegetarian except on Wednesday mornings.”
This morning, my student fed me homemade “chicken” sausage. It went like this:
Sofiya: I made sausage, you eat? I made it myself. It has chicken only.
Me: [I am resigned to the fact that there is no way out of this.] Oh, yes, thank you.
Sofiya: Good, good, here, eat.
Me: [I take a bite, chew, swallow, breathe. It does NOT taste like chicken.] This sausage only has chicken in it?
Sofiya: Chicken, da, and pork. Is pork okay? I sorry!
Me: [No! I hate pork, except in bacon form. Giving up thickly sliced bacon was not easy for me.] It’s okay, don’t worry.
It is okay. It has to be. I can’t get out of it without being rude. So, from now on, I am a vegetarian except on Wednesday mornings.
* * * * * * *
I could go on and on about this kind of thing, but the reality is that I very much appreciate our landlady. She’s relaxed. She doesn’t care that we painted our room. She doesn’t care that our rent is almost always a week late. She doesn’t mind that I tore up a corner of the yard to plant my garden. “Tomatoes everywhere! How wonderful!” was her only comment. And when my neighbors got a pig without asking her first, her reaction was: “How cute!”
So while my apartment complex doesn’t have a governing body to predetermine laundry policy, I am actually quite thankful for that. My past experience with a management company was one time too many, and I have since vowed to never do it again. My landlady doesn’t always fix the things that are broken. So what? She gives me freedom, and I appreciate that.
Of course, freedom comes at a price. It means that neighborly conflicts must be settled internally, as reporting them to her becomes a he-said-she-said mess that won’t help anything. If my neighbor wants to hang an obnoxious sign in the laundry room, he has every right to do so, and me complaining to my landlady about it will only cause further problems. It’s not worth it.
Moreover, last night I went over to my neighbor’s place because they were cooking bacon and I wanted to live vicariously—it wasn’t Wednesday morning, after all, so I couldn’t partake but I did inhale deeply. My neighbor with the temper was actually on the phone with our landlady, and they were chatting about her relationship problems. How they have this buddy-buddy relationship, I have no idea, considering that every time she stops by the complex she moans and groans to me about how awful it is that they don’t pick up their pets’ poop. But whatever. The point is that complaining about him will get no one anywhere.
I suppose it doesn’t really matter. The differences in laundry ettiquette have long been forgotten and everyone seems to be getting along just fine. I have chosen to ignore the sign. After all, Scotch tape can’t hold forever and at some point it’s going to “fall” off anyway, right?
Right.
Yes, the sign will one day “fall.” No one’s going to pay attention to it, anyway.
My sister still claims she’s a vegetarian even though she eats pork and sushi. There’s no understanding this.
Lynn
…owned and vaguely operated by one woman
Laura, you have a way with words.
Your complex sounds like a cross between two intriguing political streams of thought: libertarianism and anarchism. With all of the benefits and challenges that come with said ideologies. In short, you live in a kind of social experiment. Which somehow seems appropriate.
Nothing says breakfast like a side of bacon… Mmmmmmm… Crunchy, salty, greasy, yummy…
Did I say “side”, I meant “strip”… but then again is a strip of bacon really enough?
Oh, and more importantly, hope this finds you, Asa and Chelsea well! Positive Vibes!!!
All chicken sausage with pork. That’s nice. Jeez.
Sorry to hear that your landlady is not ammenable to fixing that situation, but I see your point about the hassle and the benefits too.
Yep. Things “fall” all the time. I remember once that a poster of a boat that my ex wanted “fell” off our wall where he’s tacked in it. That thing just plain disappeared.
Glad to hear everyone is getting along better anyway. Now I need bacon and do not have any. I am a vegetarian by default somedays.
Bacon ! BLT !, Grilled Cheese Tomato and Bacon ! ,Bacon wrapped grilled shrimp .
So many possibilities with which to enjoy bacon!!! Prehaps you are becomming
the steak loving niece I remember before you left the nest.
RYC: my sentiments exactly. You read my mind, dear.
The laundry sign is bound to fall. Living situations are so strange, no matter where you are, eh? Definately kick out your roommate and I will move in. Then I, too, can write fantastic blogs about laundry crazies, pot belled pigs, and your landlady’s relationship trials.
I think it’s great that you can take a morning off of being a vegetarian. Good call. I was a veggie for years and then I got convinced to split a reuben sandwich with a coworker. What can I say? I’ve on the meat wagon (albeit infrequently) ever since.
lol. Right. I remember that conversation (the one you linked as “past experiences”) … it was one of the more memorable entries. Sure, this situation doesn’t seem as bad in comparison. In my opinion, putting up with a sign and your neighbor’s particular quirks is not so bad.
However, YELLING at your roomate is. Even if she was RIGHT about the laundry ettiquette (and by the way, seriously what the heck?)…that’s no way to treat another person. I don’t think there’s ever any sort of justification for that kind of disrespect.
As for the vegeterian thing…*shakes her head smiling* I guess as long as it doesn’t bother you it’s okay. Just don’t feel so obliged to not be rude. Eventually she should catch on – I mean…it’s pretty straightforward right? no meat. at all?
Mind you…this reminds me of “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”. When the Fiance told his future mother in law he didn’t eat meat, she gasped in surprise and then said understandingly, “No worries. I cook lamb.”
I was going to share my happiness with the phrase “owned and vaguely operated,” but it looks like TimsHead beat me to it. Oh well — what he said. Way with words.
Oooh, I want to live in a libertarian anarchist commune. Though I would probably kill Tantrum Man in a matter of minutes…
Haha! So true! Glad everything is working out!
ryc: it would be so fun to be a diesel mechanic! i have been wanting to take some auto repair classes, but have hesitated because everything is so computerized these days I wasn’t sure how much I could do. A dream of mine for example is to take an old diesel car and make it run on corn oil. this run-in with mazda is probably going to push me over the edge to take some courses!
RYC: You are on my list. You should be able to see the Friday the 13th post which follows. If you can’t see it, I’ll have to e-mail it to you or something. Xanga can screw up these things.
Lynn
ryc: No I am not from NYC, and I have no idea where that accent came from, but it worked! I knew before you were from NY but I ws thinking of your change in location today after reading your comment and it struck me that you have seen quite a bit of change already in you young life. That has to be wonderful experience for writing.
And as for that teacher, he rolled his eyes at me and looked at the principal and made a disapproving noise. I have no idea why he is in education at all. The majority of teachers actually enjoy children; however, every so often I run into a real jerk. I think it is because I tend to have the troubled kids. They make life harder for some teachers and that is a hump some can’t get over. I guess it’s reasonable in that not everyone can take an “f**k you” as a cry for help right away. Which is why I admire those who choose to teach the emotionally disturbed (ED) kids as that is pretty much how they operate. That guy has never left this city and has never faced the problems within it. He also refuses to accomodate special needs kids. There are those apples in every bunch, sadly.