I Heart Contact Paper

Hey, I'm as surprised as you are that I have developed a fondness for any product involving vinyl. But there's something so satisfying about resurfacing a cabinet shelf with something that's sticky on one side, and shiny and smooth on the other. Mind you, I did not run out and buy this contact/shelving paper, but rescued it from certain demise in the trash heap, from a forgotten corner of the hall closet in my old place.

In the process of moving -- I have now reached unpacking stage -- I have dredged up many artifacts from my, and my family's past. Several boxes that reached my new abode, originated in my grandmother's kitchen. When she sold the apartment building that she used to own, and in which I lived whilst in film school, I took everything from the kitchen in one fell swoop. I mean everything. Except the proverbial sink, but still: refrigerator, microwave, toaster oven, electric can opener - who has those anymore?! It's such a luxury. Along with every single item from the cabinets and drawers.

So here it is, almost six years later, and opening these boxes is like Christmas day combined with opening someone else's time capsule. There are many...uh...utensils...whose possible function completely baffles me. There's one I call "poke you in the finger thingy". It's a small round plastic thing that you depress on the top, and then a sharp needle comes out the other side and...pokes you in the finger. I can't figure out what this is for, other than Easter egg decorating. Did you ever do this? You poke a hole in an egg, blow out all the innards, and then you decorate the egg and you don't have to throw it out because there's nothing left to rot. Who knew there was a tool for this?

There's something that looks like an Afro comb. Several knives that look like they should be warn on the belt of a Shriner. A boiled egg slicer -- which is common enough, I guess. But I never thought about slicing a boiled egg myself until encountering this slicer. It reminds me of a genius tupperware piece that is designed to carry deviled eggs. Having once tried to bring deviled eggs to the Hollywood Bowl in some generic piece of plastic, I can definitely appreciate the specificity of that particular container.

My favorite so far is a pie server with a little sliding piece that pushes the piece of pie off the server and onto the plate so you don't have to use your finger. I'm thinking of putting it in a display case with an old copy of Emily Post I picked up somewhere. No, you may not use your finger, ever!!! (And also, no wire hangers. But you already knew that.)

There are also many different sizes and shapes of casserole dish. I don't think I've made a casserole, ever. Ever. Although, looking at one of these dishes reminded me of a casserole my mom used to make that I think involved spinach and egg noodles, and one that my grandmother (the other one) used to make that's called something like tamale surprise. Come to think of it, maybe I should make casseroles. I bet you can eat them all week and never get tired of them.

This is, by the way, my new plan for cooking: Step 1: Cook a bunch of stuff on Sunday. Step 2: Reheat for the rest of the week.

All of these dishes and utensils reminds me of the fact that, in times gone by, if you were a woman, it was your job to have all these tools, make all these casseroles, and keep your house tidy and clean to an insane degree. I mean there's my version of clean, and then there's my grandmother's version of clean. (I also brought with me at some point, a whole box-load of specific cleaning products that she used to use which proves this point. I mean, when was the last time you polished your bathroom fixtures with chrome polish? That's what I thought, you filthy thing.) In December, my roommate's mother came down for a visit, and things got even cleaner. We did a pretty decent cleaning before she came, but just so we wouldn't get the "I don't know how you girls can live this way." Still, she cleaned again when she came. She even said that we should be cleaning the burners on the stove every time we used it. What?! I barely have enough time to clean myself every day, let alone an appliance.

This is the difference between housekeeping as something you do when you're not working/something you do when people are coming over vs. housekeeping you do as your job. And this brings up, again, one of my favorite phrases. "Good enough." "Clean enough" goes along with this. Especially since as a society we've probably gotten too clean. My dad and his brothers used to play in the ditch, and as a kid, I too, spent some time in a ditch. Now kids are are bombarded with bleach every time they encounter anything vaguely organic, and they're allergic to everything.

Remember in 4th grade, when they boys used to say things like, "God made dirt and dirt can't hurt." (I used to say, "God made snakes, too, they can hurt." But you get my meaning).

We can't do everything. Actually, we can do everything, but only if we have a housewife from the 50's. Guys? Any takers?

Still, I guess we all long for neatness and order, even though it is the nature of the world to be the opposite (ah, entropy, you are such a lovely word for messy and unpredictable). And maybe that's why we develop affection for things like shelf-paper, deviled egg tupperware containers, and anything that comes from the Container Store.