Monday, March 24, 2008
My nose has been having an interesting time of things lately. It's interesting to specify a certain part of my face as having "times" at all, but my olfactory senses have been pushed to extremes lately.
To start with the bad: I had the funk in my fridge for sure.
It all started with a lovely pot of chicken soup I cooked up back in November. It ends there too, but it does so five months later. I wish we had eaten it instead of letting it mellow in the fridge for all eternity, but that mistake can't be undone. Regardless, the soup was devoured by something...I think it's a unique kind of mold. And this mold, which I named Miguel, caused the most unholy odor to set up camp in our fridge. It was getting to the point where an exorcist was the next step. I swear the fridge was not far off from head-spinning and projectile vomiting. I think I heard it call my name in the middle of the night.
The unfortunate part is that the spirit of Funk did not just infect the fridge. That would have been bearable. No, it got into all the food. Even the food that was ziplock-bagged. It even got into the SHELLS OF THE EGGS. I swear this is not an exaggeration. MY SCRAMBLED EGGS TASTED LIKE FUNK. It was inescapable, and the lack of delicious food started to drain my will to live.
My wife tells me I am making this up.
At last, when I could handle it no more, I cleaned the fridge. It was nasty. It's been a week, and Meagan and I are STILL arguing over who gets to evict Miguel from his soupy home (we need that pot back...and yes, I am saying that we haven't cleaned it yet). But the tough part is that even after the fridge was squeaky clean, it still had funk! It was incredible, but the funk would not let go!
I almost cried.
After some extensive use of vinegar and baking soda (even mixing them once! Volcano!), I have the fridge mostly good. But it still goes day to day. Sometimes the funk reappears. Sometimes it's completely gone. It's impossible to predict, and I fear I have given the funk the impression that it is welcome to squat in my fridge. Funk, if you are reading this, rest assured that you are NOT welcome. It's hard, but that's the way these things go.
On to the good part for my nose:
My wife got neat soap. For the shower. It's a translucent green bar that smells of cucumber melon.
And it has become an addiction.
A SEXY addiction.
It's one of those scents that's just barely androgynous enough to be either feminine or manly, depending on what you do with it. It's like the David Bowie of scents. After adding my manly-man deodorant to the mix, I smell like a fragrant man-beast. The Creature from Bath and Body Works.
I love this soap.
And it's almost gone.
Mass purchases are on the horizon.
Maybe this time I can get Sun-Ripened Peach.