Forty-Something Years in Ninaland

The Apocalypse: Changing the Carpet Part Two…


I may have mentioned that we got new carpet. As lovely as that sounds, let me tell you a secret. It’s not lovely. It’s more like Hurricane Nina entered our home. In order to get new carpet, you have to turn your entire house upside down and backwards, so that not a single item is on a single surface in a carpeted area.

Let me tell you something about inanimate objects, they surprisingly don’t move by themselves. Shocking, I know. Since I don’t per say know any magic tricks, or that telepathically moving objects thing called something or the other, please google it for me. Telekinesis is what they officially call moving objects by mentally thinking about it. I don’t know how to do that so I had to go around the house picking up random stuff. Just stuff here and there and everywhere.

Do you have any idea how much stuff humans can accumulate after thirty years? Especially people who are on the hoarding side of the sliding scale of neatness. My family is not like an actual bunch of hoarders who need intervention, but we have accumulated a massive amount of useless clutter. From ugly old Indian green and yellow plaid cloth that could be made into Salvar Kameezes, but in my hands were thrown out immediately, to old medical cassette tapes from Yale University. No one in our family went to YALE! How did this STUFF enter our home, I ask you? And why is all of the crap of the house in the basement, where I live?

My mom’s a doctor so the amount of paper pads, pens, and paraphernalia that have medicine labels on them that are from pharmaceutical companies alone could fill up a pickup truck. I’m talking everything from paper weights with Gas X logos to umbrellas with huge PROZAC labels on them. It would have to be one hell of a rainy day for me to bring out that green Prozac umbrella, let me tell you.

Then there’s the magazines, one for every different type of medical analysis. JAMA, The Journal of the American Medical Association is my favorite. They every now and then will have photographs of huge puss filled dermatological conditions, ie disgusting huge ass zits on people’s groins or armpits or somewhere where puss should never go. The AFP or The American Family Physicians is a little tamer, they sometimes have drawings or cartoons on their covers of deadly contagious diseases that you could get by simply looking too closely at the illustrations. I’m telling you it is a mad house, this house of a doctor.

Actual article from JAMA

There are entire binders from conferences about more deadly diseases which when looking closely at the materials, one comes to realize that we are all going to die of a disgusting incurable disease.

It’s all very depressing.

So basically, while my mom was cleaning out her closet, I cleaned out all the medical paraphernalia from the last three decades in the basement without her consent. You see, she likes papers and information. I can’t have that unhealthy material brewing all over this house, we will all go madder than we already are. Hyprocandriacs that we are.

Then there were my closets, yes that’s plural for too many clothes, too little time. I have clothes in every size, much like the women’s section of any mall. I basically have a department store all my own, in the several closets my clothing takes up. No, I will not give away clothes that are too small for me. I won’t do it. I will fit back into those fucking clothes again if it’s the last thing I do on this earth. Don’t doubt me!

Now let’s talk about books for a second. I used to think there was no such thing as bad books. I stand corrected. The entire series of Sweet Valley High books were found under my sister’s bed, along with the Babysitters Club and some other random adolescent erroneous literature. I’m obviously going to take them to the library, as soon as I gather the 78 dollars I owe them for three hard cover books I never returned. I am in possession of those three unreturned books, I actually even know where they are. Why have I not returned them in two years you ask? Why is the sky blue? When you figure that out I’ll tell you.

Anyways, speaking of books, we found a ratty old ripped up Bible while cleaning out one of the rooms. My dad wouldn’t let me throw it away because he heard it isn’t a bad book. And clearly it’s a great book, he hasn’t read it, I’ve read entire sections. The moral of the story is that if this Jesus is the savior business turns out to be true, we did not throw out that Bible gosh darn it. No, we didn’t. We might even read it one day.

OK, I’m not gonna lie. I read Sweet Valley High like it was Shakespeare for girls when I was in elementary school. It did not teach me how to read better. All it really taught me was to envy white blond girls with blue eyes, and pretty popular girls in high school. I blame my crushes on unattainable athletes in high school on Sweet Valley High. I really am against these toxic books and might even, dare we say, burn them. Wow, I’m thinking of burning a book. You learn something new about yourself every day. Anyone up for a bonfire? We could all sing old together…

Why are there so many songs about rainbows, and so many CD’s, tapes, records in this home??? We are not a recording studio. We own too much music. I never thought that could be a thing. Having too much music seems impossible, apparently, it’s not. My sister’s collection of hip hop from the nineties, mixed with Sarah McLachlan, Tori Amos, and U2 is apparently the collection of a lifetime. I had some friends move our sofa and they found her CD’s and hoarded them for themselves. Good riddance I said. Go, and take a few video and audio cassette tapes while you are at it. Haven’t you people heard of Spotify?

Records I can respect, we have a record player and it does sound kinda cool. But, please people. Get rid of your cassettes. They, whoever they are, have stopped making cassette tapes or video tapes, or cassette players or video players. It was mediocre technology, to begin with. Why are we holding on to this crap? My mother had a collection that went up to the ceiling of VHS tapes of old Bollywood Indian Movies. Thankfully our cleaning lady, who is a godsend, convinced her to say goodbye to said tapes. We threw them out. Halleluia!!!!

You’d think I could not possibly rant more about this carpet change. You would be wrong. I could go on for days. My back hurts, my belongings are still everywhere. I have no idea where my Apple TV remote is. Do you realize how small they make those Apple remotes? It’s like they want you to lose them and then buy a new Apple TV. I know, I know, first world problems.

My poor blind father could not find his shaving blades, his aftershave lotion etc. The house was in shambles!!!!!

Honestly, I think carpet is overrated. I wanted wooden floors. I don’t get a vote in this house. Just cause my parents pay the mortgage they don’t listen to me. The value of the house would increase with wooden floors. How do I know this? HGTV baby!

So if anyone ever suggests, in passing that you need new carpet. Think twice people.

Think twice, that’s only advice.


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One Response to The Apocalypse: Changing the Carpet Part Two…

  1. Facebook Comments:
    Amy Becker Lauter:
    I kind of want those Sweet Valley High books.

    Author Nina Kaur:
    Girl you can have them!

    Amy Becker Lauter :
    Ok I’ll take them!

    Author Nina Kaur:
    Honey they are all yours!

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