I am who I am

In my big Armenian family, filled with successfull business-owning women, full-time mothers, and full-time cooks and cleaners, cleanliness/domestication is a must, and anything else is "shame-shame".

Just ask Nana. She'll tell you to always keep you're house clean as if you're expecting company, and for the house to be clean, and quiet, when the husband comes home. The ukushuluk, which later I found other people to call "dustpan and broom" is one of Nana's most prized possessions, as is her dustbuster. Hours are spent on meals. Armenian delicacies are prepared on a daily basis for no reason other than just in case people come over. Papa, to auntie Penny the day before her wedding, told her that the key to marriage was always keeping a clean house.

That puts a lot of pressure on a girl. So I have spent my entire life trying to convince my friends, roommates, and boyfriends (though I'm not sure they were ever convinced) that I am clean and an expert cook, even for foods I've never cooked before.

But, it isn't until now that I'm ready to admit things to myself.

I am messy.

I honestly don't remember the last time I scrubbed a bathtub.

I have remembered to wash a floor maybe 6 times in my life.

I really can't believe how many times I have to wipe a god damn counter for it to be completely crumb-free.

I could probably do a better job of cleaning things that have touched raw meat...

I hate loading and unloading the dishwasher.

The only reason I'll be vacumming like crazy this year is because it is literally written into my lease that I have to.

JR thinks the only reason we may ever break up is because I refuse to stop throwing wet towels on the floor instead of hanging them up.

I don't like cleaning my hair off the floor. To me, its normal for it to be there.

The fact that all of my clothes are in drawers right now is almost absurd.

I cooked bacon the other day, for JR's breakfast sandwhich before work, because that's the kind of live-in girlfriend I'm portraying myself to be. It was then that I realized, I really haven't cooked a lot of bacon in my life. I don't know what I'm doing. How can it skip crispy and go straight to burnt?

I still have to call home sometimes to ask which kind of oil to cook things in.

After I cook a full meal, and dessert, it literally looks like a bomb when off in my kitchen. I cannot keep it together.

I've said before, I'm a terrible multi-tasker. Last night I cooked spaghetti sauce, meatballs, and sugar cookies from scratch. My brain and body were both ready for bed by 9:00pm.

I have never cooked lasagna. THERE, I said it.

I eat things as I'm making them. And while Nana would never lick the spoon of the batter, I practically make myself sick off of it.

I also eat leftover orzo out of the pan. That does bring me shame, as I'm sure it brings shame to my family, but I'm here and I'm admitting it.

Now that I am the woman of my own apartment, I'm starting to understand. I now know that it's embarrassing for poeple to come over and see a messy house. So yes, I'll be sweeping, and mopping, and scrubbing, and wiping, and spraying, and UGH YES, HANGING THE TOWELS UP. But, I am who I am, and it'll always be a struggle.

With that said, any messy confessions from other girls or guys are happily welcomed...