So, I’m cleaning my house to prepare to show it to perfect strangers, many of whom will probably go through my stuff. Who snoops when you go to look at a new house? Get your hands up.
Anyway, I scrubbed and polished and did all that I could. My realtor sent maids out today to “get what I had missed.” HA! I thought. I’ve missed nothing. Every surface is now a dinner plate. Spider-Man could eat from my ceiling.
These ladies are like Dust Whisperers. They’re coaxing filth from all corners of my house, getting in cracks I didn’t know existed. I think they’re recalling grime from years past, teasing it from the very walls. There’s a pile of pet hair and crap sitting outside my office door right now, a huge pile, and I have no idea where the fuck it came from.
It’s kind of creeping me out. I only hope they can clean my shower this well, as we have a form of black mold that seems to bond directly to caulk. It’s taken over my shower, and I think it’s eaten one of the cats.
Looking around my office right now, it’s cleaner than it was, and I’ve been in here the entire time the maids have been in the house. When did they clean it? I didn’t see them. They either called the dirt out from around me, or they’re actually ninjas.
While I’ve been cleaning like a maniac (not as good as a ninja, apparently) I’ve had the television on for company. What Netflix guilty pleasure did I pick? Xena: Warrior Princess. I know, I know, but for fantasy/cheese, it’s a good bet. I ended up look up some of the actors on Wikipedia (because I have no life), and discovered that the man who plays Ares, Kevin Smith (no, not that one), died in 2002. To quote Wikipedia:
“On 6 February 2002 Smith completed his work on the set in…Beijing. …while waiting for a ride back to the hotel, he decided to walk around the Central China Television film studio grounds, and climbed a prop tower on the set of another film. He lost his footing and fell several stories, suffering severe head injuries… He died on 15 February without regaining consciousness.”
Just randomly decided to climb a prop tower, eh? This was something he was known for, randomly climbing things? I know when I’m in a strange city, waiting for my ride at night, the first thing I do is find something to climb. Sounds like he pissed off someone he shouldn’t have in Beijing. The article says he was also on the cusp of launching his Hollywood career. Muy suspicious, no?
As for all your backseats being deleted, that’s a story I heard about editors at publishing houses. Seems they can change stuff in your story without your knowledge or say-so. One random author had all instances of the word backseat deleted from her novel and replaced with something that made no sense. A friend of mine had most of her commas removed (though they were grammatically correct) because an editor claimed it made the manuscript “too comma-y.” That’s a thing? I heard another story about a cat that made a whuffling noise in the manuscript, but the editor decided that was a typo and changed it to waffling. I had it when my cat waffles. Get off the fucking fence already and make a decision. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway since the shower ate him.
Any good horror stories?