Disturbing Things That I Used a Screwdriver To Accomplish Today

There's a problem with having a roommate for as long as I did. Or at least, there's a problem with having my particular roommate for that amount of time, and in combination with my particular personality. You see, she was seriously laid back. And I am seriously lazy. And neither of us ever wanted to step on the other's toes.

So you'd have situations where something -- a weird favor from some bridal shower one of us attended or a questionable bottle of wine received as a corporate gift at Christmas time -- would find its way into our apartment. And whoever would bring it in, would put it down ... somewhere. I can't speak for my roommate, but I, at least, would have every intention eventually to put it ... somewhere better. More appropriate. You know, away.

But on too many occasions, that never happened. And after awhile, whatever it was -- the strange angel ashtray, er, soapdish or the giant yellow vase with the artificial flower sticking out of it -- would become part of the decor. And eventually, some of the stuff hung around long enough that we didn't even remember who owned it anymore. So when Chris moved out, I inherited a lot of garbage that may or may not even have been mine in the first place.

Case in point: the arsenal of bottles of wine on my kitchen table. Which admittedly, have remained in my apartment even though Chris has been gone for more than a year. I don't know why I hadn't thrown them out. On the extraordinarily rare occasion that I drink wine, I'm certainly not going to grab something that's got a centimeter of dust on it off my kitchen table. So when I wandered into the kitchen earlier tonight and somehow got sidetracked into a 2-hour kitchen cleaning extravaganza, the ancient bottles of wine had tiny little targets on them, etched in the dust.

There were three of them. I extracted (what I thought was) the cork from the first bottle, upended it in the sink, and nothing came out. I actually thought for a moment that the wine must be so old and of such crap quality that it had solidified, just sitting there for so many years. But a closer inspection revealed that the cork had broken in half when I tried to take it out. I popped the bottom half into the bottle with the corkscrew, and dumped the wine into the sink. Second bottle, same thing happens. And again on the third bottle. Except this time, the bottom half of the cork won't come out. It's wedged deep in the bottleneck, beyond the reach of the corkscrew.

Enter screwdriver.

In hindsight, I don't know why I didn't grab a knife. Or the handle of a fork. I was, after all, in the kitchen. But whatever. I grab a screwdriver. And I'm poking at the cork with it, but the cork's not budging. I give it a little more elbow, and it's still not going anywhere. So I really start pushing the screwdriver into the cork with pretty much everything I've got ... and it's not moving ... until it *totally* gives way, forcing a geyser of disgusting ancient red wine high into the kitchen sky and all over me.

Which is when you learn about your priorities: Literally, there's red wine in my hair, and it's dripping from the tip of my nose. But is this my main concern? Absolutely not. First order of business was the white felt letters on the Notre Dame sweatshirt I had on. There were drops of wine all over them, and it would be terrible to have such a great sweatshirt come to such a tragic end. (I'm happy to report that I successfully dabbed the wine away.)

At any rate, all's well that ends well. The kitchen's clean. The wine's gone. My recycling bag looks like I had a raging wine party. But this was fun. I'm on a bit of cleaning kick right now (New Year's resolutions, you know?) so I look forward to further adventures. I've been thinking about cleaning out the cabinets beneath my sink, and my biggest fear is that I'll find something dead in the process. Cockroaches, most likely, but who knows in this wacky apartment? And at some point, some serious work needs to be done on the toilet. It will require a trip to The Home Depot, which in my world, has always been good for a few laughs. I'll be sure to report back!