I'd like to think of myself as a reasonably intelligent woman (typos notwithstanding).
I did good in high school. I could remember anything long enough to pass a test.
I managed to graduate college (university) with honors while working full-time.
But, I have been done in by British appliances.
Seriously. How hard can it be? It's just a few buttons and dials, right?
Some simple words. On. Off. Hi. Low.
Well, apparently I now need to take an on-line course to figure out how to use anything in my kitchen.
This is in my freezer.
Lambs, chickens, cows and reindeer. Cupcakes, a puppy and some fruit. Huh?
And not only do I have this one lovely dial. But, I have four of them. One on each drawer.
What I need to know is how to defrost the damn thing.
It's built into the cabinets so never really seals when closed so always needs a defrost.
At least it's a pretty good size.
And then there's the "microwelle" which is apparently a microwave and an oven.
Inside is a metal tray and two metal racks. Metal. In a microwave.
My first attempt to use it resulted in sparks and pops.
Since then I've been brave enough to try popcorn three time.
Results? 1. Burnt. 2. Ten kernels popped.
3. Success. Most kernels popped and only slightly burnt.
There is also a regular oven.
Obviously, it's in Celsius rather than Fahrenheit. Nothin' a little Google action can't solve.
But, what the hell does this mean?
Lines, squiggles and a plane propeller. Not a single short, basic word in sight.
And check out the buttons for the dishwasher...
Can someone please tell me what this means?
(Before you suggest it, yes, we do have the manuals for all of these appliances.
However, I'd much rather bitch blog about it then actually educate myself.)
And lastly,
(cue the ominous music)
my arch nemesis,
(Dum! Dum! Duuum!)
the Washer/Dryer Combo!
(screams and wails from the chorus)
Or as I like to call it...
The Shake and Bake.
So, what you do is you put 5 articles of clothing into the little pot.
Because that is all it will hold which means you do laundry a lot.
It then shakes those clothes around for about an hour and a half.
Then the Nuclear Cycle kicks in.
For the next two hours, all of your dainties, jeans and jumpers
are exposed to temperatures so high that it actually
changes the molecular structure of the fiber content.
And more of the hieroglyphics.
I've managed to go 46 years avoiding an iron.
I could probably count on one hand the number of times I've actually done it.
There is even a special section at the back of my closet
for clothes I wore one time and will never wear again
because they weren't permanent press.
And yet, I now find myself a woman with an...
(deep breath)
I can't even bring myself to type it...
(sob)
a woman with an...
an...
IRONING DAY!!!
That's right. Monday is Ironing Day.
Talk amongst yourselves. I need a moment.
No fluff and tumble here, my dear friends.
Clothes are wadded up, wrinkles are baked in.
Even the most wrinkle resistant fiber in the world comes out
looking like the skin on my neck a Shar Pei.
I am now a woman who irons sheets and dishtowels.
What the hell?
Let's just hope we figure out how to use this thing before the temperature drops any further.
xoxo
Selena
P.S. Sorry for the rant. I promise to post a Favo(u)rite Post soon! But, I do feel better. I'd also like to apologize to my mom for using a few bad words (like "iron"). It really couldn't be avoided.
