Liberal: *Why the hell would I be unable or unwilling to get my meaning across? *
I wish I knew. Look, here’s what happened:
Sunspace asked a question about the custom of having never-used fancy rooms.
I replied to that, pointing out that never-used fancy rooms are generally considered pretentious by etiquette standards.
You responded to my post by describing your fancy parlor, commenting that some guests won’t even walk through it, but that “there have been others who do as we do, and stand in it or just outside it, gawking, marvelling, and admiring. We do not have the room because we are pretentious.”
Subsequent posts made it clear that jin and I were interpreting your description as meaning that your parlor was a never-used fancy room.
You corrected that impression, saying that you do use the room sometimes for socializing.
I said “Okay, but you didn’t make that clear before.” jin said nothing.
Liberal: *You’re just pissed that a couple of people liked my parlor after your condemnation of it. *
How do you figure that? Again, here’s what happened:
On 01-30-2005 05:55 AM, you posted your description of your parlor.
On 01-30-2005 09:52 AM, Elysian was the first to respond to your post, saying that it sounded lovely.
On 01-30-2005 11:22 AM, Sunspace was the second to respond to your post, saying that it sounded beautiful.
Are those the “couple of people” you mean? Because I hadn’t said a single thing about your parlor at that point, never mind “condemning” it.
Liberal:Sometimes, you’re just a bitch.
Too true. But that doesn’t change the fact that you frequently stink as a communicator. (And it appears from this most recent one that you can’t even follow the sequence of posts in a thread, either.)
I was raised with a Fancy-Schmancy Mother. We had fingertip towels, fancy decorative soaps and even air freshener for when we had company. We put on The Dog when Decent Folks came over.
I am pretty sure some of the soaps go back to the Eisenhower admin. I know she has tourquoise blue creamy eyeshadow that predates 1966. She’s never worn it, but I know she can’t part with it because she paid good money for it back in nineteen augt eleventy seven. ( possibly $3.)
What I want to know is What Is The Deal With Lit Candles on the Back of the Toilet Tank?
Are you:
a) Trying to incinerate your guests?
b) Fuckin’ kidding me
c) Hate everyone equally and trying to whittle down your Xmas card list?
My wealthy and idle MIL once had a toilet taken out, shipped to Italy, de-glazed, hand-painted with an ivy pattern, re-glazed, shipped back, and re-installed – at a cost of $60,000.00.
Yes, but why? Why did you (and why do you always) feel compelled to point out that I did not write an absolutely unabridged accounting of myself that anticipated every possible nuance of misunderstanding and answered all the questions that were forming in your head? I don’t do this to you.
I mean, I could. I could say something like, “Why didn’t you say in your first post that you wanted to know how often we use our parlor? Why did you fail to communicate?” The point of my post clearly was to point out that a person can have a fancy room for purposes other than pretense. On a reading comprehension test, that would have been the correct answer. Why do you have to make up crap to complain about? And why don’t you just stop?
You said things about parlors in general, and as a parlor owner, I quite naturally took exception. Why didn’t you say in your original post that there are exceptions? You failed to comm… see how ridiculous that is?
I didn’t. But nonetheless, what I did was snap at you, albeit mildly, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry, Lib.
Liberal:I don’t do this to you.
No, you just sneer at me when I misunderstand what you wrote, even when what you wrote was so unclear that other people misunderstood it too. It hurts my feelings.
Liberal: * The point of my post clearly was to point out that a person can have a fancy room for purposes other than pretense. *
And the point of my post (prior to that) clearly was to point out that etiquette generally considers fancy rooms pretentious if they are never used.
However, if I didn’t succeed in making that clear, I apologize.
Liberal:Well, you ain’t exactly Ronald Reagan yourself.
Yabbut, then why are half of the bath accessories (soap dishes, shower curtains, etc.) in any given store covered with beach/aquarium motifs? It’s clearly not an individual thing. If you [generic you] like fish and seashells, get an aquarium and collect seashells, and that’s fine and dandy with me. I just don’t get the whole near-universal “bathroom as beach” decorating theory.
Yabbut, I suppose people who use decorative soaps do think they’re beautiful in some way, and so they fit the bill, yes? They fit one of the two choices: useful OR beautiful.
I don’t know from Martha Stewart, but we keep a small votive candle on the back of the toilet tank (not in the bowl! what is up with THAT?) for the purpose of Odor Removal. When we have gatherings, we light it as a preventive measure. Saves people the trouble of lighting/disposing of a match if they find themselves so inclined after they do their thing. What’s wrong with that?
catsix:On top the toilet tank? It’s dangerously close to my hair, which I would not like to set ablaze while I am downloading yellow or brown files.
Hear hear. Especially when my hair was very long, I have had to guard against this possibility by bending my head forward over my knees while performing my business and then groping blindly backwards for the toilet paper, which is not comfortable.
Point taken. Nobody in our house has long hair. But when you come over, you’re free to blow out the candle or set it somewhere else while you do your thing. It’s not glued down. (And our toilet paper holder is well in front of the toilet, on the wall, so no contortions.) Fair enough?
The point is that no one is supposed to use the guest bathroom. It’s the pretty one, you see - the bathroom that shows off the fact one can afford two bathrooms but that THIS one is too beautiful to be afflicted by farts or feces. It is right off the main living room, beautifully lit, decorated, and part of the “welcome to my home” tour. No one can enter it except to dust. Until Liberal clarified I thought he was as much a jerk as that woman was a bitch. I’m glad he’s since explained.
The more I think about it the more I believe this story came from my grandmother describing the bathroom of her brother’s wife.
Ooh! How about putting a clear glass door on it? That way it can be appreciated without disturbing it with one’s breath, and even better, guests will be strongly discouraged from soiling it with bodily wastes!
Incidentally, (and I may be alone in this), I have no problem at all with decorative soap and towels, provided there is an immediately obvious alternative. If someone passes up a perfectly serviceable liquid soap dispenser in favor of the intricately carved and dyed soap sculpture in the little painted ceramic dish, I will most likely consider them an ass. I don’t quite see decorative soap as being equivalent to edible garnishes; rather, I would view the person who uses them as equivalent to somebody who takes a bite out of the plastic orange in the bowl in the centre of the table. I’d never be so rude as to confront them about it, though.
In any case, the issue is academic for me, as I am a bachelor living alone, so my bathroom décor tends more to errant hair and soap slivers than to seashells and sculptures.
Humorously enough, it can happen even when someone does NOT have long hair.
This past week, my wife and I had some friends over. Mrs. Torque lit a small votive in the guest bathroom, near the sink. Very atmospheric.
Well, they’ve only been to our new house a couple of times, and when one went to the bathroom, he wanted to see who made the faucet. As he leaned around the side, trying to see if there was a name on the back, he suddenly smelled burning human hair. Sure enough, he’d leaned right on top of that little candle. And his hair is only about 1/4 of an inch long!
Heh. I used to have a habit of taking nighttime baths with the lights low and six or seven votive candles spread around. Mr. S was quite aware of this and would often join me. One night I was in the tub, candles aglow, and Mr. S came in to brush his teeth or something. Suddenly he began slapping himself, I thought to invite the dog to jump up on him. She thought so too, so I was surprised when he pushed her away, yet kept slapping.
Turned out he had set his sleeve on fire. He says he didn’t see the candle, but I don’t know how. It was RIGHT THERE! And I was in the tub, a sure sign of lit candles nearby.
He was unhurt, but the sweatshirt he was wearing had to be converted to short sleeves. A few weeks later, the tables were turned when I unknowingly laid a sweatshirt near a lit candle and singed a hole in the back of the neck. The “SAFETY FIRST” sweatshirt from Mr. S’s employer.
