21 October, 2011

so you has shoes issues, has you?

we have moved 7 or 8 times in the last 7 or 8 years (pardon the vagueness, but you must admit that's pretty damn exhausting which is my excuse) so a large portion of our Stuff has been living out their nomadic existence encased in large rubbermaid bins. since we've arrived in edmonton to some degree of stability and permanence, one of my projects has been to find an official spot for all but our least often used items (yoga mats, i'm (sadly) looking at you). this has proven to be a challenge i have met with skill and aplomb (in fact, this kind of challenge is the pretty much the only kind of challenge i enjoy. all others can please go away and leave me to my drinking.)

until we reached the shoes, that is. oh yes. the shoes.

whilst mister monkey traipsed along the shiny avenues of chicago this last week* i decided to Face the Challenge of the Shoes. the bin containing them is a mess filled with various plastic and fabric bags and baggies and digging out the perfect pair of pumps for that dressy soiree can be a heartbreaking affair (purely imaginary, that. our soirees, such as they are, are conducted largely barefoot. also, i'm fairly certain i don't own any pumps and neither does mr. monkey, which might explain the difficulty).

so, how hard can it be for an intelligent capable woman to find, buy, construct and fill a small simple shoe shelf? you don't wanna know.

wednesday at lunch, i purchased two different shelving units, thinking that one would work if the other one did not. wednesday night after work i cursed, swore, whacked, pushed and shoved my way through a minor construction project. during this physically and psychologically draining endeavour, i learned The Importance Of Reading Instructions Prior To Commencing Project (Or At The Very Least Looking At The Picture On The Box Really Closely) (although SPOILER ALERT i did not carry this lesson with me into the future). i also learned that what manufacturers call "shelving for shoes" tends to mean "shelving for flip-flops, ballet slippers and other flat objects because that extra centimetre of thermosetting polymer tubing seriously cuts into profits" which, in turn, means that hiking boots are out. because most of the footwear that was to be inhabiting the shelving unit in question was to be, in fact, hiking boots, this meant that i now entered phase two of the project: deconstruction.

deconstruction was marginally easier than construction, keeping in mind that despite my fondest fantasies, i could not merely take a baseball bat to the shelves, smiting my enemies into dust, but had to return them unscathed to their point of origin. more swearing ensued. (much more.)( though less than before.)( but still a fair amount.) tubes that previously refused to pop into slots, now resolutely refused to pop out. a hammer was taken out and used judiciously despite the very clear sign on the box that indicated that no tools were required. whatever.

thursday i took a mental break (also, my fingers were too numb and bruised to do anything constructive) and went to zumba after work. it didn't work that well as far as breaks go, in that my ass still hurts today, but at least there were no shelves to de/construct.

friday morning i revisited various stores and returned various shelving units, one elegantly repackaged in the original box, and one shoved haphazardly into a beaten-up box in much the same way one deals with a plastic christmas tree that first year**. while shopping, i came across a brand new exciting (and, more importantly, simple looking) set of shelves. i bought them. i took them to my mom-in-law's and, because i am occasionally logical and forward thinking, i opened up the box and found a flimsy piece of crap. i returned it right after brunch. this brought my total to 3 purchases, 2 constructions, 2 deconstructions, 3 returns, 100% fail. but hey, the day was young!

friday afternoon, i walked into wal-mart determined to find what i needed at that mecca of cheap shoddy sweatshop-produced garbage. my determination paid off. i came home with a set of shelves that were inexpensive, just the right size and ridiculously easy to put together.

right.

what ensued looked like an old charlie chaplin film. i put things into slots, i pulled, i wiggled, i shoved and it just wasn't going the right way. then i looked at the package photo again. oh. oh, i see. i swore and spent the next 5 minutes taking it apart again, seeing as i put it together wrong in every possible way short of turning it upside down. i started again. this time i was determined to do it the right way. except it wouldn't go. i held up one bit, the other fell down. i leaned one bit against a wall, held the other under my chin and attempted to hook the little hooks on the metal part. it fell apart. this went on for a longish while. i'm fairy certain my octogenarian neighbours are very curious as to the meaning of "KURWA!!!***" 


there came a low point at which i was kneeling with my head down on the floor, sobbing and swearing and feeling like the back end of a not particularly bright donkey. eventually, after i gave myself a very stern talking to regarding the segment of the population that wal-mart products are generally aimed at vis-à-vis my perceived intellectual prowess etc. etc. and after several more minutes of  clatterings, clangs and much muted swearing, i had myself a shelf.


it's not perfect: it could be bigger, it could be sturdier, it could be better quality. but i'll be fucked before i go another round: my ego cannot take it.



*surprisingly, i chose not to accompany him. i love chicago but i thought it was perhaps my chance to be a bread winning bacon homebringer for a change, and thus it was.

** they really ought to have a team of physicists and other quantum mechanics types working on this problem - how is it that a christmas tree never ever fits back into the box it came out of, no matter what you do to it short of setting it on fire.

*** very very bad word in polish. if you know one word in polish, chances are this is the word you know. do not use it in public.

11 comments:

Zhoen said...

I'll stick with a boot mat.

the polish chick said...

zhoen, we have *a lot* of shoes! there isn't room in the entry way. this had to be done, and done it has been.

brad said...

I'll stick with "floor beside the litter box"

the polish chick said...

brad, wow, your very first comment ever. hi, welcome, welcome. make yourself at home!

bu again - we have A LOT of shoes.

Lucy said...

We bought long shoe racks of a simple design with three layers of chrome tubes from Lidl, which seemed a good idea and I think went together all right but then all my shoes drop down between the chrome tubes, presumably because they aren't big enough, and end up in a heap on the mat anyway.

Geneviève said...

I'll know who not to call when I have Ikea piece of crap to put together.

the polish chick said...

actually, g, i'm very good at putting together ikea furniture. i was the one who put together our whole kitchen in the last house. go figure.

the polish chick said...

in fact, i can put together ikea furniture drunk OR sober. kitchen, thankfully, was sober, but the coffee table... well, the less said about that, the better.

Wally B said...

You can't walk across the floor in our bedroom without tripping over my wife's shoes. She's the Imelda Marcos of Seattle. They are festooned on the back of doors, carpeting closets, under the bed and in boxes too numerous to count. If I move any of them, she knows. How do women do that? I love the blog. I don't know why I've waited so long to visit.

the polish chick said...

hi wally b, welcome, welcome. nice to have you.

as for our sixth shoe sense, i believe it is a genetic mutation of some sort, and i am certain that in the palaeolithic era it had something to do with survival.

might i suggest you get your wife a lovely shoe shelf?

Geneviève said...

You should not advertise you kitchen building expertise to someone who is about to renovate their kitchen. You're just lucky we're not in the same city.

And for the record. I hate shoes. When I go to hell I will be filling out government forms and looking for shoes that don't kill my feet.