When your bladder is at maximum capacity is usually when it’s the most inopportune time to actually go to the bathroom. Sometimes it’s because the only bathroom available is disgusting. Sometimes there is no bathroom at all. If you lack a penis, then your choices are to hold it or find a place to squat (and hope you don’t end up with wet shoes). Now you have a third option – you can pee while standing up!
Growing up, we had one pink pillar candle in our living room which was almost never lit. The one time that I remember my mom putting it in the bathroom and lighting it, I snuck over to stare at the flame. I started to wonder how close I could get to it, but I was afraid to burn myself. I somehow came up with the brilliant idea to get a piece of toilet paper and swirl it in a circle around the flame. With each revolution, I brought the toilet paper a little closer to the flame until it finally caught on fire. I panicked and threw the flaming TP into the toilet and flushed. To this day, my mom still doesn’t know that I almost set the bathroom (and the house) on fire. That experience was enough to teach me not to mess with fire.
When I was five or six years old, I had a Snoopy Sno-Cone machine. My mom only let me use it when she had time to supervise me, so it was always a treat. It’s actually funny to grwon-up me that as a child, I thought of working my tiny little biceps pushing down on the red roof to decimate ice cubes was a treat. Of course, now you can buy a refrigerator/freezer that will give you cubed, crushed, or shaved ice with just the push of a button. As an adult, I appreciate being able to have something like shaved ice without all the extra work, but I’ll always have a little place in my heart for the nostalgic workout that using a Snoopy Sno-Cone machine gives. On the rare occasion that I have Italian ice (or Hawaiian shave ice, which irks me for its incorrect grammar), I remember how much I loved my Snoopy Sno-Cones and wonder what I loved more: the sugary syrup or the fact that my own little hands helped create my cold treat.
When I was in high school, I read a book about how birth order affects personality. According to this book, I’m highly organized. I laughed when I read that because I’m kind of messy. The book went on to explain that many first born children don’t seem organized but there is a method to their madness, meaning that even if their desks don’t look tidy, they know exactly where that particular file is. That’s me!
I’m not a jetsetter who flies all over the world constantly, but I do fly domestically an average of four times per year. I don’t love flying, but I don’t really mind it either. I’d rather sit on a plane for ninety minutes than sit in a car for eight hours to reach the same destination. For short flights to see my parents, I don’t do much preparation aside from packing. I hate checking my luggage, so I always cram everything I will need (regardless of the weather or the length of my trip) into one rolling suitcase and one additional bag (ranging in size from a backpack to a medium sized duffel bag). Three days in the summer, two weeks at Christmas? Same baggage. Since it’s such a short flight, I usually bring one snack item (like a granola bar or some cookies) and a large bottle that I can fill with water once I get past security. Longer flights, however, require a bit more effort. Since I just got back from a loooooong international flight, I decided to share the awesomely essential things that made fifteen hours in coach slightly less painful.
I am now an impulse shopper. I used to try being patient, but I learned that if I didn’t buy something right away, I would obsess about it and even visit it online or in the store and then eventually give in and buy it. That means the time between when I initially wanted to buy it and when I finally bought it was just time wasted when I could have been enjoying what I wanted. Even worse, sometimes I tried to talk myself out of it for so long that by the time I decided to buy it, the size or color I wanted was no longer available. This is my explanation for why, only four short days after my previous post, I ordered a FUMI purse hook/bracelet from Je’Marie. I bought the Confident (black snakeskin pattern):
I admit that I am a germophobe. I’m not to the point where I walk around wearing a hospital mask and gloves all day, but it grosses me out when I see people do things like touch the bottom of their shoes and then touch other stuff without washing their hands. It makes me imagine all the gross things they have walked on (dirt, dog crap, and lord knows what else) and are now spreading all over their staplers and keyboards. Blech!
In that vein, I really do not get how women can put their purses on the ground and then on their car seats, bedspreads, laps, or kitchen counters. I’ve seen women put their purses on the floor in the most disgusting places. Is the floor of a bar or the bathroom at Target something you want to lick or lie on? If not, why would you put your purse on those surfaces and then put that same purse, which now has gross cooties, on your bed? Ewwww!