When I was grocery shopping the other day I ended up picking a line with a cashier who was obviously miserable in his job. He was a dodgy looking little man with glasses and flapping skin. As I started loading my groceries on the conveyor belt he gave me the "stink eye." Seriously, then he muttered under his breath that "I had more than a few items." Well, there was NO SIGN indicating that it was an express lane!
The nasty crudgmudgen didn't even bother to pack my bags... and on top of it all I was in such a rush to scramble out from under his hateful glare that I squashed my loaf of bread! My children ended up eating sandwiches made on bread slices resembling pieces of a jig-saw puzzle!
The next time I popped in, there he was behind his cash register, his eyes darting wildly about like an evil troll guarding his treasure. His lane was empty (no shocker there), but you better believe I would stand in a line 20 people deep before I got in his lane again!!!
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
A Mom Decoder Ring...
The other day my mom phoned to ask if I had watched a particular movie. Now you have to personally know my mom to understand that she has her own unique form of communication. There are always a lot of whatchamacallits, doodads, and thingamabobs thrown into the mix. You need a decoder of sorts to interpret what she says. Of course over the years I've become masterful at translating my mom's banter, but I must admit that sometimes even I get stumped. This is how our recent exchange went...
"It was a really good movie," she tells me.
"What's the name of it?" I asked.
"I'm not sure," she replies. "But is has that actress in it. You know... whodoyoucallit."
"Uhm... would you please be a little more specific."
"Blond. I think she was on a TV show."
"OK Mom, I still need something more to go on..."
"She was married to that one guy and then he went off with that other woman."
Eesh! That covered more than half the celebrity couples out there.
Hmm. I thought for a moment. Aha! "Jennifer Aniston," I guessed. "She was on Friends, married to Brad Pitt, who is now with Angelina Jolie."
Silence.
"Mom? Hello? Is the actress Jennifer Aniston?"
"Maybe," she offers. "It was a really cute movie, you should watch it."
*Sigh*
"Thanks Mom, I will."
"It was a really good movie," she tells me.
"What's the name of it?" I asked.
"I'm not sure," she replies. "But is has that actress in it. You know... whodoyoucallit."
"Uhm... would you please be a little more specific."
"Blond. I think she was on a TV show."
"OK Mom, I still need something more to go on..."
"She was married to that one guy and then he went off with that other woman."
Eesh! That covered more than half the celebrity couples out there.
Hmm. I thought for a moment. Aha! "Jennifer Aniston," I guessed. "She was on Friends, married to Brad Pitt, who is now with Angelina Jolie."
Silence.
"Mom? Hello? Is the actress Jennifer Aniston?"
"Maybe," she offers. "It was a really cute movie, you should watch it."
*Sigh*
"Thanks Mom, I will."
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Learning Italian - (Bucket List Part III)
Buongiorno mi amici...
Just an update on my quest to learn Italian... Sto imparando l'italiano da tre mesi. Ancora molto da imparare. Which hopefully I did not totally mangle, but it should translate to "I am studying Italian for three months. There is still much to learn." Seriously, it has been quite a long time since I had to review the rules of grammar, but in another language no less! Prepositions, present indicative, past participles, present progressive and possesives, well really it is enough to make my head swim!
I also do not always have time for as much studying as I would like. However, I have made a lot of progress and even surprise myself sometimes with how much I have picked up so far. I read better than I write and I still have some trouble with a verbal conversation, but I try not to be too hard on myself. After all, this is a self-taught program and not a traditional course.
I think one of my favorite parts about this whole experience has been the friendships I have made. I don't know if I am just fortunate or if all the people in Italy are as lovely as the ones I have been writing to. I would not be as far along in my studies if it was not for their help. There is one friend in particular that I really owe a deep debt of gratitude. His unwavering patience and help have been invaluable.
Maybe in a few more months I will be ready for a lengthy conversation in Italian. The program I am using let's me speak the language and grades me on my pronunciation. So far I have passed each test. I am excited and can't wait for the day that I can converse a little more fluently. My dream is to visit Italy at some point in my life and try out my new language skills.
Ciao, a presto!
Just an update on my quest to learn Italian... Sto imparando l'italiano da tre mesi. Ancora molto da imparare. Which hopefully I did not totally mangle, but it should translate to "I am studying Italian for three months. There is still much to learn." Seriously, it has been quite a long time since I had to review the rules of grammar, but in another language no less! Prepositions, present indicative, past participles, present progressive and possesives, well really it is enough to make my head swim!
I also do not always have time for as much studying as I would like. However, I have made a lot of progress and even surprise myself sometimes with how much I have picked up so far. I read better than I write and I still have some trouble with a verbal conversation, but I try not to be too hard on myself. After all, this is a self-taught program and not a traditional course.
I think one of my favorite parts about this whole experience has been the friendships I have made. I don't know if I am just fortunate or if all the people in Italy are as lovely as the ones I have been writing to. I would not be as far along in my studies if it was not for their help. There is one friend in particular that I really owe a deep debt of gratitude. His unwavering patience and help have been invaluable.
Maybe in a few more months I will be ready for a lengthy conversation in Italian. The program I am using let's me speak the language and grades me on my pronunciation. So far I have passed each test. I am excited and can't wait for the day that I can converse a little more fluently. My dream is to visit Italy at some point in my life and try out my new language skills.
Ciao, a presto!
Ladies: Single for the Holidays?
As the holiday season approaches I sometimes hear women lamenting about the fact that for one reason or another they don’t have a man in their life. Well fear not single ladies, you are not alone. There are many women who will be pulling off the holidays solo. Take advantage of this time and make the most of it! Remember, you are fabulous!
If you need a little help, I compiled a list of reasons to be thankful for not having a man in your life...
TOP 10 REASONS TO BE THANKFUL (for not having a man in your life)!
10. The passing of gas (in any form) will not be turned into a time-honored tradition.
9. You don't have to shop for a beer holster. (Yes, Virginia they really do exist.)
8. You can skip shaving for a day (or two or three…).
7. You can save money by not paying for 5 ESPN channels. (5? Seriously?)
6. Dirty clothes will be in the hamper, not on the floor.
5. The toilet lid is always down.
4. No fighting over whose parent’s house to visit for the holidays.
3. The leftover piece of cake you’ve been saving will still be there when you want it.
And the #1 reason to be thankful...
1. The shower remains a shower and NOT a giant urinal.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Bucket List - Part II
For those of you keeping up with my blog, you know that recently I have taken up Italian. And to help supplement my studies I enrolled in a language exchange program. It was easy. I just set up a profile, waited the 24 hr approval period, and began my search for a pen pal. Graciously three out of four people responded to my plea for help with my Italian (in exchange for lessons in English). All three have faithfully corresponded with me from our initial contact.
I am fortunate that they are all very patient. Obviously I love to write (it's what I do!). And for this reason I am easily frustrated when I can't string together the appropriate words to translate into comprehensible Italian. Even with the help of an English/Italian dictionary I end of up saying strange things like.."we should buy more butter to write us back at the library!" However, I am so determined to master this second language that I read everything I can get my hands on. Then every once in awhile I get something right! "Perfect Italian" one of my new friends tell me. Grazie mille!!!
I am so impressed by the level of English all three can read and write. Some days I am not sure if this is more intimidating than inspiring. I feel like I am struggling along, but mainly because I want to rush. I sit through my lessons of un, una, il, la, etc.,etc. All the time wondering if I will be able to speak Italian in 6 months (as guaranteed), or if I'll be the first person to have her money refunded! Ah well, I continue to write to these new friends of mine, that are so kind and gracious. One day who knows, maybe I will be able to write an entire blog in Italian...and I promise, it won't have anything to do about butter!
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Self-doubt: The Unwanted Interloper
In my previous post, I wrote about participating in a language exchange program (in an effort to complete the item on my bucket list - learn a second language). Now whenever I have a free moment I try to study Italian. Truthfully, I'm not exactly the best student and my lap top isn't helping matters. For instance when it freezes up in the middle of a lesson. I inevitably see it as a sign that this just isn't meant to be. But realistically I know that it's just self-doubt creeping in.
Oh, I thought this unwanted interloper was long gone, dismissed alongside other disparaging insecurities from a long ago adolescence. But there it is, still lurking in the shadows. He is a sly one, self-doubt. He waits until I am tired and frustrated, then slowly sidles up and whispers in my ear that maybe, just maybe, I can't accomplish this. But it's not my fault he coos, after all I'm not a kid anymore. Things just don't stick like they used to and I'm so busy now. So many other things to get done, more important things, than a silly wish on a bucket list. But, I shake it off, take a deep breath and refocus my efforts.
I will reboot my computer.
I will call the tech support helpline.
I will have patience!
I will kick self-doubt to the curb!!!
It's relearning how to slow down. To remember that some things (no matter how old-fashioned it sounds) just take time to complete. We are currently living in a world of instant gratification...on-demand movies, instant MP3 downloads, digital cameras, email. It's easy to forget that you can't just download a new language into your brain like you can a music file to your iPod. So I will continue to study, practice and most importantly believe in myself. I won't allow the unwanted interloper to get the best of me.
As one of my new Italian friends reminds me, "Roma non รจ stata fatta in un giorno" -The Roman Empire was not built in a day.
Monday, August 30, 2010
The Bucket List
A few years ago I put together a bucket list. Since that time it's been relatively status quo...nothing crossed off and nothing added. Sad truth is there is very little time left in the day to do something just for myself and even when there is I'm too exhausted! One item on my list is to learn a second language, specifically Italian. I took Spanish in high school, but my true desire has always leaned towards the Italian culture. Maybe due in part to the artistry and cuisine the country is renowned for. But let me back up a bit. I am sure that by now, most people (thanks to the Julia Roberts' cinematic version), have heard of "Eat, Pray, Love", the memoir written by Elizabeth Gilbert. It has always been a preference of mine to read the book before watching the movie so I picked up a copy to see what all the fuss was about. I won't be reviewing the book here, as I have heard many people are divided on the subject. I just wanted to note that it was the author's contagious enthusiam for Italy that motivated me to dust off this particular item on my bucket list.
Now on to learning Italian. Unfortunately there were no traditional classes currently being offered in my area. Not to be deterred, I purchased a self-study program, one that utilizes the immersion method. Truthfully, some days I find it rather slow and tedious, but I am learning so I won't complain. However, "slow" is not really in my vocabulary and I wanted something to supplement my studies. I believe it is important to actively apply a new skill...using what you learn in the every day world. So what I really wanted was to practice Italian with someone. Someone who lives in Italy. Unlike the aforementioned author I do not posses the financial resources to spend four months in the next zip code let alone a new country, so I opted for the next best thing...a pen pal. Yes, I am embarking on a old-fashioned relationship, albeit with a twist of technology.
Through a language exchange site I will be paired with individuals seeking to practice English while they help me with Italian. I'm looking forward to the experience and will be journaling my progress (interspersed with my usual, general musings). In the meantime, I encourage everyone to dust off their own bucket list and try something new. Ciao! a presto.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Taste of Summer
It's the season for peaches and I must admit I went a little overboard at the market recently. I arrived home with more peaches than I really knew what to do with. So I got down to business and began trying out different peach recipes. I made everything from peach slaw to peach cobbler. For the peaches that became a little too ripe I decided to make salsa. Not only is it great alone on tortilla chips, but you can serve it as a topping for grilled pork, chicken, or fish. Enjoy!!!
FRESH PEACH SALSA
Ingredients:
2 cups chopped, peeled fresh peaches
1/4 cup chopped sweet onion
3 Tablespoon lime juice
1 Tablespoon chopped, red pepper
1 Tablespoon chopped, green pepper
1 clove garlic, minced
1 Tablespoon snipped fresh cilantro
1/2 tsp. sugar
Small pinch of salt
Optional - 1 Tablespoon, finely chopped jalapeno pepper
In a medium mixing bowl stir together peaches, onion, lime juice, peppers, garlic, cilantro, sugar and salt. Cover and chill for 1 to 2 hours. Makes approximately 2 Cups.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Shades of Grey
Don't Mess With a Woman's Beauty Enhancer
I was sitting in a coffee shop the other day reading the paper when a male friend of mine entered the shop. I waved in his direction, and after purchasing his coffee he pulled up a chair and sat down. Blowing out a huge sigh he proceeded to ask me how many beauty contraptions (that what’s he called them – contraptions) women had. “Beauty contraptions? Can you be a little more specific?” I asked. “You know.” he said waving his hands in the air like he was batting at a swarm of angry bees. “Like those fake hair things.” “A wig,” I guessed. “Ah, you’re killing me. No, not the whole head, just that thing, it makes your hair look longer.” “Ohhh, you mean extensions?” I said. “Extensions, whatever,” he replied, clearly agitated. “It’s false advertising.” “False advertising?” I asked raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, you know how you women are?” He was practically shouting, and I slanted my eyes at him. “Um, no, why don’t you tell me.” And maybe switch to decaf while you’re at it I was thinking. “All those contraptions. It’s like a bait and switch operation.” I squirmed a bit in my Spanx and gave a small cough. “Well yes, if truth be told, there are many beauty enhancements available to women these days. Push-up bras, false eyelashes, lip plumpers, acrylic nails, tummy controllers, color contacts….” As I ticked off the list he seemed to slump lower in his seat and his eyes glazed over.
I drank a bit of my chai latte and placed my newspaper on the table. “Did something happen you want to tell me about,” I asked? Another huge sigh, and he told me he had a few dates with a woman and then they ended up spending the night together. In the morning he found a huge clump of hair in his bed. “It freaked me out,” he exclaimed. “I didn’t know what the hell it was!” I laughed, and lucky for him I had just finished swallowing my latte, or he would have needed to change his shirt. "Uh huh, what did you do?” “I ran into the kitchen and grabbed my barbeque tongs then I went back and lifted it…the hair, off my bed. That’s when my date came out of the bathroom.” “Uh oh, what did she say?” “She was pissed at me! For crissake, she leaves a two-foot long hairball in my bed and she’s the one who’s pissed?” “Well,” I explained. “The really good ones are expensive. And were your BBQ tongs dirty?”
By this time I was laughing so hard I almost fell off my chair. People started to stare in our direction. “Are you kidding me?” he said running his hand through his hair. “She stomped across the room and snatched it right out of the tongs, gave me the finger, and left. Crazy broad!” Whoa. I stopped laughing. “Wait a minute, you’re the one standing half-naked (I presume), in the middle of your bedroom holding BBQ tongs, right? Well my friend, then you are the one who should be wearing the crazy label.” “But, I…” he stammered. I put a hand up. “Hold on, I’m not done. I seem to recall you had no problem with the girl who had breast implants, but a little fake hair in your bed and you can’t handle it?” "Well that’s different! It’s not like I’m going to find a boob flopping around in my bed now is it?” “Debatable, I mean we are talking about you and it sounds like there’s probably some flopping going on?” “Ha Ha, very funny,” he said. “Okay, but just so you know it could happen,” I said. “The early implants have been known to explode.” “Explode?” “Ok, more like leak,” I admitted. “Oh Geez,” he said throwing his hands up in the air.
He grabbed a section of my paper and began reading. I tapped the table. “So is it safe to assume you two won’t be seeing each other any more?” He lowered the paper. “Actually with the exception of the hair incident, I really like her! Do you think she’ll give me another chance?” Wow, didn’t see that coming. Maybe my friend isn’t a total Neanderthal after all. “Well more than likely she reacted out of embarrassment. All you can do is apologize and hope for the best,” I told him. “Good,” he said. We sat for a few moments just drinking our coffees. “There are enhancers for our behinds too you know,” I said chuckling. “UGH, please no more,” he begged. “Okay,” I promised. “No more talk of beauty contraptions.”
I drank a bit of my chai latte and placed my newspaper on the table. “Did something happen you want to tell me about,” I asked? Another huge sigh, and he told me he had a few dates with a woman and then they ended up spending the night together. In the morning he found a huge clump of hair in his bed. “It freaked me out,” he exclaimed. “I didn’t know what the hell it was!” I laughed, and lucky for him I had just finished swallowing my latte, or he would have needed to change his shirt. "Uh huh, what did you do?” “I ran into the kitchen and grabbed my barbeque tongs then I went back and lifted it…the hair, off my bed. That’s when my date came out of the bathroom.” “Uh oh, what did she say?” “She was pissed at me! For crissake, she leaves a two-foot long hairball in my bed and she’s the one who’s pissed?” “Well,” I explained. “The really good ones are expensive. And were your BBQ tongs dirty?”
By this time I was laughing so hard I almost fell off my chair. People started to stare in our direction. “Are you kidding me?” he said running his hand through his hair. “She stomped across the room and snatched it right out of the tongs, gave me the finger, and left. Crazy broad!” Whoa. I stopped laughing. “Wait a minute, you’re the one standing half-naked (I presume), in the middle of your bedroom holding BBQ tongs, right? Well my friend, then you are the one who should be wearing the crazy label.” “But, I…” he stammered. I put a hand up. “Hold on, I’m not done. I seem to recall you had no problem with the girl who had breast implants, but a little fake hair in your bed and you can’t handle it?” "Well that’s different! It’s not like I’m going to find a boob flopping around in my bed now is it?” “Debatable, I mean we are talking about you and it sounds like there’s probably some flopping going on?” “Ha Ha, very funny,” he said. “Okay, but just so you know it could happen,” I said. “The early implants have been known to explode.” “Explode?” “Ok, more like leak,” I admitted. “Oh Geez,” he said throwing his hands up in the air.
He grabbed a section of my paper and began reading. I tapped the table. “So is it safe to assume you two won’t be seeing each other any more?” He lowered the paper. “Actually with the exception of the hair incident, I really like her! Do you think she’ll give me another chance?” Wow, didn’t see that coming. Maybe my friend isn’t a total Neanderthal after all. “Well more than likely she reacted out of embarrassment. All you can do is apologize and hope for the best,” I told him. “Good,” he said. We sat for a few moments just drinking our coffees. “There are enhancers for our behinds too you know,” I said chuckling. “UGH, please no more,” he begged. “Okay,” I promised. “No more talk of beauty contraptions.”
The Ugly Truth About Women's Restrooms
Why are women’s public restrooms in such awful condition? I know I am not the first, nor will I be the last woman to have this rant, but now that I have a young daughter the subject has loomed larger than ever. It’s perplexing to me because most of the women I know are always cleaning. They clean their homes, they clean up after themselves, they clean up after their husbands, and they clean up after their kids. So what exactly is causing this phenomenon in the women’s restroom? The lack of cleanliness can be appalling.
For this reason, ever since my daughter was potty trained I began to teach her a few basic restroom rules. My daughter by the way has no problem speaking her mind. She will exit a public restroom with a look of disdain and loudly announce that it was the worst, most disgusting bathroom she has ever been in. I don’t find it the least bit embarrassing because unfortunately it’s the ugly truth.
Rule #1 - At a crowded venue never wait (in other words hold it in), until the last minute. You’ll regret it if you do. The lines are always long and the number of stalls limited.After a concert, waiting for what seemed like an eternity, in a line that snaked around the building I finally made it into the actual restroom itself. As I stood waiting I listened for the cues that would signal my turn…a flush, the sound of a latch being drawn back, and then I saw it. A door ajar at the end of the row. It was like a lighthouse with its powerful beacon of light welcoming me. I raced in and that's when I discovered that the lock didn’t work and the door hung slightly off its hinges. My shoes squish and I look down to find the floor covered with water. ICK! At this point I can’t go back out. I’ve already lost my place in line. “Okay,” I tell myself. I can do this. Surely I have enough gumption to handle one bathroom door. So with one arm outstretched I held the door closed, single-handedly unzipped my pants, and reached for the paper. UGH! The paper. I forgot to check the paper! This brings me to rule number two.
Rule #2 – Always check the toilet paper dispenser before committing yourself to a stall. If there is no paper, and you have not closed the stall door you receive an automatic stay in line.Luckily, the fates were shining down upon me that day and there was paper. I don't think I could have been more happy than if I had just won the lottery! Still balancing with my hand on the door I pulled the paper. Tear, rip, tear, rip!!! Is this some sort of sick joke? Why is the toilet paper being rationed??? Who am I, Barbie? I don’t know about the rest of the women out there, but I need at least a few human-sized sheets. Mental note, whoever installs the toilet paper dispensers should be flogged!
Rule #3 – Using the toilet. For this rule there are a few options, a) Learn the art of “hovering.” b) If available use a liner, or c) -Wrap the entire seat in toilet paper (see Rule #2).Back when I worked in the corporate world there was a situation where signs had to be placed on the inside of the stall doors in the women’s restroom. The signs were all the same. “If you sprinkle when you tinkle, please be neat and wipe the seat.” Really? Did grown women, mostly business executives really need this reminder? Not to mention one in nursery rhyme form. I still shake my head in utter disbelief. How exactly does one sprinkle on the seat anyway? Perhaps it's poor thigh muscles or weak knees resulting in a wobbly squat? Maybe this is one question for the TMI (Too Much Information) file. But some women fancied themselves spies of sorts, and went as far as to pretend to be reapplying lipstick so that they could peek into the vacated stall once a person had exited the restroom. Despite these women’s best 007 efforts “the sprinkler” remained a restroom mystery.
So my daughter is petite, she can’t hover yet. From my purse I unfold a paper liner and place it on the seat for her. However, there is one small section not covered and that is exactly where she places her hand to balance herself. “Nooooo,” I yell as if I have just been pitched off a cliff or flung from a rooftop. “Don’t touch the toilet!” “Okay, Mommy,” she says smiling up at me. Oh what’s a poor germaphobe mother to do?
Rule #4 – Never use your hand to flush the toilet. Always maneuver your foot to push the handle.Yes, I tell my daughter, if there is one cardinal rule to remember when using a public restroom it is don’t touch ANYTHING with your HANDS. I teach her how to flush with her foot.Some bathrooms even have toilets that flush automatically, which is a great invention - if the sensors would just work properly. Unfortunately, they all seem to be set on aggressive flushing. I will hear a flush followed by my daughter’s shriek from inside the stall. “What is wrong with this toilet?” she demands. “Why is it flushing before I’m even finished?” I can’t help but giggle. “I don’t know honey,” I reply. Another unsolved restroom mystery.
Rule #5 – Always wash your hands, but before you do, wipe down the counter.What’s with all the water left all over the counters? Are women bathing in the sinks? Washing their delicates? I will never understand why there’s so much water OUT of the sink. My daughter leans in to wash her hands. “Be careful,” I warn her. “Or you’ll get your shirt wet.”Just like some toilets have automatic sensors, so do some sinks. Only sinks seem to have the opposite problem - their sensors are too passive. You have to practice a few karate hand flicks or pretend to be a magician waving a rabbit out of a hat to get the water to turn on. Wave, splash, wave, splash! I have a sneaky suspicion that the sink sensors are installed by the same person who installs the toilet paper.
Rule #6 – After drying your hands, throw the paper in the trash can.C’mon ladies I know we can all do this. It doesn’t take any great feat of athleticism to get a balled piece of paper towel into the trash can. And for the eco-conscious you can totally bypass the paper towels and use the hand dryers. Our local theater had one installed that is unlike any other I have ever used. I truly believe it is equipped with a jet engine. I think the force of the air blowing out of this thing is at least 4 gs (think Top Gun)! It makes the skin on my hand look like liquid, rippling like the waves on a stormy sea. I swear, one day I'm going to stick my face under it just to see how I'll look with a face lift.
Ah, but just like toilet paper, paper towels run out too and there is no hand dryer in sight. I stand and spin the little wheel on the side of the dispenser and nothing emerges. I peer up into the dispenser, my brain not willing to believe that it's empty. Maybe if I just look long enough a sheet of paper will appear. Why not I think? After all I can make water appear like magic. A second or two passes and I review my options. Try to get back in a stall for some toilet paper which just ends up sticking in tiny little pieces all over my hand, flap my hands around like a wounded duck, or (I hope my mother isn't reading this), wipe my hands on my pants.
Rule #7 – When exiting the restroom do not use your hands to push the door open.Remember the cardinal rule? Never touch anything in the restroom with your hands! This includes the door and is especially important now that you have just washed your hands. So using an elbow, forearm, or shoulder you open the door to leave. Inevitably, the man in your life is waiting outside looking impatient. “What took you so long?” he asks. ARGH!
Posted on Skirt.com, August 31, 2009
For this reason, ever since my daughter was potty trained I began to teach her a few basic restroom rules. My daughter by the way has no problem speaking her mind. She will exit a public restroom with a look of disdain and loudly announce that it was the worst, most disgusting bathroom she has ever been in. I don’t find it the least bit embarrassing because unfortunately it’s the ugly truth.
Rule #1 - At a crowded venue never wait (in other words hold it in), until the last minute. You’ll regret it if you do. The lines are always long and the number of stalls limited.After a concert, waiting for what seemed like an eternity, in a line that snaked around the building I finally made it into the actual restroom itself. As I stood waiting I listened for the cues that would signal my turn…a flush, the sound of a latch being drawn back, and then I saw it. A door ajar at the end of the row. It was like a lighthouse with its powerful beacon of light welcoming me. I raced in and that's when I discovered that the lock didn’t work and the door hung slightly off its hinges. My shoes squish and I look down to find the floor covered with water. ICK! At this point I can’t go back out. I’ve already lost my place in line. “Okay,” I tell myself. I can do this. Surely I have enough gumption to handle one bathroom door. So with one arm outstretched I held the door closed, single-handedly unzipped my pants, and reached for the paper. UGH! The paper. I forgot to check the paper! This brings me to rule number two.
Rule #2 – Always check the toilet paper dispenser before committing yourself to a stall. If there is no paper, and you have not closed the stall door you receive an automatic stay in line.Luckily, the fates were shining down upon me that day and there was paper. I don't think I could have been more happy than if I had just won the lottery! Still balancing with my hand on the door I pulled the paper. Tear, rip, tear, rip!!! Is this some sort of sick joke? Why is the toilet paper being rationed??? Who am I, Barbie? I don’t know about the rest of the women out there, but I need at least a few human-sized sheets. Mental note, whoever installs the toilet paper dispensers should be flogged!
Rule #3 – Using the toilet. For this rule there are a few options, a) Learn the art of “hovering.” b) If available use a liner, or c) -Wrap the entire seat in toilet paper (see Rule #2).Back when I worked in the corporate world there was a situation where signs had to be placed on the inside of the stall doors in the women’s restroom. The signs were all the same. “If you sprinkle when you tinkle, please be neat and wipe the seat.” Really? Did grown women, mostly business executives really need this reminder? Not to mention one in nursery rhyme form. I still shake my head in utter disbelief. How exactly does one sprinkle on the seat anyway? Perhaps it's poor thigh muscles or weak knees resulting in a wobbly squat? Maybe this is one question for the TMI (Too Much Information) file. But some women fancied themselves spies of sorts, and went as far as to pretend to be reapplying lipstick so that they could peek into the vacated stall once a person had exited the restroom. Despite these women’s best 007 efforts “the sprinkler” remained a restroom mystery.
So my daughter is petite, she can’t hover yet. From my purse I unfold a paper liner and place it on the seat for her. However, there is one small section not covered and that is exactly where she places her hand to balance herself. “Nooooo,” I yell as if I have just been pitched off a cliff or flung from a rooftop. “Don’t touch the toilet!” “Okay, Mommy,” she says smiling up at me. Oh what’s a poor germaphobe mother to do?
Rule #4 – Never use your hand to flush the toilet. Always maneuver your foot to push the handle.Yes, I tell my daughter, if there is one cardinal rule to remember when using a public restroom it is don’t touch ANYTHING with your HANDS. I teach her how to flush with her foot.Some bathrooms even have toilets that flush automatically, which is a great invention - if the sensors would just work properly. Unfortunately, they all seem to be set on aggressive flushing. I will hear a flush followed by my daughter’s shriek from inside the stall. “What is wrong with this toilet?” she demands. “Why is it flushing before I’m even finished?” I can’t help but giggle. “I don’t know honey,” I reply. Another unsolved restroom mystery.
Rule #5 – Always wash your hands, but before you do, wipe down the counter.What’s with all the water left all over the counters? Are women bathing in the sinks? Washing their delicates? I will never understand why there’s so much water OUT of the sink. My daughter leans in to wash her hands. “Be careful,” I warn her. “Or you’ll get your shirt wet.”Just like some toilets have automatic sensors, so do some sinks. Only sinks seem to have the opposite problem - their sensors are too passive. You have to practice a few karate hand flicks or pretend to be a magician waving a rabbit out of a hat to get the water to turn on. Wave, splash, wave, splash! I have a sneaky suspicion that the sink sensors are installed by the same person who installs the toilet paper.
Rule #6 – After drying your hands, throw the paper in the trash can.C’mon ladies I know we can all do this. It doesn’t take any great feat of athleticism to get a balled piece of paper towel into the trash can. And for the eco-conscious you can totally bypass the paper towels and use the hand dryers. Our local theater had one installed that is unlike any other I have ever used. I truly believe it is equipped with a jet engine. I think the force of the air blowing out of this thing is at least 4 gs (think Top Gun)! It makes the skin on my hand look like liquid, rippling like the waves on a stormy sea. I swear, one day I'm going to stick my face under it just to see how I'll look with a face lift.
Ah, but just like toilet paper, paper towels run out too and there is no hand dryer in sight. I stand and spin the little wheel on the side of the dispenser and nothing emerges. I peer up into the dispenser, my brain not willing to believe that it's empty. Maybe if I just look long enough a sheet of paper will appear. Why not I think? After all I can make water appear like magic. A second or two passes and I review my options. Try to get back in a stall for some toilet paper which just ends up sticking in tiny little pieces all over my hand, flap my hands around like a wounded duck, or (I hope my mother isn't reading this), wipe my hands on my pants.
Rule #7 – When exiting the restroom do not use your hands to push the door open.Remember the cardinal rule? Never touch anything in the restroom with your hands! This includes the door and is especially important now that you have just washed your hands. So using an elbow, forearm, or shoulder you open the door to leave. Inevitably, the man in your life is waiting outside looking impatient. “What took you so long?” he asks. ARGH!
Posted on Skirt.com, August 31, 2009
Confessions of a Foodie
I am a self-proclaimed foodie. I can pour over a menu like it was the next hottest book on the NY Times Best Seller list. Before I go on a trip I research the restaurants in the area, and if the menus are available online I’ll print a copy of them. So yes, basically my itinerary revolves around where and what I’m going to eat.
Not only is the flavor of the food important to me, but so is the presentation. That is why meals in my home are major events. From the tableware to the type of beverage being served. In my opinion all these contribute to the experience of the meal. I have a friend who finds this a bit overwhelming. She is more of a solitary eater. Happy to have a moment to catch a bite of leftover pizza while standing at the kitchen counter. Recently our families spent a week together at her vacation home. The first day we were there I began planning dinner before we had even finished breakfast.
“So what about dinner tonight?” I asked. “We could just do something quick and easy, like spaghetti,” she suggested. Okay, I’ll run to the store after we clean up from breakfast. “No need, there’s pasta and sauce in the pantry.” I wrinkled my nose. “Bottled sauce. What brand?” I questioned. “I’m not sure, probably what ever was on sale.” Uh oh, I thought silently. I walked over to the pantry and assessed the contents. Then I opened the fridge and sighed. “Hmmm, we need to go the grocery store,” I told her. “What? Is the stuff not there?” “No it’s there, but we need garlic, lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, dressing, ground turkey, bread, wine…” I ticked off the list. Her eyes widened. “All that?” she squeaked. “Yes, and maybe some flowers and candles for the table” I added. Beads of perspiration began to break out on her forehead. “We eat on trays in front of the TV,” she stammered. "Well it’s no problem we’ll just move some chairs around so everyone will fit at the table." That’s when I noticed she was clutching the counter. “Are you all right?” I asked. “Buh, buh, buh,” was all she could utter. “Don’t worry,” I assured her. “I didn’t forget about the dessert.”
Despite the difference in our styles, I am happy to say that we survived the week together. I still believe a good meal can bring together family and friends. It’s been that way all through the ages. Food…drink…people. So whether or not you are a foodie, I hope you take some time to enjoy at least one meal together with your loved ones. Happy eating!
Posted on Skirt.com, October 29, 2009
Not only is the flavor of the food important to me, but so is the presentation. That is why meals in my home are major events. From the tableware to the type of beverage being served. In my opinion all these contribute to the experience of the meal. I have a friend who finds this a bit overwhelming. She is more of a solitary eater. Happy to have a moment to catch a bite of leftover pizza while standing at the kitchen counter. Recently our families spent a week together at her vacation home. The first day we were there I began planning dinner before we had even finished breakfast.
“So what about dinner tonight?” I asked. “We could just do something quick and easy, like spaghetti,” she suggested. Okay, I’ll run to the store after we clean up from breakfast. “No need, there’s pasta and sauce in the pantry.” I wrinkled my nose. “Bottled sauce. What brand?” I questioned. “I’m not sure, probably what ever was on sale.” Uh oh, I thought silently. I walked over to the pantry and assessed the contents. Then I opened the fridge and sighed. “Hmmm, we need to go the grocery store,” I told her. “What? Is the stuff not there?” “No it’s there, but we need garlic, lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, dressing, ground turkey, bread, wine…” I ticked off the list. Her eyes widened. “All that?” she squeaked. “Yes, and maybe some flowers and candles for the table” I added. Beads of perspiration began to break out on her forehead. “We eat on trays in front of the TV,” she stammered. "Well it’s no problem we’ll just move some chairs around so everyone will fit at the table." That’s when I noticed she was clutching the counter. “Are you all right?” I asked. “Buh, buh, buh,” was all she could utter. “Don’t worry,” I assured her. “I didn’t forget about the dessert.”
Despite the difference in our styles, I am happy to say that we survived the week together. I still believe a good meal can bring together family and friends. It’s been that way all through the ages. Food…drink…people. So whether or not you are a foodie, I hope you take some time to enjoy at least one meal together with your loved ones. Happy eating!
Posted on Skirt.com, October 29, 2009
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