Wednesday, May 21, 2014


While at opposite ends of the political spectrum, I'm glad Feminists and Nazis never got up and running at the same time. Can you imagine a world of Feminazis? Only blonde haired women would be allowed equal rights.

Fortunately we kept Feminists who tend to be mindful beings, and shunned Nazis with what I can only image as a Cher and Dion "As If" look.

Blogging the depths of the abyss, 

Monday, June 17, 2013

Handicap Stalls

As a heavy sleeper, to keep my body from wetting the bed, my elementary school subconscious played out dreams in which I was in a giant room full of bathroom stalls. ALL of the toilets were dirty, overflowing, broken, in use, etc. I can remember several of the locations--locker rooms, a forest, schools, and houses. These images of toilets I couldn't use were a way to get my body to wake up and go to the bathroom. I still have them.

I'm quite picky about public restrooms, thanks to my mother and my dreams. If a stall isn't quite clean enough, I'll go to another. And, no, I won't use a stall that hasn't been flushed. Yuck. I still haven't mastered those stupid seat covers [they always fall in or refuse to tear properly], so I just use TP on the seat. As for the preferred stall, I've noticed over the years that I definitely have a preference: Handicap Stalls.

The best part about Handicap Stalls? I don't have to do that weird back-bending Matrix move to open the door and avoid brushing my leg against the lip of the toilet. Furthermore, there's space to set down or hang up my things, they're occasionally cleaner, sometimes there are in-stall sinks, and I just feel better having more tiles to stare at. [Side-note: I occasionally space out or daydream in the bathroom, and end up spending twice as long in there, staring at tiles probably.]

Men, you probably could care less because you rarely encounter a stall, let alone a handicap stall. However, ladies, if you're not using the Handicap Stall you should. But don't tell anyone I told you.

There are several types of people I've observed using handicap stalls. I will list them in order of frequency:
  1. Everyone--all of the other stalls were full, no choice
  2. Overweight women
  3. Elderly women
  4. Women with kids 
  5. Women who hate brushing against the toilet
  6. Handicap people
That last one is quite rare. I'm not sure I can recall ever seeing a handicap person entering a Handicap Stall. Perhaps an elderly woman with a walker, but that's it. So if you're wondering if I feel guilty about using the double/triple-wide stall, no. No, I do not. Why? Because no one has ever truly needed it while I was in one.

While looking for a photo of Handicap Stalls, I found that many other people rather agree with me. I also remembered that Tessa Altman in "Suburgatory" uses the Handicap Stall as her own hangout place, and once to sleep in.

I'd like to thank places that actually provide legit-sized bathrooms for everyone else [#1-5]. I couldn't poo it without you!*

Blogging the depths of the abyss, 

*I'm sorry for that. I couldn't help myself!

Monday, May 20, 2013

50 Ways to Lose Your Roomie [pt II]

I'm definitely not OCD, but I do not appreciate my things being moved. I don't like dishes, socks, boyfriends, etc. that aren't mine appearing in my room, trash sorted into the wrong bins [it seems so easy, yet people just don't care], or my clothes being worn.

The last one in particular. My clothes stay looking nice because I don't A. make a mess like a 3 year old, B. sweat profusely, or C. wash my clothes excessively [because of the lack of A and B]. In my imagination, the day my clothes are borrowed happens to be the day they get the rib dinner with extra sauce. No napkins. Why? Well, because they've got this new skirt/napkin.

One could just ask the purloiner to stop, but where's the fun in that? Instead, I considered alternative routes to recommend you go down in order to deter a roommate, parent, sibling, or friend from wearing your clothing.

1. Spray everything with skunk scent.
Pros Your roomie will no longer want to borrow anything because all of your clothing [and probably your entire place] will stink the stench of a thousand deaths.
Cons No one will want to come near you. Ever.

2. Buy clothing inappropriate for your roomie's body type OR pieces you've heard them express disdain for.
Pros The clothing-snatcher might take a piece or two, but you no longer care because your closet is full of awful trash.
Cons You'll probably look awful in your new wardrobe.

3. Start borrowing all of their clothing. Think large-scale: excessive layering, use the living room to create Fort Vestments, stuff a new mattress, or pillows, blankets, and sheets made from clothes. Then spill a lot of pickled beet juice and tuna on the layers.
Pros You can hint or suggest that it might be best if neither of you borrowed the other's clothing to prevent further spillage or clothing miss-use. After all, it's easier to just not borrow than it is to remember silly guidelines such as not sewing padded bras together to make an amazing face-cupping pillow.
Cons None. Unless your roomie is crazy and doesn't care that you ruined all of their clothes!

Blogging the depths of the abyss, 

Sunday, May 12, 2013

Happy Mother's Day

Like many mammals, I love my mother [or mutti, as I called her to the chagrin of my 2nd year German teacher]. I have many memories--some bad, some good, and the rest I've forgotten.

My mutti when she was around my age.
For Mother's Day I'd like to tell you one of my favorite recollections of my mother.

Despite the driving age in my home state being 14, my parents wouldn't let me drive. In high school I had school friends, but no afternoon, weekend, hangout, phone call, or cruising around friends. This meant I read a lot, had nothing to be grounded from, and mostly hung out with my mom cooking or watching Lifetime and Hallmark movies.

But when it came to boys, I had a crush on the beautiful ginger son of my 5th grade daycare teacher. He was three years older than me, but only a grade ahead thanks to homeschooling. Anyway, my awesome mom became my cruising friend. She helped a daughter out.

That's right. I had no wheels of my own, so on the way home from church my awesome mom would do drive-bys past his house. It was fun sometimes to see his car at home, but other times she'd drive really slow and shout, "Is he home!?"

Thank goodness for my mom. I'm way too apathetic and lazy now to ever do something like that on my own,  but it was fun when I was 15.

Happy Mother's Day to my sweet, weird, funny mom who has cooking, baking, and sewing skills that I look forward to every time I go home!

Blogging the depths of the abyss, 

Monday, May 6, 2013

Wink Wink!

When walking down a long hallway, sidewalk, stairwell, etc., it's always hard for me to figure out when the right moment comes to make eye contact.



Nope.. this is not happening. Not at all... Keep walking, eyes averted.

I'm so used to averting my eyes, or suddenly getting a text [ha], or needing water, or whatever, that I was thrown off-guard by an ex-coworker who would not only make eye contact, but also wink.

It was semi creepy.

I should mention, the ex-coworker is a woman. Every time I see her she still has a giant smile and gives me a big ol' wink. I feel like she should've been a basketball or volleyball coach.

People who wink are strange. Women who wink are just sort of creepy. I always feel like we've got some dead body hidden somewhere, or some other dark secret, and she's winking at me conspiratorially.

Blogging the depths of the abyss,