Things I Don't Want to See on Facebook (or Ever)

I recently read an article where the author was suggesting that mothers are the worst offenders of TMI on social media. I laughed because it was kind of true, though I wasn't 100% in agreement. 

Until now. 

Earlier this week a friend posted a picture of her son on his little person toilet, trying to poop. To add insult to injury, she posted a caption, trying to make it seem cute.  NEWS FLASH - it's not cute!!! It's never going to be cute because it's horrifying! It's your little kid taking a dump. Why would anyone (but you) want to see that? 

Moms, let me save YOU some time and YOUR CHILD some dignity - DO NOT post pictures of them expelling anything from their bodies. 

Trust me - NOBODY wants to see that. Ever. Ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER. 

Ever. 

I'm Weird but I'm Ok With It

I recently realized two things:

1. When I wave at someone who lets me merge in traffic, I say "Thank You" out loud as I'm waving. I think it's karmic insurance - if they somehow don't see me wave, the universe will hear me say "Thank You" and therefore, I'm covered. 

2. When I see a squirrel in the street and he safely makes it to where he's going, I say out loud "Good job buddy!" Everyone needs a little encouragement, right? 

Issue #2: Leaving the Cabinets Open? Wrong!!!

At work today, I walked into the kitchen to rinse out my coffee cup and I almost skewered my right eyeball on the open cabinet directly over the sink. Can someone please explain to me why people (men) leave cabinets and drawers open in the kitchen? I've encountered this time and time again and I can't figure it out. 

Admittedly, I'm a little OCD so I get why this bothers me. What I can't figure out is why people (men) do it. Are they just that lazy? Do they genuinely not care? Do they even know they're doing it? Or maybe it's a weird kind of role reversal - like women who leave the toilet seat up when they leave the bathroom, maybe people (men) are doing it to make accessing the dishes and silverware that much easier for us. 

Regardless of the reason, I would like to formally request that people (men) take the extra nanosecond to close the cabinet or drawer they've just used. I promise, it won't kill you. 

(While we're on the subject of formal requests, I'd also like to ask people (men) to hit the "Clear/Cancel" button on the microwave when you've stopped it short of the full time. It absolutely drives me to drink when I see ":03" flashing next time I go to use the microwave.) 

Why are Bananas so Stubborn?

Have you noticed how difficult it is to peel a banana? And why has this only come about in the last decade? It's as if bananas are now bred with extra thick peels. 

Every morning when I want to eat one, I have to first make a small incision to get it started. Otherwise, I just keep pulling at the stem with no success, and when I finally do get it open the top is complete mush. What gives?!   


                                                                                          

The List

Am I the only one with an actual list of words that I deem unacceptable to use? Every time I tell someone that I hate a certain word, they look at me like I just told them I joined a polygamist sect. 

Number one on The List: Moist. Urf. I seriously HATE. THIS. WORD!!!!!! If you have to describe a cake, please says it's delicious, fantastic, delectable, superior, yummy, dope. Anything but 'moist'. 

Number two on The List: Sleeve. You're puzzled by this, I can tell. Allow me to explain:

When I was much younger, I was watching a nightly news program discussing the AIDS epidemic and how to prevent it (this was the mid '80's). They were going on and on about the necessity of condoms to keep the disease from spreading. Then my Dad came home from work and sat down to watch tv with me. Trying to act all grown up and interested in what the news was saying, I asked him what a condom was. And without missing a beat (god bless him) he said "It's a rubber sleeve that goes on a man's penis during sex." Cue mortification. From that point on, 'sleeve' was out. 

Number three on The List: Lube. I think that speaks for itself. 

Others, in no particular order:

Insert
Flaccid
Panties
Utilize
Dong (I actually played that against my Mom in Words with Friends recently and I thought I was going to die)
Moist - did I already mention that?  

Warning - Soap Box Tirade Ahead

Did you know that gay men cannot donate blood? I wasn't aware of this until the other day when a friend pointed it out to me. And I was furious. 

So I did some research and apparently in the 80's, the FDA put a lifetime ban on gay men donating blood. This came about after something like 10,000 hemophiliacs contracted HIV from blood transfusions. While that is unbelievably tragic, I think it is equally as tragic to consider the number of people who have died because there wasn't a blood type match found quickly enough. The World Health Organization (WHO) says directly on their website:

"Blood transfusion saves lives and improves health, but many patients requiring transfusion do not have timely access to safe blood. The need for blood transfusion may arise at any time in both urban and rural areas. The unavailability of blood has led to deaths and many patients suffering from ill-health."

To add insult to injury, sluts, whores, slutty whores, and generally promiscuous women can donate with minimal restrictions. Because the blood is tested for a plethora of diseases - including HIV. Let me repeat that - the blood is tested for HIV. So why in the hell can't gay men donate? Even if they are considered (by some) to be at a higher risk, their blood would still be tested. 

In 2013, we have technologies that allow cars to park themselves, vacuums to run on their own, lasers to correct our vision, and an International Space Station orbiting the earth for Christ's sake. Can it really be that difficult to design a comprehensive blood test which would allow any willing person to donate? 

We live in a scary world where bad things happen every day. I just wish we also lived in a world where any human being who wanted to make a difference would be given that opportunity. 

Laugh it Out

Sometimes I'm just crabby. And when I feel like my day is spiraling into permanent Negative Nancy territory, sometimes it's hard to cheer me up. 

Until now. 

Damn You Auto Correct (damnyouautocorrect.com) makes me laugh so hard I come dangerously close to falling out of my chair. This morning, I was laughing so hard I went into the 'ugly cry'. If you need some serious laugh therapy, go to the website and just read through it for 5 minutes. I guarantee it will cure you. 

My other go-to is Someecards.com.  Some are genuinely raunchy and disturbing, but most of them are so brutally honest I can't help but laugh. Like this one my friend sent to me yesterday:

(you're laughing because this is exactly how you feel when you stop for someone to cross the street!)

Fred Rogers - A National Treasure

The older I get, the more I appreciate how awesome Mister Rogers was. Here's a little reminder in case you forgot. 

Well That's a New One

Adding to the list of things I never thought I'd have to say: 

Don't wash your dishes in the bathroom sink.*

I'm still trying to figure out why, in an office building, you would EVER need to take your dirty dishes into the public bathroom. I'm 1,000,000% sure your office has, at the very least, a kitchenette with running water. 



*there is only one situation I can think of where it would be acceptable to wash your dishes in the bathroom - after a natural disaster, when most of your kitchen has been destroyed and you're basically living amidst the rubble of what was your house. 

Or maybe after a zombie apocalypse. 

Marketing 101 (aka Cartoon Bears and Cannibalism)

As disturbing as it might be, I don't have a DVR (yes, I'm a dinosaur). So I actually watch a decent amount of commercials. There are two right now that I find exceptionally disturbing: Charmin and Cinnamon Toast Crunch. 


The Charmin commercials have bothered me for years. Who wants to see cartoon bears talk about the finer details of wiping your ass so as not to leave anything behind? And to illustrate the point, they show the little kid bear with pieces of toilet paper stuck to his ass. Um...not ok. And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, they make the tag line "We all go. Why not enjoy the go?" Seriously, I just urfed. Charmin people - I implore you to hire a new marketing firm. 

The other, more recent commercial is for Cinnamon Toast Crunch. I couldn't even tell you what the general message is because I'm so disturbed by the animated cereal square that eats the other piece of cereal. Since when did showcasing cannibalism become effective at selling cereal?! 

The "M" Word

A lot of people don't like the "C" word. Me? I don't like the "M" word. Moist. (Urf. I don't even like typing it.)

It seems, though, I'm not alone in my hatred. Solidarity, baby.

http://www.buzzfeed.com/hunterschwarz/why-moist-is-the-worst-word-ever-6zgv

Bitchy Resting Face

For years I've been trying to explain to (usually) complete strangers that I'm not angry, upset, sad, or in a bad mood - that's just my normal resting face. 

If I had a nickel for every time someone said "Smile!", "What's wrong?", "Why aren't you having a good time?", "C'mon, life can't be that bad!", I'd be a freaking billionaire. 

And then I heard about this video that explains "Bitchy Resting Face". And it's the most brilliant thing I've ever seen. 

If you are, or know, someone who is constantly asking other people what's wrong - please watch this video. I assure you, those of us with BRF are completely fine and don't need some weirdo trying to cheer us up. If you have some compelling need to make sure others are always happy, go be a clown. 

I Plumb

Over the weekend, I installed a new toilet. In my bathroom. All by myself. And I didn't cry once.

I'm Expecting a Flood of Wedding Invitations!

I was raised to believe that everyone is equal - regardless of race, sex, religion, ability, hair color, grammar usage, or sexual preference.

I was so convinced of these basic human rights that in 7th grade I challenged Mike Sturgeon to a Battle of the Sexes, to prove that women are just as capable as men. I don't remember who was declared the overall winner, but I do recall that I fractured his wrist when we were arm wrestling (I pulled an "Over the Top" move. Thank you Sylvester Stallone). My convictions only grew from there.

Over the past couple of years, I've heard stories of same sex couples who weren't allowed into hospital rooms to see their partners because they weren't 'family'; or of surviving partners being charged insanely high inheritance taxes because they weren't legally considered a 'surviving spouse'. Can you even imagine the emotional damage that would cause? When I hear such horrific things, I always imagine myself in their shoes and it just breaks my heart.

I can't understand why the government has ANY say when it comes to love. Love is just love.

Arrogant politicians playing "God" disgust me. (I'm still looking for an island I can move to where I can be my own government - recommendations are welcome!)

So yesterday, when the Supreme Court ruled that the Defense of Marriage Act was unconstitutional, and then also dismissed the appeal for Prop 8 making it legal for same sex marriages in California, I was almost speechless. Elation, awe, pure joy - pick a synonym for 'happy' and I felt it. Not just because it was the right thing to do, because now ALL of my friends can experience the joy of marriage and all that comes with it.

It seems like the fight to legalize same sex marriage nationwide is picking up momentum. I hope that momentum continues and ultimately results in marriage being considered just that - marriage. Not gay marriage, not straight marriage - just marriage.

I thank the Supreme Court for doing the right thing. And I urge everyone to get involved in the fight, so that one day this will be a thing of the past, and everyone can feel safe in their love.

'What's That Bewitching Scent You're Wearing?'

It's public bathroom air freshener.

Am I the only one who sees a serious flaw in the decision to put the auto spray air freshener just above the towel dispenser? I've been sprayed twice now and I don't think the eau de parfum of the 3rd floor ladies' bathroom quite goes with the scent I usually wear.

I feel like I need to put a disclaimer on my office door so people don't think I voluntarily smell like this.

Urf.

I ♥ Public Transportation

http://www.buzzfeed.com/copyranter/meanwhile-on-the-subway

I once heard a story about a friend who threw up in her purse on the subway. Kinda bummed that it didn't make this list.

Never Ever Shake a Co-Worker

It's tempting, though.

And there are days (like today) where I'm weighing the options - punch someone in the mouth to get them to shut up, or close my door and do nothing.

I know that physical violence is frowned upon by HR. But it can be extremely effective. Just like Duct Tape.

Глобальное господство

People in Russia read this blog. I also have readers in Alaska. Who knew?

Two steps closer to global domination.

Oh No She Didn't!!!

Someone recently told me about a uniquely horrifying experience she had and I just have to share because it's so unbelievable. This is what happened:

She was in the bathroom at work, headed to the sink. There was a woman in another stall having, shall we say, "issues". And in order to mask the noise of said "issues", the woman started singing gospel songs.

I have several thoughts on this.

First - WTF?

Second - Why didn't she just employ the courtesy flush?

Third - Can you really sing and shit at the same time? I should probably be impressed with such a talent, but honestly I'm just mortified.

Fourth - What is the appropriate protocol in that situation? Run like hell? Pretend nothing is happening? Sing along?

Fifth -  Wouldn't beatboxing or some kind of rap music be more effective at disguising that?

Sixth - Would Jesus be offended that you used gospel music in such a disgraceful way?

Schmu S Airlines - Grab Your Knot!!!

In May 2012 I wrote about a promotional offer I received from an airline, where I was turned down from redeeming that offer because I was single. That was almost a year ago.

In the mail yesterday I received an urgent letter from said airline - reminding me to redeem the promo and get my 2 free tickets.

Seeing as I'm still single, that could be a little difficult. But hey, thanks for driving home the point Schmu S Airlines - you're fantastic!!!!!

You Did What?! O.M.G.

The other night I was having dinner with some friends and we got to reminiscing about one friend's hysterical mishaps in life. She is the poster child for "Why does this happen to me?". One of my favorite stories goes like this:

She had to get a drug test for a new job she was starting. She was already running late when she realized she had to poop and, unfortunately, the testing facility was in an industrial part of town - there was nowhere to stop first. So she gets to the appointment and goes into the bathroom to pee in the cup. And without intending to, leaves a not-so-little bonus prize. Knowing she couldn't flush the toilet, she panicked and didn't know what to do. So she walked out of the bathroom and told the woman conducting the test, "Sorry, I guess my morning coffee kicked in."

Classic.

It's like watching a horror movie, waiting for the scary clown to jump out of the closet

I've really come to dread that split second of required mental preparation as I push open a public bathroom stall door. Because let's be honest - you really have no idea what you might encounter.

Testing. Testing, One Two. Is this thing on????

I would like to reiterate some extremely important points which were made previously in this blog.

1 - The only thing you should ever take into the bathroom is yourself. No food. No drinks. No Phone.

Let me repeat that - No Phone. Ever.

I'm feeling kinda feisty in my old age, and I just might make an example of someone the next time it happens. Watch out.

2 - The left lane is the fast lane. It's not up to you to set my speed in the left lane - let the cops take care of that. If I'm up your ass, just move over. Problem solved.

Bob Ross - Painter, Teacher, and Motivational Speaker

Let's Pretend We're in the Witness Protection Program

I firmly believe that anonymity in the bathroom is essential. Here's why:

Let's say I'm in there and someone else is a couple stalls down, doing what can only be described as nuclear weapons testing. While I'm battling my stage fright and horror, that person heads to the sink. As she's washing her hands, someone she knows walks in and says "Hi Betty, how are you?" Not only have I been scarred for life, now I know who to thank for that. I will never look at Betty the same. Ever.

I would rather no exchange at all, but if you must acknowledge someone, keep it at "Hi." Or wave.

Parents Say the Darndest Things

I acknowledge that I will likely offend some people with this post, so if you're a parent that talks about your child incessantly, you may want to stop reading right now.

I don't have kids yet, so admittedly I can't relate to the immense pride parents have in their kid(s). But I do know the feeling of being a co-worker to people who are genuinely incapable of talking about anything except their children.

Unless you're a close friend, I gotta tell you I sincerely do not care about your kids, your personal life, your marriage woes, your kid's marriage woes, or what you did over the weekend. And I'm not sure why you think I do care, because I DIDN'T ASK YOU. Nope, you just volunteered your entire life story and I have no choice but to listen to you ramble on about Junior's struggles in school and the detailed conversations you've had about it with his teachers, guidance counselors, pastor, and dog.

Here's what baffles me the most - when you're rambling on incessantly about your daughter's boyfriend's family issues and I'm looking at my computer screen and furiously typing, I'm not sure how you think that I'm even the tiniest bit interested. What about that says "Yes, tell me more!"?

To all of the over-sharers out there: please do not mistake my obligatory feigned interest for genuine must-have-every-little-morsel-of-information interest. I promise you, it really is impossible for me to care less.