Friday, February 29, 2008
It's Such a Girl Thang...
Don't know what was with this morning, but I got like eight emails that made my head explode with possible blogs. Yesterday, Rosy and I submitted the final translation of RALLY CAPS to the Italian Publisher - inhale -exhale. So not in the mood to get deep today...Jordan's home with a really bad cold, he's got that infamous "redness" that only really strong colds provoke and the whitest face I've seen since my husband saw me in my purple dress (knowing that he ain't gonna be at that wedding with me) (There, you've been mentioned twice in two days.) THANK YOU!!!!! All I needed was the perfect excuse to have to stay home from my nightmare pre-schoolers from hell. The scary news is that I have two more middle school groups every Friday afternoon starting today, I'm breaking out the black leather, whips and chains.
The first email I got was from a mom from the CI CIRCLE who lives in Seattle, writing to tell me that she ordered RALLY CAPS from her PUBLIC LIBRARY!!! Don't buy the book, make your PUBLIC LIBRARY buy it so that more children mainstream and deaf have easier access to it. She also told me that 8 years ago she went to Australia to elope and today is her SECOND anniversary!!! Now, I know you all are smart enough to figure out why that is...
Second of all, Ocean is very deep. *smile* I need some time to digest her stuff before I blog on that...
Now, this was such an AMAZING email: about six months ago my cousin Andy, a very successful litigator who has worked in New York City and Baltimore decided to open his own practice, which takes serious balls when you have a strong and successful job. Risk-takers are rare in this world...yet, without them, the USA would not be the worldwide powerhouse that it is and AMERICANS have this innate quality inspired by generations of American dream-seekers. Italians can only dream of America because even when it is offered to them, they still do not know how to grab the opportunity. Too many years in the house with their moms washing their clothes and cooking spaghetti for them.
Paotie and Paotie lovers (not Paotie's lovers *my exclusive*), Andrew M. Dansicker (my cousin and my Pop's shining star)set a precedent in the state of Maryland regarding the use of marijuana for medicinal purposes in one of his ACLU cases that he has always taken...
*He also devotes substantial time to pro bono matters relating to important criminal and constitutional law issues, including successfully representing a group of Eastern Shore high school students forced to submit to illegal drug testing, a defendant whose farm was improperly forfeited by the government, a farmer accused of felony drug charges based on his use of marijuana for medicinal purposes, a woman charged with various crimes for sending "harassing" emails, and a group of blind voters denied the ability to cast their ballot in a confidential manner*
Check out his informative website here and his blog. The blog is not very sexual, he is afterall a professional, but he does handle sexual harrassment cases, as well. He's a Scorpio just like me *wink*. LOVE MY COUSIN!!!!
Next...Rhonda sent me one of those emails that the girlz send to all the other girlz, but it was in Italian, so now I MUST translate it for all the LADIEZ!!!! Because it had me literally "Peeing in my Pants!" (yeah, pun intended)
*Why do women spend so much time in the restroom?*
The big secret of all women and bathrooms is that ever since a woman was a girl, our moms took us to the potty, cleaned the toilet seat, covered the seat nicely with toiletpaper and then explained, "NEVER, NEVER sit on the toilet seat!" Then, she revealed "the position" that consisted in balancing yourself on the ring as if you were sitting on it but WITHOUT actually touching that thing.
"The position" is one of life's first lessons for a little girl, very important and necessary, that will remain with a girl for the rest of her life.
But still today, as adults, "the position" is terribly difficult to maintain when your bladder is about to explode.
When "you have to go" in a public restroom, you find yourself in such a long line of women that you think Brad Pitt (or Patrick Dempsey) must be sittin' on that toilet bowl waiting in that bathroom.
So, you sit and wait nicely, like a good girl, smiling knowingly at all of the other women waiting, they too with their legs and arms crossed. That would be the official position "I'm about to pee in my pants."
Finally, it's your turn, but suddenly a mother with "the adorable little girl who just can't hold it in" arrives and takes advantage of that innate maternal instinct to pass ahead of all of the other women.
At that point, you start looking under the bathroom doors to make sure there are legs.
All are occupied. Finally one opens and you charge the person coming out.
You enter and realize the door doesn't lock. (it never does);
It doesn't matter.
You hang your purse on the hook on the back of the door, and if there isn't one (there never is), you inspect the area around the toiletbowl...the floor is full of unidentifiable liquids so ya can't put your pocketbook on the floor, you must sling it around your neck...and it is REALLY heavy, filled with things you never use, but MIGHT need, one never knows...
Returning to our discussion of the door...considering that it doesn't lock, you need to assume the "block the door" pee position, holding it with one hand struggling to "assume the position"...
Ahhhhhhhhh...finally...At this point, your legs start shaking...because you are suspended in mid-air, with your knees bent, pants pulled down and blocking your circulation, your arm locked desperately trying to hold the door shut and a ten pound bag hanging around your neck.
You would really like to sit on that toilet, but you didn't have time to give it the wipedown or to cover it with tp. Your head is saying that nothing bad would happen if I could just sit on that bowl, but the voice of your mother cuts in with a resonating, "Don't EVER sit on a public toilet!", so you remain in "the position," but for a minor error in logistics a teeny tiny splash gets ya right on your socks!! You're fortunate not to get your shoes wet.
Holding "the position" requires great concentration.
To get the situation you are living out of your head, you start looking for the toilet paper...but,
Damn! There isn't any...! (EVER).
So, you start praying hard that in that ten pound bag slung around your neck there could be a sliver of a piece of kleenex, but in order to look for it, you need to let go of the door, Ya think about that for a split second, but you have no choice.
And as soon as you let go of that door, someone pushes it and you have to stop that person with a sharp move, otherwise everyone will see you half-naked, suspended in mid-air with your pants down.
So you SCREAM - "SOMEONE'S-IN-HEEEEEEEEEEERE!!!!" and you keep on pushing that door with your free hand and at that point you think it's a given that everyone else waiting for a free bathroom heard your scream so you can let go of the door, unafraid, no one would DARE open that door again (in this type of thing, we women RESPECT each other)
so you start searching for a piece of kleenex, you'd like to use a couple, but they might be needed again.
In cases such as this, you settle for one - you just never know.
At this exact moment, the automatic light shuts off, but in a cubicle this tiny, it can't be too hard to find the switch. You turn on the light with the hand holding the kleenex, because the other hand is holding up your pants, count the remaining seconds until you can get outta there, sweating becasue you have your heavy wool coat on that you had nowhere to hang and because in places like these it's always suffocatingly hot.
The swelling lump forming on your head caused by the blow from the door, your throbbing neckpain due to the weight of your bag, the sweat dripping down your forehead causing your makeup to run, the drops on your socks...Thoughts torment you of your mom who would be so, so embarrassed if she could see you like this; because her butt never once touched a public toiletseat, because really "you never know how many diseases you can get from a toilet."
But the episode still isn't over...you are exhausted and when you stand up, you can't feel your legs, you get dressed quickly and most importantly flush the toilet!
If the flush don't flush, you would prefer to remain in the bathroom, so embarrassing!
Finally you go to wash your hands and all around the sink it's filled with wetness, so you have nowhere to put your bag. You sling it around your neck. You can't figure out how the water works with all the automatic sensors, so you start touching everything until it finally works and you can wash your hands hunched over and struggling not to dip your bag in there. Of course there are no paper towels so you wipe your hands on your pants because you just can't afford to waste another kleenex.
You leave the bathroom passing next to all of the other women still waiting with their legs crossed and in those moments, you just can't give that spontaneous smile,
conscious of the fact that you have passed an eternity inside that bathroom.
You're lucky if you manage to get outta there without the dreaded piece of toiletpaper attached to your shoe or even worse your zipper down.
You walk outside and see your boyfriend who had finished his business quite a while ago.
"Why'd you take so long?" He asks you in an irritated manner.
"There was a line," I say.
And this is the reason why women go to the bathroom in groups, for solidarity, because one holds your bag and coat, another holds the door and the other passes you kleenex under the door;
this way, it's much simpler and quicker because then...
you only have to concentrate on maintaining "the position."
And your dignity.
Happy FRIDAY!!! Yeah, I'm going back to Happy Hour with my girlfriends!!!