Why I (temporarily) Have No Appetite

If I were the type to believe in signs and portents, I would have gone right back to bed after getting a mouthful of spoiled milk with my Cheerios. Blech. And don't give me any crap about not sniffing the milk. It has been a long time since I have had a carton of milk long enough to worry about spoilage. Plus, it really seems like organic milk has a longer shelf-life after opening. Regardless, I'm not the superstitious type, so I soldiered on.

I went to Barnes & Noble on Friday and for the first time in I don't know how long, I left empty-handed. I went specifically for Dhalgren, but B&N failed me. In fact, it failed to have any Delaney at all. I was bereft. Then, to cap it all off, there wasn't one other book that interested me enough to be an acceptable sub. That's right, people. Nothing in the store appealed to me. How appalling. But honestly, I'm not that surprised. I don't know about you, but if I'm looking for a specific book, I'm usually hard-pressed to choose something else if my original choice is unavailable. I wanted weird scifi/fantasy, dammit! Not that there isn't tons of that out there, I simply wasn't up to the task of finding it. The happy/duh ending to the story? I found the book at a different B&N on Saturday/my dad (of course) had a copy sitting on the shelf. I even had the thought on Friday: Gee, I'll bet my dad has this book. I should really check with him first before shelling out. I forgot that amazingly quickly. I'm considering returning the copy I bought for some credit, and taking my dad's copy. He said that he never managed to get through the book, so it wouldn't matter to him how long I keep it (likely forever). So far, I'm not having that much trouble with the book, but I can be partial to weird-ass scifi (like Barker) so I think it will be easier for me than for my dad. I'm going to attempt a review when I finish, but that may be a while. And if what I've read so far is anything to go by, the review may also be incomprehensible.

Weather related comment: I like that it is warmer, but as I'm currently short in the summer shoe area, it's not as much fun as it would be if I had fucking sandals. I'd be perfectly happy (OK, maybe not perfectly) if the weather stayed cooler until I can do some shopping.

Ladies, is it just me...

Or does the idea of having sex while dealing with a yeast infection sound completely unsexy? Even using a 1-day treatment, I probably wouldn't feel fully comfortable having dick in me until all the squish and mess was cleared up. And speaking on behalf of the fellas, I can't imagine that the idea of having your little soldier inside the quarantine zone would make for a long-lasting session. I mean, do you know what the discharge looks like? Ugh.

No, I don't have these thoughts pop into my head randomly. I was doing something at work which dealt with the idea of yeasty sex and couldn't help but contemplate the idea. Then again, it's been long enough since I've had sex, that I might not care what's going on down south.

Unwanted Gifts

Some people have a knack for finding the perfect gift. Others have a seemingly innate ability to always find a twofer deal on Triscuits. Then there are the people who can go to a city and find a fantastic restaurant. All of those skills? gifts? talents? would be wonderful to have. Unfortunately for me, I do not possess anything of the sort. No, my knack is far less useful, and far more disgusting. It would seem that I have the disturbing ability to choose the one of the two ladies' rooms which someone is shitting in.

You heard me. I've been to the bathroom twice this morning, once in each bathroom, and both times someone was taking a righteous (stinky) poo. I know that twice isn't a trend, but it happened to me at least 3 times yesterday out of the half-a-dozen (or so) trips I made to the ladies' room.

On a slightly related note, I also noticed that I manage to talk about poop pretty much everyday. I don't have a baby, or an old person, to take care of. There really is no excuse for it.

Girls Are Nasty

I went to Willow Grove Mall this Saturday with a friend of mine. We made a pit stop at the ladies' room and I was forcibly reminded of how disgusting women can be.

For starters, there was some glop on the toilet seat. I'm not especially squemish, so I grabbed a wad of TP and wiped it off. As I turned around to do my business, I happened to glance in the metal fixture attached to the wall - you know, the thing that holds the TP, sanitary item disposal, etc? Yeah, in the slot I imagined was supposed to hold seat covers, I saw a bloody tampon. Nasty just about covers it.

Now I ask you; how hard would it have been to either flush the damn thing, or to wrap it in some TP and place in the designated container for sanitary items? The sanitary disposal was clearly marked and was even lined with one of those small brown bags.

Women like to complain that men are nasty, dirty pigs. After working in a restaurant and having to clean both the mens' and womens' restrooms, I can say with a degree of authority that women are far nastier, at least when it comes to potty time, than men.

Women like to hover because many of them imagine that there is some flesh-dissolving bacterium lying in wait, ready to climb up her poo-hole and melt her insides. This hovering can occasionally cause a few drops of urine to land on the toilet seat. Wipe it off. Women complain about this type of thing quite frequently, but no one is ever the culprit. We're all victims in the potty game.

Because of behaviors like these, I am less inclined to agree automatically with women when they are complaining about men being grosser than women. Sure, the guy in question might be a pig, but what did the stall look like the last time she went to the bathroom?