Friday, July 9, 2010

Ruminations

One.
Somehow I got on the mailing list for REI. I’m not sure how someone who can’t sleep without a noise machine and who shrieks when her husband ups the thermostat to a balmy 78 degrees would enjoy actually roughing it. But I’m positively captivated by the catalog. It’s colorful and glossy and I want to own each and every camping stove and chair (there are two-footed chairs, chairs that act as loveseats, and chairs with supercharged color names like “electric blue” – how can I resist?). I gaze admirably at the taunt models sporting Patagonia tees and shorts and trick myself into thinking I could be them if I would only order that fleece, and oh, maybe the Teva sandals. (Forget the working out part.)


It’s perplexing to think that people actually enjoy camping. It’s like saying I enjoy getting 28 mosquito bites and sleeping on the rocky ground in dewy tents. I don’t like any of those things. I like crisp hotel sheets and miniature shampoo bottles. I like hot water and well, not having to purify my water.


Two.
My fertility office calls sex “relations”. I am aghast at this – why do they need to create a euphemism for something so integral to their practice? (And their and our very existence!) When they say, “You should have relations with your partner on Friday night,” I want to say, “Do you mean hot, dirty sex with my hairy man?!?!” (Note: Trying to create a baby is neither very hot nor dirty. It’s perfunctory. But the hairy man part is true.)


Three.
My company had a hiring explosion and now there are many more women sitting on my floor: good for business but bad for the bathroom. Now I have to teach a whole new crop of women the art of the poop-off. And now a whole new crop of women will realize I’m “the girl whose always in the bathroom”. At least I’m not solely “the tall girl” anymore.

4 comments:

  1. Ahh the poop off. You got this! It's what we do!

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  2. One. Totally love Tevas! It's the camp counselor in me dying to escape the cubicle for a li'l creek-side nature walk, but I do not care. I LOVE camping supplies - dishes, backpacks, etc. - but it's beyond laughable how inept I am at actual camping.

    Two. Seeing the word "relations" always makes me laugh at Eddie Murphy playing all versions of the Clumps at a dinner table. Not the word as much as the sound of the grandma's dentures slipping as she says the word. It's almost like onomatopoeia in a way. Sounds hot 'n dirty to me!

    Three. The plethora of dames hazing the first floor bathroom is overwhelming. The sooner you can teach these chicks the art of the poop-off the better.

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  3. Danita,

    My camping expertise extends only to Girl Scout camp. I envision "mess kits" and tents full of daddy long-leggers. We also had competitions on who could set-up their tent the fastest. My team always lost...mainly because I often gave up, threw the poles on the ground, and ate a granola bar.

    I still have fond memories, though.

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