* When I’m in a public restroom and a lady comes out of the stall, I really want to stop saying “Thank you” to her when I pass her on my way in. And I mean, I really thank her in a genuine way, every time. There is no need for this thank you. It’s not like I was about to pee my pants. If anything, all it does is draw attention to the fact that I’m about to use the toilet she just finished using. I will be in her “pee space,” as the mother of an ex-boyfriend of mine used to say when she’d scold him for using the bathroom before I did.

That has also stayed in my head forever, so I will now share it with you. She said when boys pee they stand in front of the toilet, and there’s a “stream of pee space” that is created that is exactly where my head goes when I sit down to pee right after him.

* I need to work on not being so obsessed with the pee space.

* I need to figure out why there are wasps in my backyard, and not just decide that the entire backyard forever belongs to the wasps.

* I lost my glasses about a month ago, but I can’t seem to admit to myself that I’ve actually lost them. Since I only leave the house about 13% of any given week, it seems unlikely that I left them somewhere out there. I’m always here! How can I lose things out there? I’m so rarely out there, you guys! And now with the wasps, I’m even more in here than I was previously. I also lost my favorite bra, which just seems like something that shouldn’t happen once you don’t live in a dorm or with a roommate or go outside to do your laundry. I haven’t attended any ERA rallies; I haven’t gone to a Tom Jones concert in the Seventies. My bra should be easily findable at one of three locations: my underwear drawer, the laundry basket, or my boobs. And yet, no bra. No glasses, no bra. My very personal personal items are turning up missing, one at a time. If my coffee pot disappears in the next couple of weeks, THERE WILL BE BLOOD.

* I recently met a girl named “Machine.” This isn’t something about me that I need to work on, I just feel the need to tell absolutely everybody that someone out there thinks that her name is Machine. I say this because I don’t assume her parents named her that, I feel like she turned eighteen and was like, “I will now be called Machine,” or maybe some cult leader man blessed her with this name during a life-blood ceremony or something, but I keep thinking about how she was like, “Hi, I’m Machine,” and I know I wasn’t the only person who met this girl at that moment but — you guys — everybody acted like that was no big deal. Just a room full of people all, “Oh, hi! Sally. Paula. Have you met Machine?”

In her defense, I didn’t ask her to spell it. Maybe it was Mesheene or something like that. Misheen. That’s actually kind of pretty.

* I need to stop trying to mentally justify the crazy actions of strangers just to restore world order in my head.

* No, but for real: I really need to stop thanking stranger-ladies in the bathroom for leaving their stalls.

22 thoughts on “Some Things About Myself That I Need To Work On

  1. I’ve lost dresses. And hoodies. And other large items. Granted, I also moved across state lines two times last year, so that might’ve had something to do with it, but I packed and unpacked all the boxes myself, so . . . yeah. THINGS GET LOST FOR NO REASON. But good luck finding them — a good bra is very valuable.

  2. “My bra should be easily findable at one of three locations: my underwear drawer, the laundry basket, or my boobs.”

    That is my favorite sentence I’ve read this week.

  3. I think your bra might be beneath the bottom drawer of your dresser drawers. I’m not saying I put it there, but I’ve lost underwear and bathing suit pieces to this hungry space (in my house, not yours). Go ahead–pull out that bottom drawer and be amazed at what has fallen there.

    If I’m wrong, then, um…never mind.

    Oh, and I once knew a girl whose last name was “Loser” but she told everyone it was pronounced “Loh-zer”. DOUBTFUL.

    1. YOU WERE RIGHT.

      You found my favorite bra! And a pair of yoga pants I thought I’d lost a year ago! Thank you!

      (My drawers don’t pull out all the way, so I might have just broken an arm craning myself back there, but you were right! Thank you thank you thank you!)

      1. DOUBLE THANK YOU!

        I just went through my boyfriend’s back-of-bottom-dresser-drawer and found my much beloved, long-missing Dillon Panthers t-shirt! Thank you!

        I want to send you some kind of thanks. Can you email me your home address?

        1. WOW! A virtual cornucopia of lost stuff!

          It’s funny, I finally had some down time and I was just thinking, “I wonder if Pamie found her bra . . .” when I checked in here. Yaaaaaay! And yay for the yoga pants and Dillon Panthers t-shirt!

          The bottom of the dresser is a magical place. I encourage all readers to look there, just for the hell of it.

          Emailing you now. :) Thanks!

      2. Isn’t it amazing? Whenever I lose things, I have to look there. I discovered it in college freshman year when I lived in a tiny tiny box with another girl and we were very tidy because of it so there was this limited number of possibilities and I was *certain* I had put my favorite skirt in *that drawer* and I went crazy one day and just pulled out all the drawers and there it was!

        I also started climbing on top of my dresser (one of those tall ones that is like almost as tall as me because I am very short) to look behind it because I’ve found that things I place up there sometimes fall behind it and I would never know!

        Also, my high school friend’s dad renamed himself to Universe because he thought he was so goddamn important. “My name is Universe, but that’s Mr. Universe to you!” Can you believe people??

  4. Well, since you brought up pee and pee was also discussed on a link in a blog I read, I’m going to have to ask for your expert pee opinion.

    Here’s my question, you may need to research, but why is it necessary for a man in a stall to announce his presence when another man walks in….apparently it is a top seven “man rule” for a bathroom:

    “Announce Your Presence

    If you are using a stall and have the place to yourself, it’s one thing. But as soon as you hear the door open, you need to make your presence known.”

    See link: http://goodmenproject.com/good-feed-blog/7-rules-of-mens-bathroom-etiquette/

    1. Wait what? That’s gender specific? There’s no courtesy cough or pants rustle in the ladies room? Do y’all like squat and check under stalls or just try closed doors? Is it because most guys are taller and therefor can’t tell if stalls are occupied?

      Okay the truth is this: Some guys like to sing when they pee, but only if no one is around. So the guy in stall just lets you know that you need to save the Lionel Richie for later. <– That's not true at all, but I wish it were.

  5. I just imagine that a lot of guys are super-paranoid about being heard in the bathroom, and would have some kind of medical emergency if they were doing their business and then somebody strolled out of a stall AS IF FROM NOWHERE.

    Maybe it’s GUYS who need those Japanese constant-toilet-flushing-sounds-and-music machines.

  6. Maybe it was pronounced “Ma-shin-nay”? I’m fine with people giving their kid “creative” names, but maybe they should save them for the middle name, that way if the kid likes it they can use it, and if they hate it no one needs to know…

    1. YES. I was about to ask if there was a magical time-warp dimension thingie where my dog had gotten into your apartment and had eaten your bra (as he does mine. Rat bastard.) but no, the Internet found your bra for you.

      Which is amazing.

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