Toilet paper

That Awkward Moment When…

Not that this happened to me (wink).


  • …you realize it was your chive-breath you kept smelling (but secretly blaming everyone else you spoke with).
  • …you notice the toilet paper dragging from the bottom of your shoe.
  • …someone else notices (before you) that you forgot to put deodorant on that morning.
  • …that your slip has fallen and is puddling at your ankles.
  • …your child loudly asks where your baby is while lifting your shirt and you’re not pregnant.
  • …you walk into the bathroom with the broken lock and find your principal sitting on the toilet.
  • …someone mistakens you for someone else BUT you don’t want to seem rude or you try for way too long to place the person when it hits you, you don’t actually know them. (And then the conversation ends with you saying, ‘”mmkay, bye-bye, keep in touch!”
  • …you’re typing a blog post and know that the word ‘mistakens’ is wrong but you repeat it again and again out loud convincing yourself it makes sense and that it sounds like a real word. (ALERT: FRIENDS reference: like ‘supposably’).

It’s no surprise that I often find myself in awkward situations and there is certainly no shortage of embarrassing situations I’ve been in either.

As it happens, I am not as organized as I want to be. I’m not programmed for neatness but a weird phenomenon is that I can’t handle when my desk at work is messy –I am always reorganizing my pencil/note/tape holder and rush to clear any lingering piles.

pencil cup

Wish I could say the same about the laundry. I am inundated and often want to take off one day a week just to get a handle on it.


see the laundry back there, ignoring it as I look off into the sunset?

But, I know it’s my fault. At the end of the day, the last thing I have patience for is sorting and matching socks or trying to figure out whose white t-shirt is whose. I mean well but the fact is – I’d just rather NOT do it. In theory, instead of passing out at the end of the day and plopping on my bed scrolling through Facebook, I should be folding and switching those loads or washing and drying and putting away the dishes. I should be scrubbing the toilets and wiping down the counters. I should be preparing the children’s snacks for school the next day. Holy Mama – I’m tired even writing it all down, much less doing it all.

I always feel like, well if I didn’t have a day job, my house would be in perfect order – but is that so true given my lack of domestic abilities/interest in feeling like a maid? I wonder. Even on Friday when all the kids are out of the house and all I need to do is cook for the weekend – it takes me to the very last second of the day before the sun sets to get it all done. And then…it’s finally clean and organized and…then it’s not. For a minute or two, I cherish the orderliness. Then the little people start moving and there are cars and blocks and headless Barbie dolls and Bananagram tiles and a partial half-bent deck of cards all over the floor. Then the little people eat and I wipe the spills, change the shirt and pants for the 3rd time, sweep the crumbs into a corner because I lost the dustpan…somewhere on the first floor, I think. 

But I digress. The worst things I have encountered (because of my deficiency) as awkward moments go is when the teacher asks, “didn’t you see the note I sent home?” And my child is the one NOT wearing a white shirt for picture day. Then said child starts to cry so that I’d feel guilty enough to run home and get one of those t-shirts I left in one of the mountains of laundry. I have two choices at that moment.1) Blame it on the kid. (nooo, he must have taken it out of his bag before I had a chance to read it!) or 2) “yes, but you know? My life is so hectic, what with working and doctors appointments and errands and and and, so so so sorry, yes I know I always forget things, yes I know I should have put it on the fridge, yes that IS where I told you I put all the notes.”

And then it hits me – I remember seeing the note. On the fridge. I remembered to add it to my calendar on my phone so that things like this, my kid’s schedules, can be better managed, (too bad I added that note for the wrong day). I remembered to add it to the huge white-board in the kitchen nook where all other lists and reminders go. I just forgot to look at it.

Yeah, my life is busy and I ‘waste’ a lot of time doing things in maybe not the best most organized way. So my dishes wait until I am ready and my children learn some responsibility by folding and putting away their own laundry and dinner is sometimes served at 7 PM  So I’m not the best. However, my children are always clean. I clip their nails and make them eat fruit. On occasion I’ll serve vegetables with dinner. They all get hugged and kissed before bedtime. They all get hugged and kissed before they run to the bus stop in the morning.  They are truly loved and well cared for and there is nothing awkward about that.

My Favorite Website Today Is…

I am in guilty pleasure heaven. Seriously. I love their tag line, I love the products they display and seeing how many minutes go buy as each item gets purchased. I giggle every few minutes and after each new item pops up you can hear me say “Oh, I want one of those”!

Glow in the Dark Loo RollI seem to have neglected writing about a lot of college stories – but after seeing this product I was brought back to my best memories with Professor Joachim. There was an advertising class that I took where we were asked to create a product and of course, naturally I came up with the GlowBowl. A glow in the dark toilet seat.  Which brings me back to Firebox…where I saw this item: Glow in the dark toilet paper. Here is a snippet describing the product:

“Ideal for cleaning up things that go dump in the night, this deeply ridiculous toilet tissue will cast its funky green glow across the bathroom.”

No offense, but anytime the word ‘funky’ is used for anything bathroom related I kinda’ wrinkle my nose.

We First Met Here Postcode PuzzleOn a completely unrelated topic…I find it weird that it has become a custom to surprise the woman when a man wants to propose. Why is this phenomenon so popular? Men try to think up creative yet still romantic ways to shock their future fiances. I’m sure most of you have already seen that YouTube clip that is circulating with Howie Mandel – now THAT is so completely over the top, but for the more practical and subtle bloke I found this cute idea: It’s the amazing (drum roll please)…

 …We First Met Here Postcode Puzzle – basically you send the zip code to the company and viola! £29.99 pounds later, you own a really cute idea. This puzzle though can give anyone a real headache. I wonder if you get a picture of the map before they chop it up into small pieces so it’s easier to figure out.

FatboyThere were tons of other products that had me smiling from ear to ear or wondering why I didn’t think of the idea first. However, this next product is kind of ironic. See, it’s called the Fatboy. Um, then why is there a really skinny, pretty model totally relaxing in an ‘I’m faking being relaxed can you tell’, pose?

The descriptions of these products get me every time, I mean seriously,  WHO WRITES THIS STUFF? There were 2 sections here that made me get that in-between brow-wrinkle:

And because the Fatboy is so big and malleable, you can sit on it, lay on it or just lollop out on it.

Made from high-tech, specially-coated nylon, the Fatboy is a doddle to clean. Simply rub with a damp cloth and hey presto.

Eh? What’s lollop? Or is the term ‘lollop out’ a thing. I dunno. Also – I’ve never heard the phrase: is a doddle to clean! It sounds made up to me – which is fine, I make up lots of words, so do my kids, but I ain’t getting paid to write descriptions of products…or maybe I should. Hey presto!

Personalised Superhero Action Figures I am all for personalizing gifts. Ever since the Bat Mitzvah stage (where everything was personalized in the 80’s) I tend to lean towards gift giving that is more personal. Once I ordered the stool that had the cut out colorful letters of the name of my friend’s new baby. Another time I received a cozy couch blanket from my bestie that had both our names on it as a going away present when we were moving thousands of miles away.  I was given a mug with my name spelled out from my grandma and a metal horseshoe with my name on it from my other grandma. I’ve cherished each one of these gifts and am always looking for ways to take gift giving to a whole new level. I think I may have found my husband’s next b-day gift: A personalized superhero action figure!! All the company asks for is the consumer to send 2 photos, one front and one profile picture and they create a 3D head and send you the original doll – plus the DIY kit to pop off the head and replace with your new one! It keeps cracking me up. Seriously. I’m not joking. I thought my doll-playing days were over since all our Barbie dolls are headless, but I guess not!

Anyway, I had a great time perusing this site and I hope you do too, I even aim to purchase a few items. I can’t wait to pin some of this stuff on Pinterest. Stay tuned!

Gas Station Bathrooms & Rebound Dates. Neither Are Pleasant.

It was a night to remember. I was going out with a group of friends, clubbing and hanging out. College wasn’t party central for me, I was a sort of in-between serious and silly. I took most of my classes seriously and wanted to do well, but I knew how to be silly or blow off steam like the average college student would.

This particular night I recall because of the outcome though. It aint pretty kids. And this is what happened:

All the girls got dressed up and spent way to much time primping and making ourselves pretty because by the middle of the night, almost everyone was so drunk that no one cared that she wore her very coolest red skirt or that the other girl wore her new funky shoes or that my lip gloss matched my blush and eye-shadow.

We ended up at a place that had one of those neon martini glass signs blinking on the outside. There was great music, lots of smiling and I recall a few Long Island Iced Teas around the table. We laughed a lot that night, a few couples going off to do their own thing. Now, I was not a big drinker so I didn’t know my limit and I was certainly not paying attention to how much I had been drinking. We were playing drinking games and it was all very innocent as far as I can remember. I did my best to bat my baby-blues in his direction. We’ll get to “him” in a second.

I knew all the girls and some of the guys and there were a few couples in the group. Or maybe it was just a couple of people wishing they were couples…it’s a bit foggy and this was not my core hangout group. I was asked to tag along since one of my friends said there was going to be this new cute guy coming and she thought we’d be great together. She was right. He was pretty good-looking, just my type (at the time). Blonde, next door type with freckles, a real cutie – not one of those tall-dark and handsome types. Just a nice sweet looking kid. He was a friend of a friend, not someone who went to school with us and after a few drinks everyone loosened up and there was no awkwardness about meeting someone new. He paid a lot of attention to me and I thought we were really hitting it off. But then, I needed to use the lady’s room. No one mentioned to me that once you go to the bathroom the flood-waters start to pour through. It was like I had to use the bathroom every 2 minutes. I lost all capability to flirt much less have a conversation without my bladder getting in the way!

We decided to leave because some people in the group were getting out of hand. The designated driver corralled us and we started walking to the car. There we were, silly 20-year-old half drunk students in NYC making a ruckus.  Pretty boy was calling out my name throughout the city and I was all giddy thinking he really likes me!

Until…he plopped down on the dirty ground crying. Eh? This was not how I imagined it to be. He kept repeating, over and over, “why me, why me? whats wrong with meeee?” So there I am, confused, not because of the alcohol, but because here I thought we were having a great time, connecting, flirting innocently when in reality… his fiance had just dumped him and I was being used as the rebound date.

Uch…Blech…Boo! I begged the designated driver to find the car and get us home. So we did. But I had to use the loo every 5 minutes. So we stopped at swanky hotels. We stopped on the side of the road (for the guys). And we stopped at a gas station. Surprisingly we found the ONE in Manhattan! Putting it delicately, had I been completely sober, I’d have opted for other accommodations.

I have never, ever, in my entire life been so grossed out. It permeated of urine, was covered in soot, grease, poop (probably) and had this oily look on the walls. There was not enough toilet paper, the situation was dire. I cried. I used the last square to open the door and ask if anyone around had toilet paper, tissues, napkins…I was desperate and took some crumpled tissues from a friends purse. There was just enough to get me by.

That was my first and only hangover. I hugged the bowl the next morning and learned many lessons about drinking, about friendships, and why grandmas always carry tissues in their sleeves. Later as adults this pretty boy became a neighbor. I never really brought it up and didn’t become good friends with him and his wife, he obviously found true love. I felt bad for him, but I also felt happy for him. He probably has no recollection of that evening, at least I hope he doesn’t. But me? That was a night I surely won’t forget.

Being dumped or duped is bad, feels bad. But these things have a way of turning out okay in the end. We grow up, we face obstacles and we grow from them and continue on. That’s what we need to do. Brush off the dirt, stand up and face the next day. Start over. Silver Lining.