December 2011

20 Things About Turning 44

by ihaddad on December 27, 2011

On the eve of my 44th birthday, I find myself looking back on lessons learned over the years. Here are a few I thought I’d share…

  1. On keeping up with technology: Try staying one step ahead of your mother.
  2. On long hair: It’s lovely until you find it on your toes.
  3. On foreplay: Between cleaning toilets and rubbing lotion on my dry elbows, sometimes “Hey, wanna sex break?” is all you’re going to get.
  4. On lingerie: See number 3.
  5. On owning a business with your spouse: Two words: Separate offices.
  6. On marriage: See number 5 (and probably number 3).
  7. On cleaning house, I present an analogy: Macular degeneration is to housework what Spanx are to excercise.
  8. On gaining weight: See “Spanx.”
  9. On parenthood: Better you than me.
  10. On sentimentality: If you don’t have kids, there’s no need for fine china or scrapbooking classes.
  11. On cooking: Ketchup can fix many culinary missteps but usually not in baked goods.
  12. On not eating meat: You will miss bacon. Seriously. You will miss it a lot.
  13. On dressing appropriately for one’s age: Shoot for somewhere between Angela Lansbury and a hooker.
  14. On expectations: Sometimes you will be disappointed, and sometimes you won’t.
  15. On meeting Prince Charming: Sometimes you will be disappointed, and sometimes you will be very disappointed.
  16. On addictions: If you’re going to have one, try falling somewhere between heroin and Taco Bell.
  17. On heartbreak: Skip the heroin and go directly to Taco Bell.
  18. On retirement: There’s still time to save. There’s also still time to buy an RV and matching leisure suits.
  19. On plastic surgery: I’d rather have the RV.
  20. On aging gracefully: Considering my history, it’s very unlikely.

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Another Psycho in the Shower

by ihaddad on December 19, 2011

Psycho Movie PhotoLet me start by making a simple request: As difficult as it might be, please try and resist the urge to picture me naked for the next five minutes. Normally I’d just refrain from telling my tale in such a public forum, but this is a story that begs to be told. Plus, let’s face it, I was lying about the normally refraining part. So rather than picturing me in my birthday suit, try imagining me in an entirely different kind of suit—maybe your grandmother’s swimsuit—the one with the ruffles and skirt. While you’re at it, go ahead and imagine copious amounts of cellulite on the backs of my thighs. That’s actually closer to reality and also serves as punishment for those of you who insist on picturing me without clothes. Okay, so it’s settled then: I am in the shower, wearing Granny’s swimsuit. And a shower cap.

It all started when my dog gave the universal signal for “Mom needs a shower” by moving to the other end of the couch. As far as showers go, this one wasn’t anything special. I was unimpressed with the water pressure, and overall it was shaping up to be just your average bathing experience; that is, until one little bubble of soap slipped off my forehead and directly into my eyeball.

Everyone knows that familiar sting—the level of pain falling somewhere between ice cream headache and bear mauling. Usually a spritz of water and a bit of dramatic whining does the trick. I only wish that’s where my story had ended. Of course, if it had ended there, y’all would’ve been all like, “You made me stop playing Words with Friends for this?” Fortunately (for the sake of this story, at least), that beastly bubble set off a series of events so spectacular, it can only be described as Rube-Goldberg-ian in proportion.

devil-rubber-ducky-webAs the sting kicked in, I dropped the soap (insert appropriately juvenile joke here) and for some reason thought it necessary to pick it up before rinsing out my eye. Why I imagined I could do this while almost completely blind is a mystery and rather predictably led to me cracking my head on the soap holder. When I lurched back in shock, I slipped, and an errant elbow set off an avalanche of shampoo and conditioner bottles, two washcloths, a razor, some facial cleanser, a scrubby sponge, my dog’s toothpaste (don’t ask), and a rubber ducky with devil horns. This endless river of bathing detritus pummeled me about the ribcage and shoulders as my concerned poodle came running to see the sideshow.

While I began composing a witty tweet in my head, someone in the neighborhood flushed a toilet, and I was scalded back to reality. Blinded and burned, I shakily exited the shower while Dexter T. Poodle looked on curiously. As far as eventful bathing goes, this one was right up there with the time I decided to shower after taking an Ambien, but that’s another story for another time. Meanwhile, please excuse me while I go and return this suit to Grandma. You know how she gets about her swimwear.

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When the Cat’s Away

by ihaddad on December 17, 2011

My husband is out of town this weekend being manly and shit. Here are some of the things I miss when he’s gone:

1. His ability to fix things
2. Someone else to share dog doodie duty
3. Stellar vacuuming skills
4. Personal food delivery man
5. IT support

On the other hand, there are a few benefits to having the house to myself:

1. No-brainer: Getting all the covers
2. Can loudly sing Robot Chicken song at midnight without reproach
3. Showering optional
4. TV is mine (assuming he didn’t change a setting on the remote, making it utterly useless in my hands)
5. Can throw away some of his clothes without him noticing

In conclusion, sometimes all it takes to keep the Weenies intact are some extra blankets and a shower.

The End.

UPDATE: After pushing every possible combination of buttons on the new remote, I found one channel. In Spanish. With Spanish subtitles.

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