What’s Up, Jenny McCarthy?

So…some of you may have caught the tale of my first period. Some of you may even be here, because you saw it on the Huffington Post.  Fucking awesome.

Well you know who else saw it? A producer. For Dirty, Sexy, Funny with Jenny McCarthy. And on Thursday morning,  Jenny is going to be interviewing….yours truly. Not me interviewing her, like I did with Dr. Travis Stork. And the second time with Dr. Travis Stork. Not me making a fool out of myself getting a book signed, like I did with Jenny Lawson. Or Cary Elwes.As a result of my Huffington Post essay about my first period, I'm going to be on the Jenny McCarthy radio show, Dirty, Sexy, Funny

Instead, I’m  going to be chatting with Jenny about my first period. And probably Chicago. She’s a Chicago girl, you know? Hilarity is sure to ensue. And maybe when we’re both chillin’ in the suburbs,  we’ll hang out. I mean, we could totally be friends after a 10 minute radio chat, right?

So anyway,  this quick blurb is brought to you by my pride and the desire to have your support as I begin my path to fame and fortune  (or just infamy for saying something completely idiotic because I’m SO. INCREDIBLY. NERVOUS.  You’ll just have to listen to find out).

You can listen to Dirty, Sexy, Funny on SiriusXM channel 109 (SiriusXM Stars) from 10 AM-12 PM eastern time on Thursday.  I believe I’m scheduled some time in the middle. You can even get a free trial of SiriusXM on your device for 30 days.

Guys, this is SO exciting for me, so let’s keep the excitement flowing. What’s exciting in your life right now? What are some of the cool things you’ve done that you’re still super proud of? No excitement is too small!

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

6 Things to Watch on Netflix to Brighten a Rainy Day

I swear it hasn’t stopped raining in Chicago in weeks. Except when the sun decided to laugh at me the morning after my car was discovered under 4 feet of water a mere two weeks ago. Then, it stopped raining. For a day. To mock my pain. More on that later. Right now, we’re talking about rain. And what to do on rainy days.

Sure, it may be summer. It may even be beautiful where you live, but here? It’s been nonstop rain. So I thought I’d give you a playlist of things to watch on Netflix when you’re stuck in the house. Because snuggling on the couch with Netflix and some snacks sounds utterly delightful right now. Especially when you opt for something so bright and shiny, the rain will just…wash away.

When it's raining outside, spend quality time snuggling on the couch watching these classic movies and TV shows full of bright and shiny characters on NetflixSo we’ll start our Netflixathon with none other than Elle Woods and work our way through the brightest and shiniest of TV and movie characters.

Legally Blonde

Hopefully, you’ve seen this movie and now how unbelievably charming it is. If you haven’t, sit your butt on the couch and prepare for serious amounts of adorable. Because how can you now smile when Reese Witherspoon is showing off the Bend and Snap?

Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt

If you remember me raving about Kimmy and her Just Ten Seconds theory a few months ago, you’ll know why I chose this bright ball of sunshine in a Tina Fey TV show. 1 season. Positivity to the max. Short episodes. Smile, and enjoy.

New Girl

While Zooey Deschanel and the gang have been together for several seasons, you can get started on this adorably quirky comedy and enjoy a few episodes of the ever-ridiculous roommates. Even when Jess is crying, New Girl will have you laughing in no time.

Clueless

“I want to help.” Cher is always looking to do something for the greater good, even when she doesn’t quite understand the difference between needs and wants. With a hilarious ensemble of friends, Alicia Silverstone is a joy to watch as she dances through her perfectly coiffed world.

Hook

It may take Peter Panning a while to rediscover his true self and become the positive Peter Pan he once was, but once he does, the doors are open for the greatest adventure possible: life. This movie always warms my heart, and is never far from my brain.

Who Framed Roger Rabbit?

How could anyone blame such a lovable goofball for anything even resembling murder? Roger’s a doll, and determined to save Toon Town. Watch his wacky adventures and forget that the rain is unending.

What are your favorite movies and shows to watch on rainy days? What brightens your day? Who are your favorite movie or TV characters?

Netflix Stream TeamWhile this is not a sponsored post, Netflix hooked me up with a year’s subscription and a device on which to watch movies and TV shows that make my day brighter. But I was a Netflix subscriber long before joining the Stream Team. So there’s that. 

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Hey Baby, What’s Your Myers-Briggs Type?

For the last few weeks, I’ve taken you on a little journey that started with two guys in a bar (this is the beginning of the story, so if you’re new around here, start with this post), and has led to a very serious flirting problem that included a lot more waiting than I would have preferred. Well, not that this should surprise you, based on what you know about my dating experience, but it took another month before I messaged The Grown Up again.

I had been seeing another gentleman caller, who was attractive, kind and okay to be around…I nicknamed him McDreamy during our brief time together, but he wasn’t entirely deserving of the name. He was what you might refer to as pretty, but dumb. He was about as intellectually stimulating as a carrot.

So I was looking for something a little more. Something with substance. SomeONE with substance…someone with half a brain.

And so I messaged The Grown Up.

photo credit: L1010203_v1 via photopin (license)

photo credit: L1010203_v1 via photopin (license)

This was our longest conversation to date. I think we chatted for a few hours that fateful evening.

I sent him a tongue-sticking-out emoji, because I wasn’t terribly clever when it came to starting chatversations. It was shortly after St Patrick’s Day, and I worked at an Irish bar, so it seemed logical for him to ask me about it. And for once, I was actually kind of letting him in.

TGU: How was St Patricks day? Nightmare crowd?
Me: I didn’t work.
They hate me.
TGU: ?
Me: They didn’t schedule me.
So I went out drinking all day 😀
TGU: Do you seriously think they hate you?
Me: Yes.
But, it was okay because I went to my local watering hole dive pub that was filled with people I knew and liked.
I had a happy little corner and people came to me.

Bars on St. Patrick's Day get pretty crowded...

Bars on St. Patrick’s Day get pretty crowded…

TGU: nice!

I was going to impress him with my barfly popularity. That always worked. Why I felt the need to tell him my job essentially sucked, I’ll never know. But he took it to a whole new level.

TGU: So are you Norm, or Cliff Clavin, or Sam Malone?
Me: Well, my brother is Norm.
For sure.
He walks into the bar and everyone is all “WOJ!”
TGU: Frasier? Woody?

I considered explaining to him that I was a lady and didn’t want to be a boy character…

Me: I’m more Diane
TGU: Really?
Diane was…kinda…

Dude, I chose Diane because she was the pretty nice one.

Me: Hmmm maybe Kirstie Alley’s character?

Not really, but what other ladies were on that damn show?

TGU: Umm

I know. You’re right. But I can’t even…wait! I know!

Me: nah…
Carla

TGU: She was definitely better than Diane
hahaha
Carla was awesome
Me: I’m a sassy pants.
I’m the hilarious one.
TGU: hahaha… always awesome when people think they’re the funny one… hahaha
Although I don’t remember you laughing at your own jokes, so you’re probably OK.
Me: lol
I just get told that I’m funny all the time.
I don’t always think I’m that funny…I just talk a lot
TGU: hahaha

Oooh he thinks I’m funny!

TGU: So, did you have a good time last night?

Finally! My chance to shine again. Stupid pre-dating questions.

Me: Indeed
TGU: you don’t even remember do you?
Me: I do too!
TGU: All some kind of greenish blur.
Me: I maintained a pleasant buzz throughout the evening.

Irish PrincessOkay fine, you guys, I drank all damn day…went to 4 different bars…got stupid drunk. He didn’t need to know that.

TGU: Nice.
That’s the best way to do it.
Me: Exactly.
Functional but fun.

It was at this point, I believe, The Grown Up decided he might actually be interested in me. I didn’t realize it for…well…a while. I’m not very observant…

TGU: <nerd talk>hey, did you ever take a Myers-Briggs test? </end nerd talk>
Me: LOL yes.

He was adorably nerdy. He used freakin’ code speak. I loved him. And, for the record, I generally hate personality tests. HATE. THEM. A lot. But I just went la-de-da a boy might like me la-de-da sure I’ll take your stupid test…

TGU: did I already ask you this?

Is this really a thing you do?

Me: No, I just really liked the nerd talk interjection.

True story. Loved <nerd talk>.

TGU: Hey, some people can’t handle the nerd-nitude.
Me: I <3 nerds
TGU: yay! nerd love!
There’s not enough love for the nerds out there.
Do you remember what types you were?
(MyersBriggs came up recently with friends, and so I’ve been thinking about it lately.)
Nice play, there, Grown Up. I now (as in real time NOW) see what you were doing here.
TGU: You’re probably an…EN something…because you’re very social and yet like nerds.
Me: LOL I don’t remember for sure.
I’m, like, all over the place, though.
TGU: Understandable…kinda outta nowhere…
 If you ever feel like it…
Me: Will do.
I’m not going to lie, here, guys…I went and took the damn test immediately. I was just all la-de-da…this could be interesting…la-de-da this boy is super nerdy. I should make him love me with my winning personality…
TGU: What I realized was that N’s are less common then S people.
And T’s are less common then F’s in women…
 me: What does each stand for?
TGU: so NT women are the most rare type
Me: I don’t know where I fall, but I’ve been told I’m a rare breed of girl. lol

The Grown Up went on a long discussion of personality types, but I’ll spare you the details. You’re welcome.

Me: I think I’m ENFP…but not 100% sure
Me: Oh yeah
That’s me
Hardcore!
Winning Personality
Please love me, Grown Up. I promise I’ll be really nice and stop being a serial dater.
TGU: Yay! That’s gonna be my new line… instead of “What’s your sign, baby?” I’ll say “What’s your MyersBriggs type, baby?”
For the love of GOD; we’re FINALLY getting somewhere.
Me:That’ll get you all the ladies!
You’ve got me, dude. Just ask me the fuck out.
TGU: Totally! world, look out!
Me: Okay, maybe only the intellectually nerdy ones…
TGU: Eh, they’re the only ones I want anyway
Me: Good point. pretty but dumb gets old pretty fast

And then The Grown Up started talking about a girl he dated who fell into that category (although not dumb, just an “S” versus and “N”). I refrained from talking about my “McDreamy” because I didn’t think talking about one’s current prospects with another of one’s current prospects was in good taste. I merely mentioned that I didn’t feel guilty about categorizing the “pretty but dumb.”

TGU: (the world is about 65% S people… it’s one of the few types that doesn’t have a 50/50 split in the general population)
Me: Strange.
TGU: I like to think that reality TV is their fault.
Me: LOL  probably.
God, I fucking hate reality TV. Unless I can get famous by being on reality TV. I’m not completely opposed…
TGU: So what have you been doing for fun lately?
Me: That is my least favorite question ever. I do everything fun.
TGU: Must be nice!
Me: Indeed. Just doing my Chrissy thing
TGU: heh. Threesomes with Jack Tripper?
Me: UGH!  swat
TGU: ouch!
Me: Watch it, buddy! No Threes Company references…
TGU: What Chrissy then?
 Me:  just me!
TGU: I thought your name was actually <insert personal e-mail address here>
Me: that’s a tough one for people to get on the first try, so we shortened it to Chrissy.
We continued to banter about my name for a few more minutes before he dropped the bomb.

TGU: We should hang out some night, so I can see you in person when you’re not working. What does your schedule look like next week?

Now THAT’S a sure thing. Asking about schedules means a date will finally fucking happen.

Me: I think that’s a stellar idea. At this point it’s pretty open.
TGU: How about something like Tuesday?
Me: I can do Tuesday.
TGU: Sweet.

And just like that, I had a date with The Grown Up. Honestly, it only took three fucking months. Whatever. It was game. On. We exchanged phone numbers and he promised to plan a whole date. I was impressed and excited. I was usually the one who had to come up with an itinerary. All I had to do was pick out a killer outfit and make him fall in love with me. Easy peasy, my friends.

Are you as excited for this date as I was? What’s the longest you’ve waited for someone to ask you out? Would you have even waited as long as I did? What are your thoughts on personality tests? Or better yet, what are your thoughts on personality tests before a first date?

Riding in Cars with Boys

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Hey Nicholas Cage, Quit Watching Me Pee

In my office, the bathroom is an interesting space. I’ve been with my company for over two years, and last month, they replaced lights I didn’t even know existed. For two years, the bathroom was a dark, dank place.

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And now, look how bright it is! (Sort of.)

The ladies are occasionally super messy and gross  (signs literally went up in three places to say, “if it’s still there, flush again.” Yes. I know.) Toilets overflow. It’s just a mess.

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I’m not sure if you can see the pool of water…

And then there’s the awkwardness that ensues when people refuse to acknowledge one another in the bathroom…Here’s a good rule of thumb: if you make eye contact, smile or say something…a simple “hi” will suffice. If you purposely avoid eye contact, other people will notice and you’ll look like a dick.

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But when you sit down on the porcelain throne, and look up to see creepy Nicholas Cage staring at you…

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How do you even respond?

Well, I had gone into one of the smaller stalls on a whim (okay fine, someone was in the handicapped stall), and discovered the above-pictured gem…

And procedured to check every other stall in the bathroom. The handicapped stall (my stall of choice) was the only one without a picture of my good pal, Nic.

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Oh. And one left shark.

 

I happened upon the creepiest Nic pic of the bunch on my first try, but the rest were pretty fantastic.

And don’t get me wrong…I like Mr. Cage. His work in Con Air really did it for me. But dear God, I can’t handle him watching me pee.

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What weird things go on in your office bathroom? Ever been caged with Cage?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Stop with the Jamberry Groups, Already

Dear Jamberry sales reps. (And Younique Eyelash peddlers. And essential oil people. And rando jewelry consultants),

I get, I really do. I’m obsessed with my nails too. I paint them a couple times a week. I have a bit of a Julep problem. And sure, I’ll share my findings with you on occasion…but I’m not force feeding it down your throat. I don’t think, anyways…

Gratuitous nail photo: The spring nails that brought the Chicago spring snow

Gratuitous nail photo: The spring nails that brought the Chicago spring snow

When you find something you like, you want to share it with the world. I totally understand. And while in-home selling parties are so passe (don’t get me wrong, I’m still going to throw annual Pampered Chef parties, y’all), Facebook parties are the it thing.

Cool.

The thing about a PARTY, though, is that people who are invited to parties know they’re invited and can…wait for it…decline before they’re spam tagged with a million posts about how great Jamberry, Younique, and whatever else you’re shilling is. This isn’t just about Jamberry. This about any consultant sales company that is training consultants to use Facebook groups instead of event invitations to sell their shit. Talk about taking high-pressure sales to the max.

I very deliberately join groups that are interesting and beneficial to me. I’m involved in some amazing groups of bloggers, women, and local discussions. Groups in which I chose to be a part of. I didn’t choose to join your press-on nail or mascara group, because I’m not interested.

Now, if you were to invite me to an event, I may browse and discover the product is not for me, and then easily decline the invitation. I may also realize that I love the product which I’ve done with those fabulous Thirty-One bags, KELLY (okay secretly, thank you…they’re like…the best bags for games and Sam’s Club shopping ever). You could invite me to a real party where I get to see or try the product (and you feed me…and you booze me up) and discover that I love them or I’ve had enough wine to think that $50-$100 is an acceptable shopping budget. Because I may buy a few things and help you earn free stuff with my purchase. I’m happy to do so, when I’ve been properly invited (digitally totally counts, y’all) and not automatically added to a group of every. Single. Person. You know.

The fastest way to get me to ignore your stuff, my friends? Is to add me to a group so your consultant can swoon and tell me how much I’m going to help you get free stuff. Every. Flippin’. Hour.

I know I’m not the only one, either. I’ve heard and seen a lot of complaints from friends and peers. This is not a good sales technique, kids.

Gratuitous nail photo: That's right. I painted Animal on my nail to match the BandAid on the other thumb.

Gratuitous nail photo: That’s right. I painted Animal on my nail to match the BandAid on the other thumb.

I get it, though. You love your jams and you want everyone else to love them, as well. And you know what? Your nails look totally adorable. But those things aren’t for me. I LIKE spending the time it takes to paint my nails. It’s therapeutic. I like that even with my quasi-expensive nail polish, I’m still spending way less money than it would cost to change my nails as often as I do if I were using Jamberry. I like that I can flex my creative muscles with color combos and designs. It’s a thing, okay?

Gratuitous nail photo

Gratuitous nail photo

When I host product parties (I used to be a consultant for Tastefully Simple and love me some Pampered Chef), there are snacks. There’s liquor and wine and beer. There’s laughter. If it’s a digital party, there’s an easy opt-out button that allows you to say, “thanks but no thanks” and then notifications stop without feeling like you have to explain why you are leaving a group.

So do everyone you love and respect a favor. If you’re a consultant for one of these companies, stick with events and not groups. If you’re hosting one of these parties and you want me to buy stuff? Invite me to an event. Whether it’s a digital party or you’re hosting something at your place (and there are snacks and wine? even better!), I’m more likely to consider buying something.

Jamberry Groups

Come on, guys, fess up. What really irks you about these parties? Do you hate being added  to groups as much as I do? Do you love these parties? Are you addicted to the Jams? Or the crazy eyelashes? Or the scented oils? Now, let’s end on a positive note – What home parties can’t you get enough of?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Reasons You Should Probably Never Talk About Money (With People. Do I Need to Clarify That?)

I’ve decided to devote a little discussion to money or better yet, why people shouldn’t talk about money (Does that make this blog post ironic? Someone ask Alannis Morrisette for me). They say that money is the root of all evil…so does that make evil the money tree? 

Rich or poor, you should probably avoid talking about cold, hard cash…here’s why.

7 reasons not to talk about money. Ever.

Very SERIOUS reasons not to talk about money. Ever.

  • Someone may get jealous of your larger pay check and find a way to steal it. Probably with ninja stars and boomerangs.
  • You might get punched. Especially if you make eleventy billion dollars and are trying to use an expired coupon. And then arguing about it with the cashier.
  • If you’re trying to use food stamps (or your state/country’s equivalent), and you roll your groceries out to a Lexus…I’m going to judge you for the rest of your life. Even though I don’t know your name. And I might even blog about you. You know, quite frankly, I’m glad I don’t know your name.
  • Making 6, 7 or 8 figures is great. We’re all really happy for you. But if you’re single (oh hell, if you’re making 7 or 8 figures, I don’t care if you’ve got a family of 10), you should never. Ever. Ever. Ever. Talk about how you have no money. Because if you have no money, it’s your own fault. Unless it’s all in savings so you can retire at 40. Because I can TOTALLY respect that. Sort of. Okay, fine. I’m just really jealous and I might want to find my ninja stars and boomerangs.
  • People will feel sorry for you if you have less money. And they might then give you money. Hmmm…. Maybe you should talk about money…Let’s think on that one.
  • No matter how poor you think you are, you never know what someone else’s circumstances are. You could be standing next to someone who ran away with the circus, finally escaped from a relationship with the bearded lady, and has three circus peanuts and a clown nose to their name. Not that I’ve ever experienced this…but you know…it could happen.
  • Blaming [insert politician or organization] here isn’t really helpful for anyone. And no one wants to get into your bullshit trap political arguments anyways. You stop that right now.

What are your thoughts about money talk? Have you ever wanted to run away to the circus? Do you love circus peanuts the way I love circus peanuts? Who wants to let me borrow their boomerang?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

I Love When People Take My Sass and Run With It

If you recall from a few days ago, I had an offer to discuss selling my site. Not like, a hey, we-want-to-buy-Quirky-Chrissy offer…More like a hey, we-buy-sites-are-you-selling offer.

After the first try, I ignored it…but when he went in for the second attempt, I delivered what  I hope made him laugh a little bit. His first response was all business, but his response to my response was baller.

It was like a mullet. Business in the front; party in the back. I just needed to pull the cap off. Which I did with a little help from you. I used some of your suggestions in my response e-mail, and I think you’ll appreciate how that went over. SassTaye Diggs and ShemarThanks RyanRyan was a real trooper about the whole thing. So thank you, Ryan! I like to think that you came here, saw my blog post and responded to my survey. In my little daydream here, I truly believe that you were the one who answered my survey with, “Just say thanks but no thanks.”

To the rest of you who responded to my survey, you’re hilarious and beautiful people. I think we’re going to do more surveys, because this was ridiculous amounts of fun for me!

Do you like to sass people in e-mail? Would you have had a little fun with this? What’s the sassiest thing you’ve done recently?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Even the Pink Fucking Monkey Gets a Vote

Yesterday was Election Day. We has a pretty big race here in Illinois, and I don’t even want to talk about it.

Instead, I’ll talk about the very serious vote in our house (holy crap, I can say house) last night.

So Brian has picked up this strange habit of not putting the toilet seat down. Which would be less strange if he had been doing it as long as I’ve known him. But it’s a recent development.

Obviously, this new development isn’t on my list of favorites, OCD tendencies and all…so I brought it up to him. I was in bed, and he was standing up. Our bed still isn’t on a frame, so it’s pretty low to the ground, too. It felt like I was a foot tall and he was a giant beast (in, like, not a bad way).

His response? “Maybe, that’s how it’s supposed to be.”

“No.”

“Okay…let’s vote! Everyone who thinks the toilet seat should stay up, raise your hands!” He raised both hands high towards the ceiling.

Then, I said, “All in favor of the toilet seat staying down, raise your hands.” I raised both of my hands.

He decided he needed another vote, he looked around the room, and then he grabbed The Octopod, raising all eight of his tentacles.

The Octopod

The Octopod was the only stuffed creature that Brian brought to our relationship.

I told him The Octopod does NOT count, or so help me, I would get out of bed and every other stuffed animal and doll would be on Team Seat Down.

“You wouldn’t be able to hold all their hands up!”

“Oh yes I would. Rufus. Samantha. Teddy. Staley. Kermit. Even the Pink Fucking Monkey.”

Stuffed animals

Some of the stuffed creatures. Okay, so I got Kermit for Brian for Christmas one year (he named his car Kermit after completely disregarding my option to name him Charlie)

Rufus

Rufus the dog was Brian’s Valentine’s Day gift to me a few years ago…he said, “I got you a dog.” Last night, I said, “My dog’s got votes.”

“That’s his name? Not the fucking pink monkey? The Pink Fucking Monkey? Really?”

“Yep. I mean. He didn’t have a name…but now he does.”

And that, my friends, is how I won the toilet seat debate.

Do you have a toilet seat struggle in your home? How do you solve debates? What are your thoughts on the whole toilet seat thing?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Meanwhile, a Little Awkwardness in the Ladies’ Room…

Holy crap, you guys. Brian and I are safely in California, checked into hotel number one of three for the first leg of our trip, and I already have 27 thousand things to tell you.

The Pros and Cons of Midol

I pack VERY light when it comes to my carry-on luggage, if I can help it. Not so much with the checked luggage, though…I check everything, thanks to Southwest’s Bags Fly Free policy.

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Yes, my suitcases are that big...and that girly.

So when I realized my sinus infection headache was not going away after Allegra, Sudafed, and an antibiotic, I also realized I had packed the Advil in my suitcase. I ran to the shop for a quick headache relief solution, only to be appalled by the gouging prices of everything…except Midol.

I hadn’t used Midol since college, before I started the pill to help dull the effects of my period. But a dude-friend of mine swore by it in college, for obviously non-feminine reasons.

I swear to God, you guys, it was a magic little half-priced pill. I started feeling it break up my headache within minutes. Within an hour, it was gone.

Of course, three hours into our flight, I had to pee…in the teeny tiny bathroom. Insert expletives about the size of my hips here.

I can’t claim that this is 100% correlation so much as coincidence, but I’m telling you…Midol brought my monthly curse right there on the plane. And also a weird dream about my lady eggs. Fucking Midol.

My Whoops Moment in the Airport Bathroom

After our hour plus delay at Midway Airport in Chicago, we arrived safely at SFO. Having only used that sorry excuse for a bathroom on the plane once in a 4 hour trip, I had to pee immediately.

I went into the ladies’ room where there was a crowd of women and just one older woman with a little guy in front of me. She was checking a door to see if someone was in there, but it didn’t open, so she told the little boy, “Nope. Someone is in there.” I noticed that the first stall was empty by peering into the little door hole, and instead of taking it for myself, I pulled it wide open for the little boy and his mom or grandma (not sure which), while I stood behind the door, proudly being helpful. She looked at me, horrified. “Nope. Someone is in there.”

I slowly closed the door, and looked around, nervously. A sweet teenage girl tried to reassure me that it was probably no big deal, but I considered running out of the bathroom faster than I had ever run in my entire life. But thrn my overwhelming urge to pee won, and I stared at every stall waiting for one to open.

The toilet flushed in the stall I had opened. It was now a race between 7 other stalls and this lady. I just needed one to open so I could quickly duck inside. Her stall was about to open, when another miraculously became available. I dashed in, just as the woman was about to walk out. I saw a flash of color from her skirt before I was safely in my own stall.

When I walked out to wash my hands, I’m pretty sure she was still there, taller and scarier than I hoped…she could totally beat the crap out of me…but I walked (or slinked…one of those) to the sink next to her with my head down, avoiding all eye contact with anyone. I washed my hands and raced out of there, paper towels still in hand. I gave Brian the look that says OMG let’s go go go.

“Awkwardness in the bathroom?”
“Yup.”
“OK then.”

And we moved on to baggage claim.

What are your thoughts on Midol? Have you ever accidentally opened a bathroom stall? Have you been walked in on?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

How to Make House Hunting Less Like Dating

For the last couple of months, instead of estate sailing and garage sailing for vintage board games, Brian and I have been adventuring out with our realtor (who is hilarious and awesome), but you knew that already. Because we almost bought a house. And then we didn’t, and we were heartbroken. It was like a bad breakup. I even ate Sbarro pizza…in CHICAGO. Home to the best pizza known to man. But I ate Sbarro. And inadvertently paused my DietBet(I didn’t gain anything, but I didn’t lose much, either.) I’m not making excuses, just telling it like it is.

Much like dating, the best way to get over one house is to jump right into the next. But that never works out. We needed something fast and easy. We went and saw 5 houses just a few days later. We compared them all to The House. The one we had just broken up with.

Now, we’re much pickier…only seeing 1 to 2 houses at a time…and we go in ready to shoot down a perfectly good house for whatever reason…because we’re afraid of losing it…or it really doesn’t hold a flame to our first.

Is this starting to sound familiar?

House hunting is COMPLETELY like dating. And then I remember how long it took me to find Brian. And I don’t want to wait 27 years to find the right house!
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So I’ve decided to make house hunting less like dating…and more like a game.

Step 1: Create a list of all the criteria that you’re looking for in a house.

Step 2: Assign point values to each feature, based on how important it is to your search.

Step 3: Create a list of the most ridiculous things you can think of and make every house visit a scavenger hunt. Note: This is a mini-game and doesn’t coubt toward win conditions.

Step 4: Visit the house. Check off items on the criteria list to find out if you have enough victory points to buy the house.

Step 5: Without snooping in places you shouldn’t be snooping (furniture pieces like dressers and desks are off limits. Would you want someone going through your things?), take note of items on your scavenger hunt list. Shelves, closets, and items that would stay if you moved in are fair game, but again, dont rifle through anything. Be considerate and think about if it was your house. Besides, people leave enough weird shit out in the open when they know someone is coming to look (remind me to tell you about that time they were showing my college apartment).

Step 6: Another mini-game. If there are pictures of the people currently living in said house, make up a story about them. Feel free to use items on the scavenger hunt as props.

Step 7: Tally up the victory points and determine if it’s your house. Do the pros out-weigh the cons? If so, it may be your house.

I hope this helps you avoid heartbreak while searching for your new home…but if it doesn’t, the mini-games will at least keep you spirits high and your sense of humor actively engaged.

Have you bought a house? Do you want to buy a house? Do you have tips for house hunting?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!