Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Deodorant, Tampax, Condoms, and Vibrators, Oh My!

Everyone's been embarrassed. It's embarrassing. Thankfully I've outgrown blushing, as that really added insult to injury. My face appearing like it was about to explode was not a good look for me. As I've gotten older the things about which I want to die a thousand deaths have changed. When I was a preteen I would perspire in my pretty party dresses at boy/girl parties. This was a particularly nasty sight when I was wearing light purple. I would sweat down to my waist and run in fright to the blow dryer in the bathroom and stand under it until all traces of perspiration were gone. Sometimes I'd miss the slow dances. Curses. I tried Mitchums deodorant which was supposed to block my sweat glands. I figured I would either die from toxic build-up or make it through a party without ruining my dress. I've outgrown this problem.

As if sweating wasn't bad enough the next life embarrassment was buying Tampax. It was a badge of honor and a source of horror. Yea I'm a big girl and damn there's a boy in the store and he'll see me buying the highly identifiable blue box. I'd hang out in the candy aisle until all traces of the opposite sex were gone and I could run to the check-out counter, pay and leave. I was relieved and a little sweaty but not bad. I think it's worse for men who are sent out with a grocery list and there right smack dab at #10 is Tampax. Sorry big guy, I feel your pain. It is however, no tougher than another embarrassing product - condoms.  I would stand for 30 minutes staring at the choices: lubricated, medicated, intoxicated, flavored, hypoallergenic, hallucinogenic, candy coated, colored, ribbed, satin smooth...the choices gave me a headache, which actually solved my problem and I went home.


I just read I can now buy a vibrator at my local CVS, Walgreens or Walmart. It's more convenient than finding a cute little sex toy boutique but a lot more public. "Attention CVS shoppers I'm over here in the vibrator section trying desperately to figure out which one to buy and if you have a favorite, meet me in aisle 6. And I'm also here for toothpaste." To make matters more uncomfortable and kind of a conflict of interest, the vibrator section is just to the left of condoms.   What I really need is a Xanax. 


Monday, April 18, 2011

Erica Kane Don't Leave Me!

Life as I know it is about to change. In fact life as I've known it since high school is now on permanent tilt. How this could happen stuns, amazes and bums me out. I am an "All My Children" junkie and have recently learned that ABC is going to pull the needle out of my arm and yank the show, sending me into serious Erica Kane withdrawal. Someone at the network should have had the presence of mind to realize a lot of us will need re-hab and arranged a place for us to to recover; or at least a spot where we could have a big group hug and good cry. What am I supposed to watch on the treadmill now for God's sake - another freaking cooking show? Wake up network kids, not everyone cooks or cares about Virgin olive oil. Aside from the fact that I think Anthony Bourdain is totally hot and would have sex with him I'm not interested in watching him comb the Earth for exotic food groups and tribal cafes.

My love of soap operas began back in junior year of high school with "The Young and the Restless." I ditched school a lot because it was on during French. My Mom was a "Y&R" fan long after I moved on to "Ryan's Hope." OMG the boys on that show were so cute I had to switch over. I might not have learned how to conjugate the verb "etre" but I knew who was having a child out of wedlock. My addiction continued in college where no one cared if I was in class or not so I schlepped to the student union every day to watch "All My Children." Although unable to conjugate verbs in French, I have been through the trials and tribulations of all of Erica Kane's marriages. Of course I had my favorite husbands but she divorced them anyway. I knew everyone in Pine Valley, a small New England town where the entire population was attractive. A great place to live if you were single. I had significant crushes on too many Pine Valley men to mention, many of whom came to tragic ends.

The real beauty of watching "All My Children" or any soap opera was that even if you missed one year or 5 years worth of episodes you could catch up in a day. Like magic you were transported back into the lives, loves, and insideous demise of all your old "friends." It was like going home or truthfully a lot better. I will really miss Erica as I always thought she and I were similar...it's not clear how except our hair color and length. I am way behind on the husband count and at the rate I'm dating will never catch up. And although we are close in age she looks waaaay better. My only wish is that before the show ends she release the name of her plastic surgeon. I feel she owes that to me, her dedicated fan.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Dirty Laundry Is Not a Dinner Entree

I'm not great at doing laundry. Truthfully when I went off to college I had no idea how to wash or iron. I stood in front of the big white machines in the dorm and was clueless. Yes, I was spoiled and never had to do a load of wash on my own. Standing alone with my giant bag of dirty clothes was a challenge. I begged the nearest girl for help and stood by her side faithfully as I tried to memorize where to put the detergent and what dials to turn . I was a laundry loser. Little did I know there was a far far greater challenge ahead - the Mt. Everest of this process called ironing. I burned and peeled my nice Villager blouses off the iron. Everything ruined. I'd sprinkle and then sssssss the iron would make a giant burn mark on the tiny blue flowers. "To hell with this" I thought. I gave up and bought wash and wear turtle necks. I've since become far more proficient as a laundress but still don't really give a damn about the finer points, like separating whites, the various cycles, or the challenge of folding. I toss it in the drawers and slam them shut. No one knows what kind of chaos or mess is inside.

I firmly believe laundry is personal, especially when it's dirty. It should definitely remain out of sight. So imagine my surprise when I arrived at a small party and found out what they were serving for dinner was dirty laundry. I wanted to scream,

" But I'm a vegetarian!"

No one would have heard me for the, "Don't you ever call me cheap again!"

Uh oh trouble was brewing by the bar.

"This is not cheap wine and more to the point what do you ever buy?"

Whoopsie darlins' but YOU'VE GOT COMPANY! I'm over here and beginning to die a thousand deaths. The dirty laundry was being flung fast and furiously.

"I've helped support your children." (POW, BAM, WHACK!) and what have you ever done?"

I was getting nervous and itchy.

"Don't ever say that. And who cares about the wine, I was just kidding you."

But who's kidding who? No one was kidding. I felt like crawling under the table or praying I would vaporize.

I was hungry,but not for what they were serving. I wanted Salmon and a nice salad damn-it. Next time I think I'll just go to a laundromat and bring a sandwich.