Public Bathroom Hijinx!!!

Not of the George Michael variety, that's a whole other blog.

This is probably going to be just for the guys, since I don't normally go into the women's room. Maybe the womens will appreciate it, but I'm thinking not. I usually get the frowny face when I start talking about bathroom stuff, which is often. But I digress.

Have you noticed that you never see floor length urinals anymore? Have you EVER seen them? The last floor length urinals I used regularly were in my elementary school, and here's why you probably don't see them anymore: they are very easy to stop up and flood the bathroom. And yes, I speak from personal experience. When I was in 1st grade my friend Mike and I were in the bathroom, and it seemed to be a good idea to fill the urinals with toilet paper and flush them numerous times. This was in the 70s, so there wasn't any crap about conserving water, so there was a lot of it all over the floor quickly. I guess we brought wet footprints into the class because we got busted, but instead of giving us detention, they made us apologize to Mr. Hermanns, who was the custodian that had to clean it up. I felt terrible after that, which I guess was the point, and I never did it again. (As a side note, I later found out that Mr. Hermanns was a twice or thrice decorated WW II veteran. And now that I think about it, there were other custodians in the middle school and high school who were also veterans from Korea and Viet Nam. Maybe they were isolated incidents, but it doesn't seem fair.)

Remember the classic hand dryer instructions?

1)Push button.

2)Rub hands gently under warm air.

Did you ever see a dryer that actually had this printed on it? Maybe if you were installing the dryer, but if not, you probably did not see those words. What you actually saw was words and letters scratched out, so it read

1)Push butt.

2)Rub hands gently under arm.

It was the same on every single dryer that you used in any bathroom that had a hand dryer in it. Maybe this even spread to the women's room at some point, but I don't know. I wonder if the company that made them gave up after awhile and scratched the letters out themselves, just like Wheel of Fortune gives you the R S T L N and E for the last puzzle, since those were the only letters that anyone ever picked. But now they have circumvented this problem by having pictures instead of writing. There's the pressing the button picture, the rubbing the hands under the warm air picture, and then the picture I can only describe as peeking inside the dryer and getting acid thrown in your eyes. What does that one mean? Can you actually pull down the dryer thing and dry your eyeballs out? I haven't found one yet where you could do this.

One ineluctable (I had to look that up) part of the men's bathroom is the graffiti. There are web sites and blogs devoted to this, but I want to mention something you don't always see, which is corrected graffiti. If you're a Mad Magazine fan from way back, you know what I'm talking about. Anyway, there's a public bathroom that I go into quite often which apparently is also frequented by a member of the KKK, since it has been carved into the stall twice. Some very nice person (probably not in the KKK) has disguised both of these carvings. The first one now says "CHICKKKENS," which is kind of odd because you don't see a lot of chickens using the public restroom. The other one now says "BOOKKEEPER," which is much more clever, because there definitely could have been a bookkeeper using this particular stall, and the KKK is just a little more hidden than in the previous example. This kind soul may also have been the one who carved "PLEASE DO NOT WRITE ON THIS WALL." He said please, right? We must listen to a man that says please.

Finally, a word of advice to manufacturers of public bathroom products that have their company name emblazoned on said products: if your company name has the word "ass" contained in it somehow, PLEASE consider changing the name of your company. Seriously, you're just asking for trouble. I have been in a bathroom where they have the tissue paper rings for the toilet (and really, what a waste of an invention) in a plastic dispenser, with the words "REST ASSURED" written across it. They are raised letters in the plastic, but someone will see it and bring some sandpaper with them next time, and perhaps make it say "REST ASS HERE." I know someone will do this because I have already thought of it. It may take awhile though, because the dispenser was put in upside down. Maybe to discourage the inevitable defacing.

The 16 year old me would be horrified by the 39 year old me.

Do you remember the song "Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen)," that came out in 1999? Had lots of nifty life-living advice in it and was NOT written by Kurt Vonnegut? Yeah, that's the one. One of the lines in it is "You're not as fat as you imagine." When I was in school, I considered myself to be fat. I tried to wear long shirts to cover up my gut and I never wore shorts, so I wouldn't expose my thunderous thighs to anyone. But the song is right, and has been proven by the old pictures of me that have been posted on Facebook by my school friends. What the hell was I thinking? NOW I am fat, or at least overweight, and it's a lot harder to do something about it these days. Sometimes I actually pine for the days of mandatory twice-a-week aerobics.

The other day at work, I went into the bathroom about halfway through the day. I then noticed that I forgot to brush my hair that morning, and I wasn't wearing a hat, which is de rigeur for me. I couldn't brush it then because I didn't have a brush with me. So I said "meh" and went back to work. This would have been INCONCEIVABLE to me in high school. I always took a shower in the morning and blow-dried my hair, in order to get it to do what I wanted (which rarely happened). I always had my brush sticking out of my back pocket, and I spent copious amounts of time in front of the mirror in the assistant band director's office trying again to get it right. You would think with a hair obsession like mine, that I would have caved in to men's hair products, but I never did. Nowadays I can't be bothered with a blow dryer or carrying a brush, and the only time I use a product in my hair is when my hair is getting too long and I'm too lazy to make a haircut appointment, so I put some Frizz-Ease on the sides so I don't look like Wolverine. But you know what? I'm the only one who cares.

If you read this, then you'll know that I hated working in my dad's bakery when I was in high school. I would rather have been spending time with my friends. I guess MORE time would actually be correct. You wouldn't have been able to convince me back then that I would still be a baker 20 years later, plus the fact that I love doing it and I put everything I have (and sometimes even what I don't have) into it. I was planning on becoming a rock star, thank you very much. Rock stars don't bake. Well, not in that way.

The only tolerable thing about my loathsome job was the money. I always had money, and I always wanted more. This wasn't just in high school, it lasted well into my 30s, which I think was because I didn't have as much as I did when I was a teenager. I don't know what caused my turnaround regarding money, but I'm glad it's not as important to me as it was. Don't get me wrong, it is of course important to live and eat and all of that. If we lost all of our money tomorrow, Sarah and I would still have each other, and as cliche as that may sound, it's true. My relationship with Sarah and the rest of our family is much more important than our bank account. You can always get more money, right?

I sometimes think that I haven't changed much over the course of my life. I wonder if I think that because almost everything about me has changed? Good thing too, because I was really obnoxious in high school.

Yes, I'm going with the past tense there, thanks. 

Too much television

As I said in my previous post, I was sick for over a week and I stayed home from work for four days. I was too weak to do anything, and I couldn't get too much sleep, so mostly what I did was watch tv. I haven't watched that much tv in a long long time. I thought I might be on the internet more, but I couldn't sit back and maybe fall asleep while I was on the internet, so I stayed on the couch.

We have Comcast, so the On Demand channel got a hefty workout this week. I went through all the South Park episodes they had, and most of the stand-up comedy shows, which weren't as funny as I had hoped (that could have been me being sick, but I ain't watching 'em again). I also watched Talladega Nights, which was absolutely terrible. I love Will Ferrell, but it seems that I only like him when other people write for him, because I loved Stranger Than Fiction and I hated Anchorman. I watched the Man vs. Wild with him as a guest, and that was pretty good. I did not feel bad enough about myself to order episodes of the Facts of Life, even if they were free.

Sarah went out and got some movies for us to watch when she was home. She had a lot of stuff to do this week, so she wasn't home a few nights. She got Blade for us, which wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. We also watched 1408, which was alright. She got me Role Models to watch by myself, and that was the best of the bunch. Very very funny. We also watch what was left of our DVR shows, which was mainly the Unusuals. It got cancelled, which is a shame. It's like a cross between Homicide:Life On The Street and Barney Miller, with a little bit of NYPD Blue thrown in for good measure. I hate it when they cancel good shows.

My blog is getting more interesting with each post. I am destined for greatness. :/

Sick.

Last Wednesday I went to my hometown of South Plainfield NJ to visit my friend Mike, who I haven't seen in 17 years or so. I left my house at 5 am and planned on leaving SP at 5 pm, White Castle dinner in tow. Unfortunately it didn't happen that way.

I woke up that morning with a bit of a sore throat, which I attributed to the windows being open. It has been very cool overnight for the last few weeks, and I like having the windows open at night. I thought nothing of it. I got to SP around 8 and picked up Mike, and we went to a diner for breakfast and talked for a long time. We then drove around town for awhile, noting all the changes since the last time I was there. Then we made it out to Middlesex Mall, which is no longer the mall that I grew up going to. It's just a few large department stores now. It was then that I started to feel sick. I got a bad case of the chills and was actually shaking at one point, but I was hoping that it would go away. We went to lunch, but I couldn't eat anything, so I decided that I should go home. I didn't want to leave so early, but I was feeling very bad, and I didn't know why. Mike is a Doctor, so he gave me some advice before I left, which I followed once I got home.

On my way home I called my co-worker Liz and asked her if it would be okay if I called out on Thursday, which is her day off. I have to tell you how significant this is. I hadn't called Sarah yet to tell her that I was sick and coming home early. She is usually the one to make me stay home, and she does not always succeed, because I am very stubborn about going to work. My work ethic is pretty intense: I will go to work no matter what, I don't always ask for help when I need it, and I put everyone else at work before me. I have gone to work 3 times while passing a kidney stone; I just kept my fingers crossed on the ride to work, took a Percocet when I got there, did my job, and left when the Percocet wore off. So by intense, I guess I mean stupid.

Liz said it wasn't a problem (she's Amish, which gives her an intense work ethic also), so I stayed home on Thursday. My fever was still pretty high, despite following what Mike said, so I also called out for Friday. When I get really sick like this, it takes me awhile to get over it, but I was feeling much better on Friday. My fever seemed to be gone, but I was kind of weak and tired, and my eyes were all red and watering. But I felt like I had to go back to work, so I went in on Saturday. My eyes were sealed shut with goo when I woke up, so I thought that I had pink eye in both eyes. It didn't look like the pink eye I had when I was a kid, but I looked it up online, and that's what was happening with my eyes. It's too late for me to call out at midnight, so I had to go in anyway. Liz set me up real well so I didn't have to do much, I left a lot of it to do on Monday.

Sunday was probably the worst day; my eyes were full of goo and I couldn't see well, I was developing a cough, and I could not sleep more than two hours at a time. I have to use a CPAP when I sleep, and it has a mask that covers my nose so I can breathe at night. I would wake up soon after I went to sleep with the mask full of goo, so I would go downstairs and try to sleep there. Not being able to sleep when you're tired  and really sick absolutely sucks. I feel terrible for all of you insomniacs out there.

I called out again on Monday, and I made a Dr. appointment, which I should have done on Friday, but I am stupid. The Dr. said that I had one of the viruses that had been going around (probably not the swine flu, he said), and that I may have been developing bronchitis. So he gave me an antibiotic and drops for my eyes, and told me that I could go back to work on Thursday. I feel very bad for Liz because she has to do all this stuff by herself, but there's no way I would get anything done if I went in.

I am hoping to get some sleep tonight (I tried this afternoon with the CPAP, but I woke up with a coughing fit after a few hours) and tomorrow also. I will probably go in a little early on Thursday, just in case I am a little slow. I'm a bit worried though, I haven't been out for so many consecutive days since 1994 when I had a tonsillectomy. And I don't get paid sick time at work, so I am going to have to use 4 vacation days for this. I still have over a week, so it works out okay.

Wow, so now you know in intimate detail all about my various secretions. Congratulations!