why i avoid large metal objects and toilet seat covers and parties on boats
November 29, 2007
Today I hit my head really hard while attempting to get in my car. My forehead went right into metal, and I was sure it was going to turn into a nasty welt that would have my co-workers wondering why I stay with my abusive husband. I had to do creative things with bangs to cover up the problem area.
Things got even worse when I went to the restroom after arriving at work and was unable to remove the toilet seat cover from the backs of my thighs upon standing. I kept thwacking it away, and it kept sticking to me.
Static cling. Apparently my thighs are staticy. Who knew? I went to the restroom later in the day and the same damn thing happened with another toilet seat cover: I’d bat it with my free hand (the other hand of course being employed to hold my pants up), but the pesky cover would go right back to plastering itself against my thighs.
Having made this discovery, I bet I could do some pretty cool party tricks involving balloons. But anything with balloons and my thighs is bound to get all PG-13 real fast, and we can’t have that. Plus, doing party tricks would entail attending parties, and we can’t have that, either.
Speaking of parties, I was invited to hang out on a poetry sailboat this weekend. What’s a poetry sailboat, you ask? It’s a sailboat full of poets. Can you imagine? Maybe the idea is to lure all the Seattle-area poets out into the Puget Sound then dump us like so much toxic waste.
Probably not. It’s probably just a party, like the invitation states. But you never know. I’d better stay home, where I can do balloon tricks and know I am safe. (Unless there’s unexpected popping. That could get dangerous real fast.)
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11 Responses to “why i avoid large metal objects and toilet seat covers and parties on boats”
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This work is licensed under Creative Commons.
If you don’t credit Dana (by using her full name and preferably by linking back to the appropriate post) for however you copy, distribute, transmit or adapt her words, you are being bad. And naughty. And she will have her servant monkeys hunt you down and cut your hands off so you can never copy, distribute, transmit or adapt anyone’s work again and call it your own.
(Unless, of course, you were to use your butt cheeks to manipulate your keyboard with the copying, distributing, transmitting, adapting and whatnot, but Dana fortunately has only met one person whose butt cheeks are that talented. He could play a major third on a piano using nothing but his ass. She kids you not.).
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LOL - you have to hover!
Hope the head’s ok…
I bet hovering builds stronger bones, doesn’t it.
Go. Go on the sailboat! Just do it!
PS Have fun.
I can’t do it, Joyce! It’s like, five hours or something and there’s only a bucket toilet. Listen ~ I don’t take that kind of risk in my life: socializing, being trapped on a moving tiny space, no real bathroom. I just can’t.
There is a writing marathon Saturday at Richard Hugo House. I might go do that. It’s more my speed: There will be people there, but I can ignore them for the most part. I enjoy being in rooms full of people I don’t have to talk to.
Yes: hovering builds stronger bones. And so does going on a boat with a bucket for a toilet.
Melissa, I am so not getting on the boat. I just started therapy. We haven’t gotten to the “how to socialize with lots of people you don’t know while standing on a relatively small and unstable moving object” part of the work yet. I don’t know if we’ll ever get to that part of the work.
I sometimes wish I could be someone else just for a day ~ someone who would get on the boat and pee in the bucket and love it. Sigh.
Commiseration: The other day I was trying to put the vacuum away in a hurry, so I yanked at the cord when I was standing maybe 15 feet from the wall. And the thing unplugged all right, but it also flew up into the air and whacked me in the head. I got a welt and a cut. Right before a job interview. Classy.
I’d make the same decision about the boating. I would add to my list of reasons not to go: IT’S ON A BOAT.
(above post by ur poemz frend, who needs a new blogging name.)
SWSNBN, that is a mouthful of a name (and a terrible acronym). Do you want me to name you? If so, we can work on that via e-mail. I don’t know that I am great with names. I wanted to call myself Olivine but people told me it sounded too much like Olestra or Oleo.
Your story about the vacuum cleaner cord is the best story ever. I mean, I know it sucked at the time, but it makes for good storytelling. Thanks for sharing it with me.
Yes, I need a new name. SWSNBN is just a goofy thing to go by until I get the name. If you have any ideas that would be great. I have none.
Heh. “…it sucked at the time.” Yeah it did. Pun intended?
I do things like that EVERY day. I am teh klutz.
SWSNBN, what do you think about Olivine?
No???