TP Issues

Oh what a story...grab a kleenex as you might laugh until you cry.

I think I've mentioned before that my friend and I are walking in an effort to move more and add that dreaded exercise component to our weight loss efforts. The park where we walk is really nice. The walking track is paved and very well lighted. I always feel safe when I'm out there walking. The only thing that didn't look so hot were the bathrooms. Now, please picture in your head your worst camping trip bathroom experience. This was worse!

I should probably back up a bit and explain that before we'd gone to walk, I had drank a large amount at dinner. Normally I'm one that can hold my liquids, but not tonight...unfortunately.

We were half way around the track on our first lap when I realised there might be a problem. We talked about how dilapidated the bathrooms looked (I mean they have old time jail cells out in front of them...seriously) and I decided that I would just hold it for the remaining mile we planned to walk. Unfortunately, the further around the track we went the more I felt the need to go. So, when we got over there by the bathrooms, I just told Nina I didn't have a choice.

I briefly thought the jail cells were kind of fun and thought about bringing a camera for a photo opportunity the next time. Turning my eyes to where the door to the bathroom would be I found another iron gate looking thing. Strange, but when you've got to go...you really are only focused on one thing. Stepping into the bathroom I almost peed right there. Instead of stalls there were just toilets with concrete barriers between them.

Are you picturing this...NO doors, NO privacy, and in the first stall NO toilet paper...well not counting the wet, stuck to the floor pieces. Everyone take a moment for the involuntary shiver that you just had on the heels of that thought.

So, I quickly turn to leave, but my bladder apparently doesn't give a hoot about what the bathroom looks like. It is either pee in here or pee in my pants outside. Gosh, some choices are so hard to make! I yelled for Nina to stand watch. By this point, she's laughing and probably thanking her bladder for its holding capacity. I venture further into the bathroom (and I use the term so loosely) and find about 12 squares of toilet paper on the roll. I carefully pull off some and strategically place them around the seat of the toilet. I definitely planned to squat, but you never know.

Thank goodness for thinking ahead. Just as I bent my knees and got ready to do my business, I noticed the puddles on the floor (I'll leave any further description to your imagination...which you're probably now wishing wasn't vivid) and in my efforts to pull up the hem of my jeans, I lost my balance and landed on the toilet paper covered seat. At this point, I simply wanted to find relief and get the heck out of there. I finished quickly, wiped, flushed, and went to wash my hands. At which point in time I discovered no soap and no paper towels. Seriously, that just wouldn't fit with the decor right? I scrubbed my hands with cold water and let them air dry as we continued on our way.

Now, back on the trail, Nina and I are walking and talking when I notice that I don't feel right...back there. Trying to be discreet, I feel up my own rear. I'm sure the old man with the dog behind us found this very funny. Anyway, I finally mention my unease to Nina. Then (because I've obviously forgotten where we are...which is on the most lighted and populated part of the trail...and all the manners my mama taught me...you do not put your hands down your pants) I lift my shirt and reach back into my jeans. What do you suppose I come up with?

Yeah...a wad of toilet paper. I pull out a square or two and then in a fit of humiliation and total amusement I toss it to the ground. Yes, I know. I littered. Get over it. We walk about ten feet further and I realize I didn't get it all. So I reach back in again. Let me stop right here and say I don't know what came over me...I just had to get the TP out of my crack. (Yeah, my mama is rolling her eyes right now.) I find another wad and again toss it to the grass.

At this point, Nina is giggling hysterically. While I mention that I think I've got it all, she lets me know that I don't. Now it is hanging out of my jeans. I ask her to get it (and I'd return the favor of pulling TP out of her pants...you know if she ever had some hanging out of them) and she says no among her giggling fit. So, I reach back there and that is when Nina points out that there are people behind us.

Oh the shame....

Here I've been pulling TP out of my own pants and tossing it on the ground with an entire audience behind us. I'm sure they had a great laugh. I'll be lucky if I'm not asked to check my pants at my car before I step foot on the track.

Now, dab your eyes people and learn from me...peeing your pants is always a viable alternative, make sure TP stays where it belongs...which isn't in your pants, don't litter (there you green people...that make you feel better?), and if you feel like you've got something in your pants that shouldn't be...check it out when you get home.

I mean it folks...learn from me.

Week Of The Itch

I itch!

At first, I thought I was just feeling sympathy for my mom (who spent several hours in the ER this weekend due to an allergic reaction) or maybe my friend Lindsey who has suffered from poison ivy. Now, I'm not so sure.

I have several bug bites on my foot and ankle. I'm pretty sure I'm a magnet for things that creep and crawl and bite. Saturday night I was locked out of my house (long story about a cheap landlady and a door that swells and locks me out) and I had to wait for the landlady to bring her extra key to me. Five minutes on my porch and I was eaten alive. Thank goodness for Benadryl itch gel.

And then there is the other itch. (Sorry guys...probably want to turn back now.) The itch that involves a blunt tipped syringe, waddling like a pinguin to bed, and lying still for about 20 minutes. Ladies you know what I mean. My friend Gela suggested I get in touch with my inner dude and scratch in the privacy under my desk. I refrained...just barely. That was probably too much information...sorry.

Now, if you'll excuse me I have some creams to apply.

Intestinal Upset

Warning...read the title again and proceed with caution. It's a kind of read at your own risk type thing!

Okay, I don't know what the deal is but this better not be setting the tone for how my year is going to go. We've been in school four days and there have already been three (that's one less than four) bouts of "getting sick" in my classroom. I'll spare you the details, but today's was pretty bad. Two words...both ends.

With a new group of kids it's hard to know right away who your fakers (the ones who mysteriously get a tummy ache during work time but are fine to play at recess) are and who seriously need the trashcan. Unfortunately, today's victim came from first grade with a warning from the teacher that she was a faker. So, I didn't believe her but still gave her the trashcan in an effort to keep her on task. All I can say is thank God!

Anyway, just say a little prayer that the teacher doesn't catch any sort of intestinal upset herself!

Oh, and since we're already in the middle of such a nasty topic let me leave you with a little funny...

Little Girl: "Ms. Stewart can I go to the bathroom? My stomach hurts."

Ms. Stewart: (coming off of the aforementioned incident) "Yes, go right now!"

Ms. Stewart: (upon her return) "Does your stomach feel better?"

Little Girl: "Yes! I just had gas and my mom says that I'm supposed to have gas in the bathroom. Actually, Ms. Stewart I've had gas all morning."

Ms. Stewart: "Well, I'm glad you feel better, but let's not share that with anyone else okay?"

Relay For Life (Post Script)

***Update: 24. That is a nice number. Lots of things can be said about that number, but since that's the number of hours I've been awake you'll forgive me if I don't list them all here. I'm not feeling too creative at the moment. Yesterday I wagged some bedding things out to the Relay For Life (which promotes the American Cancer Society) campsite, but that was so silly. Oh so silly. We didn't sleep at all...not one little wink. I pretty much started to crash around 3am this morning. I got up and walked another half mile, but I think that just added to the tiredness rather than boosting any energy levels. By 5:30am I just wanted my bed. Seriously, it's a miracle I made it home without driving off the road! I fully understand now why someone might use sleep deprivation as a torture tactic. I just got up from a nice 7 hour nap (sorry to those few of you who called and got the muttered "I'm sleeping"...click) and I'm still pretty sure I'd give away any secrets that I had! I had planned on going shopping today, but I think that's a pipe dream. I'm going to do some dishes, walk to the mailbox, and just chill at home. Probably in my bed and with my pajamas still on!***

Well, it's that night. The night where me and seven of my closest co-workers do what we said we'd do when we collected all the money. We spend the night (6pm - 6am) walking around the high school track. Not all at the same time mind you...that's where the term relay comes into play.

Laps to date...okay hour: 7 (that roughly equals out to be almost 2 miles).

Now, I know you're just dying to know if there is wireless out at the high school track or what. I mean, "Just how is she posting?" might be a question you're asking yourself. Well, the answer is simple. I'm at home for a potty break.

The relay organization was kind enough to have several porta-potties brought out to the track, but I guess space was an issue. They aligned these portable bathrooms on a slight incline. I want you to fully get the picture. When you step in you stay as close to the door as possible for fear of tipping the porta-potty backwards. Yes folks...the porta-potties sit at an angle. I tried to "hover and lean forward" motion to do my business (I was all for giving the porta-potties a shot), but I just couldn't do it. I even yelled for my friend to stand behind the porta-potty just in case. She was quick to let me know that she doesn't catch tipping porta-potties.

So, we've all been taking turns running on potty breaks to people's houses. This one just happens to be my turn. And since I had a few minutes I just knew that all my loyal readers would want to read about a porta-potty! Y'all do want to read about a porta-potty right?!

Well, anyway, looks like the bathroom break is over. We're off to the track again. This is a great cause and I'm having a good time, but...isn't it morning yet?