Monday, January 21, 2013

The Toilet Paper Chronicles

(post copyright 2013, Dawn Weber)

Tell me: Is it too much to ask?



Yes. Yes, apparently, it is.


Lord knows, I've tried. I've requested. I've instructed. I've coached. I've begged, pleaded and cajoled.


I've cried.


It's a metaphor for parenting, really. Just as in life, children use it all up, and leave you with none. They take and take and give you nothing, bleed you dry.


Or wet as the case may be.


But you hope and you pray and you think that maybe, someday, things will be different - they'll give back to you all that you've given to them. So you go back in, you sit down, you say a little prayer, and you turn your head and look.


What do you see? You see this:




As you can tell by the pictures, I even went out and bought a gadget that's simple - a veritable TP Holder for Dummies and Children. You can imagine my excitement when I found this particular device. It's designed with an easy on/off spindle. You simply A: Slide cardboard off; and B: Slide new roll on. There's nothing complicated here, no removal of spring-loaded rods, no messing around with various parts. Off . . . on.


I called to the kids. I pulled them into the bathroom and demonstrated the procedure.


"Look, you guys, how easy!" I said, sliding the spool back and forth. "You can do this now - you can replace the toilet paper! Off . . . on! Off . . . on! Easy!"


I trembled with joy.


They yawned and went back to their iPods.


What did I get, on the next empty roll? I got this:


And people wonder why I drink.



Still, some headway was made here. I was left with a new roll, though I didn't see it until I'd already reached under the counter, refilled the holder, wiped, flushed and cussed out those two rugrats.


But in my heart, a small flicker of hope ignited, because as a wise, wise woman named Whitney Houston once said:
"I believe that children are our future
Teach them well and let them lead the way . . ."


So I waited for the future. I had, I believed, taught them well. I let them lead the way.



Then, one day, a day like any other, I walked in, I sat down, I took a deep breath, and looked to the left, and I saw this:



You? You'd probably call that a TP FAIL.


But I? I call it progress.


Half-assed progress.

And, sure as shit, I'll take it.

________________________________________________________________________

So inspired was I by the TP chronicles that I wrote a chapter for my upcoming book about it. Here is an excerpt, the . . .

Toilet Paper Replacement Super-Procedure:

1. Make sure that you're settled in, half naked and releasing bodily fluids before checking TP situation. Turn head and see: cardboard.


2. Cuss. Like a f*cking sailor.


3. Rise from the toilet. Ensure pants are wrapped around the ankles, and whatever you were excreting drips swiftly down your legs.


4. Shuffle awkwardly to bathroom cupboard, open, and peer in: Drano, Tampax, Comet cleanser. But no toilet paper. Not even a box of tissues.


5. Cuss. Like a f*cking sailor.


6. Yell loudly, "Can someone bring me a roll of mother-&*^($%**# TOILET PAPER!" Repeat several times. Then remember that you're the only one home. . . "

Stay tuned!

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

New Year's Resolutions? Nope. New Year's Realisms


(post copyright 2013, Dawn Weber)

Positive thinking: You're at the wrong blog.


Realistic thinking? Come, young grasshopper - sit by me.


I finally get it. That's right. I've found enlightenment, peace, all that happy horse-crap, and since it's the new year, I'd thought I'd share.


The path to happiness is . . .


Low expectations and standards.


Yep. You've heard it a thousand times, "Have hope! Chin up! Things will turn around!"  


But verily, I say to you, "Have no hope! Head down and power through! Things could remain the same but will likely go straight down the shitter!"


To that end, here at the Lighten Up Center for Keepin' It Real, we have developed the "Low Expectations & Standards System," (LESS) and its message is - surprisingly enough - keep your expectations and standards low, low, low. 

The "Low Expectations & Standards System" works especially well in January. Here's how "New Year's Resolutions" become "New Year's Realisms" with the LESS program.


This year:


I resolve to lose weight.

I will probably gain at least five more pounds.


I resolve to work harder.
I will probably work harder . . . at checking Facebook on company time.


I resolve to become a more spiritual person. 
I will probably continue buying ridiculous amounts of material things that fail to make me happy.

I resolve to attend church more often. 

I will probably glance at the clock, roll over, and go back to sleep. Every Sunday morning.


I resolve to drink less. 
I will probably maintain or increase my intake of alcoholic beverages.


I resolve to eat healthier foods.
I will probably keep greedily consuming all manner of crunchy Frito-Lay products.


I resolve to get organized. 
I will probably collect more crap and eventually end up on "Hoarders."

I will volunteer 

I will probably avoid volunteering at all costs.

I will read more books. 

I will probably only read Facebook, Pinterest and blog posts of no more than a few paragraphs.


I will save money. 
I will probably buy more useless junk that stalls my efforts to save money and get organized, and eventually end up on "Hoarders."


I will quit procrastinating. 
I will probably quit procrastinating . . . tomorrow . . . next week . . .  maybe next year . . .


I resolve to learn something new. 
I will probably be much too busy to learn anything new, what with procrastinating, hoarding and avoiding volunteering.

See there? Simply by replacing the phrase "resolve to" with "will probably,"  you too can find harmony and be happy with LESS, just by embracing reality. Always remember our mantra, which is not "It could be worse," but rather "It will probably get worse."


With the "Low Expectations & Standards System," there is none of that "pesky disappointment" when things don't go "your way." Because - inevitably - many things won't go your way. It's called "adulthood." 


And it largely "sucks."


With that joyous thought, we at the Lighten Up! Center for Keepin' It Real wish you a very lazy, very average and - most of all - a very REALISTIC new year.


You're welcome.

______________________________________________________________________


Four chapters done now, and what? Like 50 more to go to get enough for a book.
*Sob*

Somebody, please - hold me. Or at least send a nice box of wine,
Anyway, as promised, here's a blurb from my next book chapter, tentatively entitled "Breakin' the Law, Breakin' the Law," about riding with Grandma.

". . . Yep. Grandma got pulled over by a trooper, driving down to our house Christmas Day.


She was pleased with herself.

"What? I didn't get a ticket and I made it in record time!"


None of this surprised us. Getting stopped is what Grandma does. Over and over over again.


It's nice when the elderly have hobbies.


You've seen the older drivers, the senior citizens, the Buicks rolling along at 15 m.p.h.?


Grandma is the one flipping the bird as she passes them . . . "


Stay tuned!