I have three half finished posts, I am really, really over tired, I should be asleep but I am like a nine year old who's parents have gone out for the night and left them with a negligent babysitter. The truth is, I started working about ten days ago now and I am still dealing with or rather reeling from the shock that I am wearing proper, colour coordinated clothes before noon, showering once a day and eating at regular intervals (because we all know that work is really just an activity that fills the empty hours between mealtimes).
I would love to be all humorous and chirpy and rah rah, work rocks and baby am I stoked about going back to being a working girl who works hard for her money...that the clothes I'm wearing, I'VE GOT IT..the rock I'm rocking, I'VE GOT IT (this Beyonce moment was brought to you by a delirious mother of a three year old who, if she had a brain cell left after years of neglect and downright abuse, would know that sleep is the better option).
Bear with me, I plan to get my mojo back any day now.
Oh, and I have another thing to add to my Master List of shit to do before I bite the biscuit.
21. Commandeer a vehicle.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
pottytalk
I started back to work today and I am feeling less than inspired; in fact, I feel downright uninspired, actually, I feel a bit grumpy. This has nothing to do with work per se, it has everything to do with the crushing realisation that I can't nap whenever I want whilst I am at work. This is a huge shortcoming of working that I hadn't really considered previously but it was brought into stark focus for me today when I found myself wanting to siesta.
All of this being said, I can share an interesting tidbit of toilet information because we all know that toilet information is what makes the world go round. Forget politics, human interest stories, world events and human achievement; when we want to be entertained, we want some good 'ole potty talk. So here goes.
For those of you who have never ventured outside of North America, there is in the rest of world something called a squat toilet. I could delve into the specifics but suffice it to say that it's basically a hole of one variety or another into which you must pee from great heights whilst attempting not to wee on your foot or cover your ankles in urinary backsplash. I am terrified of the squat toilet and I believe that I would prefer to raise my leg on a fire hydrant in broad daylight rather than use a squat I might even prefer to give birth than to use a squat and that's saying a lot. Even more terrifying than me having to use a squat, is having no choice but for Baby Girl to use a squat. I sort of half-heartedly tried it once and was met with stern, verging on hysterical resistance. We used a bush.
Now, before I offend anyone, I am not really suggesting there is anything wrong with the squat toilet. It's just that I wasn't brought up using one so I just don't get the physics of it all. It would be like waking up with a penis. I just wouldn't know the first thing about how one dresses, sits, runs or pees with such an appendage. I think you get my drift.
You may be surprised to learn that I have had a number of conversations about the squat toilets with others unfamiliar in the ways of the squat. Basically, they all boil down to horror stories of having no alternative and well...the ending is never pretty. Mine involves a concrete shack in Mumbai, some goats and a dude with a bucket of water. That's all I will say.
One story in particular that has stayed with me was relayed by a very professional friend. She said that at her rather professional workplace, she had, in the early days, noticed that the toilets were oddly dirty for such a professional environ. Moreover, she noted posted signs that appeared to depict a high heel on a toilet seat with a red slash through it that seemed to say, "hey, high heels and toilet seats are a big NO NO" Hmmmmm, high heels on toilet seats, surely you jest, surely you don't mean that professional women were hiking up their pencil skirts and leaping onto toilet seats with their Manolos to use your garden variety sit down toilet as a squat? The visual was too bizarre, the idea cuckoo n'est pas?
Fast forward to this weekend, we are out in the New Territories getting some fresh air and Baby Girl needs to go potty. Not a problem, into the loo we go and I quickly realise that it's a squat bathroom. In Hong Kong, this doesn't alarm me as there is generally at least one sit down toilet. I head for the one sit down toilet and push open the door and to my horror, I am staring at the exposed butt cheeks of a woman who forgot to lock the toilet door and yes, people, I am staring at her butt because she is standing ON THE TOILET SEAT and peeing from like three feet off the ground. It was like she was the Jackie Chan of urination; I half expected her to reward my bumblefoolery with a round house kick to the head, all accomplished whilst expertly perched on the top of the toilet seat. If I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes, I wouldn't have believed it, notwithstanding the whole story above about Manolos and toilet seats. It's the sort of thing that you have to see to really and truly appreciate. Normally, I would be mollified to find myself in such an embarrassing situation but it was like sighting the Sasquatch or getting BINGO.
It's not often that something happens that is odd and funny and queer and totally inconsequential but it did and it was the best thing that happened to me on Tuesday.
All of this being said, I can share an interesting tidbit of toilet information because we all know that toilet information is what makes the world go round. Forget politics, human interest stories, world events and human achievement; when we want to be entertained, we want some good 'ole potty talk. So here goes.
For those of you who have never ventured outside of North America, there is in the rest of world something called a squat toilet. I could delve into the specifics but suffice it to say that it's basically a hole of one variety or another into which you must pee from great heights whilst attempting not to wee on your foot or cover your ankles in urinary backsplash. I am terrified of the squat toilet and I believe that I would prefer to raise my leg on a fire hydrant in broad daylight rather than use a squat I might even prefer to give birth than to use a squat and that's saying a lot. Even more terrifying than me having to use a squat, is having no choice but for Baby Girl to use a squat. I sort of half-heartedly tried it once and was met with stern, verging on hysterical resistance. We used a bush.
Now, before I offend anyone, I am not really suggesting there is anything wrong with the squat toilet. It's just that I wasn't brought up using one so I just don't get the physics of it all. It would be like waking up with a penis. I just wouldn't know the first thing about how one dresses, sits, runs or pees with such an appendage. I think you get my drift.
You may be surprised to learn that I have had a number of conversations about the squat toilets with others unfamiliar in the ways of the squat. Basically, they all boil down to horror stories of having no alternative and well...the ending is never pretty. Mine involves a concrete shack in Mumbai, some goats and a dude with a bucket of water. That's all I will say.
One story in particular that has stayed with me was relayed by a very professional friend. She said that at her rather professional workplace, she had, in the early days, noticed that the toilets were oddly dirty for such a professional environ. Moreover, she noted posted signs that appeared to depict a high heel on a toilet seat with a red slash through it that seemed to say, "hey, high heels and toilet seats are a big NO NO" Hmmmmm, high heels on toilet seats, surely you jest, surely you don't mean that professional women were hiking up their pencil skirts and leaping onto toilet seats with their Manolos to use your garden variety sit down toilet as a squat? The visual was too bizarre, the idea cuckoo n'est pas?
Fast forward to this weekend, we are out in the New Territories getting some fresh air and Baby Girl needs to go potty. Not a problem, into the loo we go and I quickly realise that it's a squat bathroom. In Hong Kong, this doesn't alarm me as there is generally at least one sit down toilet. I head for the one sit down toilet and push open the door and to my horror, I am staring at the exposed butt cheeks of a woman who forgot to lock the toilet door and yes, people, I am staring at her butt because she is standing ON THE TOILET SEAT and peeing from like three feet off the ground. It was like she was the Jackie Chan of urination; I half expected her to reward my bumblefoolery with a round house kick to the head, all accomplished whilst expertly perched on the top of the toilet seat. If I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes, I wouldn't have believed it, notwithstanding the whole story above about Manolos and toilet seats. It's the sort of thing that you have to see to really and truly appreciate. Normally, I would be mollified to find myself in such an embarrassing situation but it was like sighting the Sasquatch or getting BINGO.
It's not often that something happens that is odd and funny and queer and totally inconsequential but it did and it was the best thing that happened to me on Tuesday.
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