Did you really think that you could get away with leaving a sign on the door saying “Back in 15 minutes” when it is pouring down rain and I want to rent a movie WITHOUT ME CALLING YOU OUT ON MY BLOG?
An incident in the women’s bathroom
Tonight I had my fiction class at UVA. It was great, as usual, but I was drinking a forty of Hurricane during workshop and consequently had to take frequent trips to the restroom. It was actually a twenty of Diet Doctor Pepper. I was alone in the restroom when I heard a very loud pair of shoes barge in and loiter in front of my stall door, where I was actively urinating. The hinges on the door allowed for a lot of peeping space, and I nervously ducked down because the intruder was obviously checking me out through the cracks. Then the person went into the stall next to mine. I saw white tennis shoes and socks facing the toilet under the division. I heard a male voice murmuring to the bowl, but no liquid or flush, and then suddenly the person stomped out without washing his hands. The whole incident took less than half a minute. I tried to finish up quickly so I could catch the culprit, but DDP creates a long stream. A female classmate entered the bathroom as I was exiting the stall, feeling very violated.
“Did you see someone leaving?” I said. “I think a man was just in here.”
“Oh yeah,” she said. “I think it was___(another classmate). He was in here last week too.”
I furiously washed my hands and returned to the classroom, where __’s complacent white tennis shoes confirmed my suspicions. Not wanting to embarrass the guy, but also really wanting to embarrass him, I said, “Hey __. Were you just in the women’s bathroom?”
“Oh, was I?” he said, unapologetically. “Yeah maybe. I get them mixed up all the time.” Evidently the little skirt on the bathroom door says nothing to this guy except “Lift me up.”
How dare the world make me write about government spending?
Isn’t the whole point of a bureaucracy to keep this stuff from happening? I never thought I was very good at math, but perhaps I could have had a career as a government accountant. It’s just play money anyway. I feel like government officials and heads of state must have some real currency that they don’t tell us about. We’re all chumps for trading goods and services for paper dollars, while they know that only glass beads or cinnamon or something has true value. Why else would they offer a trillion bucks for Baltic Avenue?
The U.S. State Department is unable to account for most of $1.2 billion in funding that it gave to DynCorp International to train Iraqi police, a government report said Tuesday.
“The bottom line is that State can’t account for where it went,” said Glenn D. Furbish.
Of course it can’t. This reminds me why I like to take my car when Darren and I go to appointments together. Loose change always falls from his right pocket into the space between the passenger seat and the car door. On Saturday Big Wis and I were excited to find three quarters there before we went to the park.
Plastic in our oceans, plastic in our bodies
When will American industrialists realize that they have created a chemical Molotov cocktail? If people don’t care about the environment, they can at least care about their gay babies and their back fat.
“Except for the small amount that’s been incinerated—and it’s a very small amount—every bit of plastic ever made still exists,” [Captain Charles] Moore says, describing how the material’s molecular structure resists biodegradation. Instead, plastic crumbles into ever-tinier fragments as it’s exposed to sunlight and the elements. And none of these untold gazillions of fragments is disappearing anytime soon: Even when plastic is broken down to a single molecule, it remains too tough for biodegradation.
Lead in lipstick
I always knew there was a reason why I choose to look so frumpy. It turns out I am a scientist. National news outlets like CNN have been picking up this story today about the presence of unsafe doses of lead in popular lipsticks made by L’Oreal, Dior, and Cover Girl.
More than half of 33 brand-name lipsticks tested (61 percent) contained detectable levels of lead, with levels ranging from 0.03 to 0.65 parts per million (ppm). None of these lipsticks listed lead as an ingredient.
One-third of the tested lipsticks exceeded the U.S. Food and Drug Administration’s 0.1 ppm limit for lead in candy – a standard established to protect children from directly ingesting lead. Lipstick products, like candy, are directly ingested into the body. Nevertheless, the FDA has not set a limit for lead in lipstick, which fits with the disturbing absence of FDA regulatory oversight and enforcement capacity for the $50 billion personal care products industry.
Research money is finally going to the study of harsh chemicals in cosmetics, and I couldn’t be happier about it, even though the published findings will continue to be scary. Women (and the men and babies that are kissed and snuggled regularly by women) need to demand that the FDA regulates the chemical content of cosmetics. When harsh cosmetics aren’t swallowed or absorbed directly into the skin, they are washed into our water supply where they cause untold environmental damage.
Here is a great local website – environmentalhealthnews.org – that chronicles the problems in more depth.
Here is a website that will tell you which beauty products are safe and which are not: Skin Deep
Abortion doesn’t quit for lunch
Those protesters are still at it in front of the Planned Parenthood building on Hydraulic Road. I think their numbers are growing. They remind me of the chimpanzee militia in last night’s episode of Planet Earth. The chimps decided they wanted to expand their territory so they raided a fig tree where some other chimps were hanging out and they killed and devoured a young female from the other clan. I know the protesters aren’t eating babies, but they’re still annoying. At the same time I think it’s kinda sweet that they care so much about the youth. Those fetus-happy ladies have to stand on the sidewalk for long shifts, waving signage, shaking their rosary beads, trying to look beatific every time a car honks at them or a passerby gives them the thumbs-up. That must get exhausting.
When the refrigerator repairman came over the other day, we started talking about the Sacagawea protest while he was deep in the freezer. “I don’t get it,” he said. “Who cares about a statue? Now those abortion protesters – at least they’re concerned with life and death.” I didn’t argue with him because all our frozen pizzas were thawing out and I was worried we wouldn’t have anything for dinner. It’s important to stand by your beliefs.
Wheelchairs should come with seatbelts
Seriously. How else am I supposed to keep my grandmother from falling out when we do wheelies across Locust Avenue? And while we’re on the subject of wheelchair upgrades, have amputees never heard of rims? Or subwoofers?
An open letter to Angelina Jolie
Dear Angelina,
I heard the moving story you told at the Clinton Global Initiative about two Syrian refugees. You spoke of a young boy who cared for a man who, for religious reasons, had been tortured and left in a trash can to die. The man’s wounds were infected and riddled with maggots and the impoverished boy nursed him back to health.
Angelina, this is a good story, and a heartbreaking one, but I know something you don’t. Maggots actually promote healing because they eat the bacteria in open wounds. Maggots are natural debriders of necrotic tissue – they precisely remove the bad and leave the good. Meanwhile they disinfect wounds and assist in the healing process. So Angie, next time you want to cry about something, don’t cry about maggots. Maggots are on your side. Maggots are humanitarians too. Maggots were in Syria helping people way before you were. Keep up the good work though.
xo
Wistar
PS Feel free to comment on my blog.
First stop, MTV Video Music Awards; second stop, Vatican City
Alicia Keys went on a spiritual quest to Egypt and she had this to say:
I needed to get out of town and clear my head, I went to Egypt. It was such a miraculous experience for me. I crawled to the top of the pyramid and I just sang at the top of my lungs right there. People walking in acted like I was crazy; I didn’t care.
American celebrities are such a spiritually enlightened bunch. “I went to St. Peter’s,” says Pop Starlet #9, “and I really felt God’s presence there, touching me personally. I felt blessed and I didn’t care who knew it. I took off all my clothes and started humping the Pieta.”
Also
A few too many grandmother posts. I will try to cool off and cut back.