Admission Is Theraputic

We all do things we're not proud of, because it makes us feel good.  Typically, these acts are referred to as "guilty pleasures".  I happen to have a lot of them. 

The worst is when the guilty pleasure is attainable in a public forum, and you forget to be sneaky about it.  

My office has packets of hot chocolate mix, available in both regular and sugar-free.  Holy crap, sugar-free!  Its like a guiltless pleasure that you bet your britches I'll find a way to guilt-ify!  

I discovered that if you put a packet of the mix in the bottom of your mug and add the coffee or hot water on top of it, it kinda turns into a sludge when you take care to stir just above it, very gingerly.  After the liquid is consumed, you're left with about a teaspoon of what resembles brownie mix at the bottom of your mug.  You can then use your tiny plastic straw stirrer thing to nibble at the sludge and my GOD is it yumaroo. 

I do the brownie sludge thing every few weeks, its definitely not something I could handle on a daily basis.  I realized in secret that Kate does it too.  

Its all well and good until you're uber focused on a task, and you take your last swig of hot chocolate, with Derek the unseen ninja standing behind you.  

His face is washed over with a look of horror  and he loudly exclaims "Oh my God, Jojo!  What is that in your cup?"

Me:  "What?  You startled me, why do you sneak up like that?"  (grabs cup and attempts to hide it)  "What cup?  Its nothing!  It's just, I had hot chocolate.  And sometimes it gathers at the bottom, that powder stuff, I guess I didnt stir well enough.  Don't worry about it!"

Derek:  "Wow, you must have forgotten to stir it completely, thats disgusting!"

Me:  (Turns red and feels forced to, so she discard her unconsumed sludge, admitting that she agrees its disgusting.)

I wanted so desperately to tell him that Kate does it too, but I thought it wouldnt be fair.  I would like to think that other people wouldn't rat me out on my weird.  

I was just dumb enough to get caught. 

I dont like ninjas. 

A Blog Response to Was's Blog

Recently, my friend Was posted an opinion-poll type blog. The question posed was:

"Yea or neigh?

I've found that lot's of people will get irate if you poop at their house. So what i'm trying to figure out is whether or not i'm being rude if I shit at somone's house, or if these people are rude for being mad.

I can see both sides of the story."

My response below is something that I decided to post here as well, because I think it'll be useful to those of you who are fellow 'Foriegn Toilet Phobia' (FTP) sufferers. I used to be one myself, and still practice the exercises which allows me to be "Free to Flush", as we say.

"The trick to pooping at someones house, pooping at work, or pooping anywhere besides your own domicile, is: Wait until you have to go so bad that its knocking at the door. Dogs are barking, and there's a turtle coming out of it's shell. Drink coffee if available to enhance effect.

Next, announce that you have to pee. Go, sit, you do your thing, and you do it quick. As soon as it kisses the water, you flush. This minimizes the smell and the chance that you will get caught. The flush will last long enough for you to finish evacuating your bowels - and maybe get in one good wipe, and the water take the evidence with it. If more than one wipe is required, do it. And then make a spectacle about "blowing your nose" and flush the remainder of your "used nose tissues".

If you're worried about "signing the bowl", or "skid marks", I find that applying a layer of TP to the top of the water before you begin will act as a barrier betwixt your poo and the porcelain - thus, eliminating worry. "

I suggest you practice at home to get this down to a science before debuting at work, friends houses, or movie theatres. Good luck.

Hypothesis? Fail.

Let's say that I used to see someone who might be a quasi-famous-person now.

Let's say he got married a few years ago, and I attempted to congratulate him through email but received no response. Twice.

Let's say that I had some free time during lunch today and was shopping for books and DVDs to keep me entertained during surgery recovery.

Let's say that I stumbled across one of the things this guy is famous for is available for inexpensive purchase on the internet.

Let's say that I was intrigued enough by the actual product to order it. No really, it looks good.

Let's say that I didn't do my research, and now realize that the site I ordered it from is a 3rd party broker, and the actual product is shipped from the product owner.

Let's say that I am terrified because aforementened quasi-famous-person is quite likely that lattermentioned private seller, who will recognize me when he receives my name and shipping address and will likely think I am obsessive and stalking him because I've emailed him twice and am apparently "searching for him on the internet".

I'm an idiot. All I wanted were some Roald Dahl books.

Out - Of - My - Mind

Its absolutely IMPOSSIBLE to do any work when there has been God Forsaken JACKHAMMERING going on for 6 hours (and counting...) about 10 yards from my desk:


Jackhammering




Dear Kennett Square,

SERIOUSLY?!

Love,

-Joj

Sausage Casing, $9.08

I bought a new skirt yesterday at Target, upon returning a blazer I bought last weekend. The skirt is super cute, there's a sexytime zipper in the back that goes all the way from the bottom to the top. It was 75% off, I got it for $9.08! I was proud of myself when I bought it because Target sizes are usually small, and I was able to buy the sexy zipper skirt in my regular size. I even tried it on, just to be sure. I should mention that I hadn't eaten all day yesterday at the point when I did the on-trying, and still thought buying a snug, tailored skirt was a good idea.

Developments of the day today show that I should never purchase my true size at Target.

I should have recognized the omen this morning, of how when I went to get in the Beastie, my range of motion was severely impaired by the snug-to-my-knees hem of my sexy zipper skirt. My 4-inch heel did not clear the Beastie's running board, I then fell face first into my center console.

You should never buy your ideal size at Target, especially when you debut your sexy sexy skirt on a coworker/friends birthday. Especially when that coworker/friend is the Cupcake Queen, and brought in Banana Chocolate cupcakes to celebrate said birthday. Especially when you go out for lunch (for said coworkers said birthday, prior to said supcakes) and get an incredibly rich grilled veggie wrap and eat the whole thing, and the fries that came with it. Especially when you go to Starbucks after lunch and get a venti iced tea. Especially when you went to Starbucks on the way to work and got a venti iced coffee.

Death bloat. Even undoing the zipper a little doesnt help. I cant wait to go home and change.