Potty Humor

As a single woman who lives by myself in my own home, there are certain things to which I’ve become accustomed. 

This is not one of them:

Really?!

Do all men leave the toilet seat up?  I feel like I need to update my Eharmony Must Haves and Can’t Stands.  Like, right this minute.

My brother and cousin, C.P., (the toilet seat offenders) came down this weekend to watch the Phillies play the Nats in D.C.  They also did some work on my house which was most appreciated.  So despite the toilet seat thing, it was a fun weekend.  Not to mention, I got a cool new laundry sink and a fixed closet door out of the deal! 

A new laundry sink in the basement!

The fixed closet door!

But still, the toilet seat thing - Grrr!        

The First Time

The first time is so nerve-wracking.  There are a lot of unknowns – what if I don’t know what to do?  How long does it take?  Does weight matter?  Is it going to be dirty and smelly?  Well, okay, the smelly part doesn’t matter much to me.

On Saturday, I went to the landfill for the first time.  It was pretty awesome.  I haven’t had that much fun in a long time!  My dad and I loaded up our cars with all of the construction debris that’s been piled in my backyard since November when my brother installed my (beautiful) hardwood floors and made the journey to my county’s landfill. 

As we drove into the park-like facility, I nervously checked all the signs – do I go to the Convenience Center where they take household trash?  Do I go to the section where they take wood? (No!  Wood in this case is like, actual trees and stuff!)  I figured out that we had to go to the section where they take construction and demolition material (C&D waste).  Then came the next nerve-wracking moment - waiting to drive onto the scales so they could weigh my C&D waste-filled car.  There was a sign that instructed me to wait until the car in front of me proceeded off the scale.  That made me really nervous.  Like, what if I go too soon?  Will I screw up the guy in front of me?  Will the scale people yell at me?  It was the same nervousness that I sometimes experience going through the EZ Pass lanes at the toll plazas…that split second where you don’t know if you should go or not because the machine doesn’t say:  Thank You.  EZ Pass Paid.

I managed to get on the scale without incident.  The Silver Bullet weighed 2,960 pounds.  Impressive, I know.  I was directed to the C&D waste area and, yes, I panicked again because I didn’t know where to go.  I really need clear instructions.  There were four bays, numbered 4-7.  The scale lady handed me a ticket that had a big “1” on it.  What the heck did that mean?!  Was I supposed to go to Bay 1?  But there wasn’t a Bay 1.  Luckily, one of the friendly landfill men came up and explained what I already figured out – the scale people don’t explain things very well.  (The ticket had nothing to do with where you go…it was for something else entirely!)

Once I got it all figured out, the fun started.  You literally just throw all your trash or wood or whatever into a big garage-like building!  It took about an hour for my dad and I to load up our cars…it took about ten minutes for us to empty them!  The cars get weighed again on the way out – after unloading all the trash, the Silver Bullet weighed 2,740 pounds.  She lost 220 pounds in just ten minutes!  I wish I could lose weight in ten minutes…it’d definitely help the muffin top!  The best part – I only had to pay $7 for my entire load!  How can you beat that?    

Going to the landfill was a new, fun experience.  I can’t wait to go again!  I bet the second time will be even better!

Woman with Lawn Mower



My 1st lawn mower.
It lasted about five minutes.



What I’m going to say next might tick off some of my more feminist-minded friends:  I think some tasks are better left for the men in our lives.  Stuff like car repairs, washing the car, cooking, and, most of all, mowing the lawn.

Now, I’m a pretty forward thinking female.  I believe women can do it all and conquer it all.  I know tons of women who are smart, savvy, and capable of handling whatever life throws at them.  Women rock.  I am woman.  Hear me roar.  And all that jazz.

But then that woman buys a house and while it’s a nice little end-unit townhouse, it comes with some issues.  The biggest one being grass.  There’s grass in the front yard, the side yard, and the backyard.  And it grows.  And you have to cut that grass before the HOA sends you a warning in the mail that your knee-high grass poses a danger to the aesthetic beauty of your neighborhood.  So, what do you do?  Hire someone?  Wait for your dad to visit so he can cut it?  Or do you yell:  I am woman.  Hear me roar.  Let’s mow this lawn!  

Generally, I go for the second option.  My dad is my LawnBoy.  Look, I’m not making him do anything he doesn’t want to do.  He genuinely enjoys it.  If he didn’t, he wouldn’t go two doors down and mow my neighbor’s lawn either.  But since my dad is a mailman and has to work on Saturdays (what do you really think about six day delivery?); he only comes to visit me every six weeks.  Grass can do a lot of growing in six weeks.  That means the homeowner of aforementioned townhouse (that’s me) has to get out the lawn mower and do it…herself. 

My lawn was mowed two weeks ago (thanks, Dad!) but I had to do it again.  So, bright and early this morning, I got up and mowed my lawn.  If the world’s gonna end in a few hours, I want my lawn to look good!  Oh, and also, it made me feel less guilty for not going to running club this morning (I had a steak and a margarita at dinner, there was NO way I was waking up at 6:30 to go running!)

When I moved in, my dad gave me a lawn mower.  When we reminded him that it wasn’t 1946 and I needed something with a little more juice, he gave me an electric lawn mower.  So, every once in a while, I plug the contraption in and start mowing.  I don’t have much of a process – there’s lots of going back and forth….there are no neat, straight mowing lines on my lawn!  Once I got my front lawn cut, I went down and did my neighbor’s, because she did it for me once and well, I don’t want to be known as the neighbor who doesn’t return lawn-mowing favors!

(By the way, the entire time I was mowing the lawn, I was sweaty and annoyed and considering the possibility of just hiring a guy to do it for me.)  

After my neighbor’s lawn was done, I went back to my house to mow my backyard.  That’s when I saw my backyard neighbor mowing her lawn.  She made mowing her lawn look really good…she’s an Indian lady and she was wearing a sari.  She looked very serene.  I just looked sweaty and annoyed.  I’m seeing a sari in my future. 

When I was finished, my grass was beautifully trimmed and at required HOA height.  I’m safe for the next two weeks.  (If any of us are still here in two weeks!)   

I am woman with lawn mower.  Hear us roar.