Womanly observations

Women living in Boulder have undoubtedly noticed the signs hanging on the backs of bathroom stall doors everywhere, always in prime view while peeing.

“Don’t flush your feminine products down the toilet as this causes clogging, etc., etc., blah, blah, blah.”

That’s old news.

What I find interesting–I’m debating about whether or not to start a spreadsheet in order to compile my data more formally–is the vast assortment of clip art that tends to go along with this particular admonition.

Sometimes it’s one of those female symbols … you know, the one with the circle and the arrow pointing out of it. If this is the case it will be, without fail, in some putrid shade of pink that’s supposed to be womanly, but mostly just makes me throw up a little bit in my mouth.

Other times it will be the standard “no” symbol, that vivid red circle with the line through it. You can use your own imagination regarding what additional clip art object is inserted into the center of said circle.

Last night, however, at CU’s Mackey Auditorium, I saw a decal new to my well trained eye: a hand with four fingers curled into a fist, while the index finger stood up straight. There were little squiggles off to the sides giving the obvious impression that the finger was moving back and forth in a blatant “Do not do this or I will send you to the moon” kind of indication.

They’re definitely getting points on my spreadsheet for creativity.

But what I found especially interesting was the unmistakable gender of that wagging finger: male.

“Odd,” I thought.

Mike, however, pointed out that it was likely to be a man who would be doing the unclogging.

Despite all of my feminist tendencies, I have to relent: Touché.

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Regression

What does it say about me that all I want to do today is hole up in a warm, dark room and write? Maybe I’ll eat a little …

I feel like I’m going back to the womb.

Sigh. The life of an aspiring freelancer …

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New day

It’s Monday.

Which for many means the dreaded start to another work week.

For me, Monday is the only day of the week that I have the opportunity to sleep in, an opportunity that I typically forgo in order to get in a refreshing swim with a couple of great girlfriends.

Today, however, I opted to be a bit more responsible than usual and decided to work toward the completion of the two paper deadlines looming ever nearer as April slips stealthily from my grasp.

But when the alarm sounded at 7, blaring NPR, I merely groaned and rolled over, allowing myself “just five more minutes.” Which of course turned into 10, then 15.

“Screw it.”

I gave up and reset my alarm for 7:45.

That came far too quickly, but after another 10 minutes of listening to “Colorado Matters,” I finally pried my body from my bedsheets.

Teeth brushed. Face washed. Ready to get in a quick workout before I settled in to the hum-drum of paper writing.

I glanced at my watch to see what time it was. 7:15 it read.

“What?”

I checked the clock over the stove. 7:15.

I grabbed my phone. 7:15.

Amazing! It’s like getting a second daylight savings time! One whole hour added to my day and I didn’t even realize it!

(OK, so maybe the time on the alarm simply got desynchronized because of all my fickling with it this morning, and thus the extra hour is really due only to my own blunder … but I’ll still take it.)

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Plea from a nube Twitterer

I did it.

I signed up for Twitter … again, actually. I think I have some other alias flitting around in the Twitosphere, but I couldn’t remember the password.

But back to my point: I’m on Twitter. Dun, dun, duuuuun. I feel like I need some fanfare going on in the background. Like a gong. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone follow you around with a gong, which they would bang whenever you needed to add a little emphasis to whatever you just said? I think that might come in handy …

Psssttt … whoever you app-making people are. That idea’s worth millions … I’d like a cut though.

So yes, being on Twitter. My question for all of you Twittering powerhouses (Yes, I’m talking to you, Fish, Mike, etc.) is this:

How much is too much? At what point are you just launching needless comments into Cyber Space, effectively clogging it up for the rest of the more restrained Tweeters? Are we talking one every 30 minutes? Every hour? Once a day?

Anyone have any wisdom?

 

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