Archive for the ‘hilarity’ Category

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What Every Traveler Needs

March 31st, 2011 by Suzanne | 4 Comments | Filed in hilarity, I am a bad person sometimes, random

My friend forwarded me the above photo of products available in German vending machines. As usual, I am saddened by the lack of foresight that US manufacturers display.* I don’t know exactly where this German vending machine was located, but I hope it was in an airport. These are important items for travelers.

Imagine if you were on your way somewhere and after you went through airport security, you realized that you left your travel pussy at home! What would you do? If you were in Germany, you would just buy a new one from the vending machine and be set. What a relief to not have to worry!

On the other hand, the pussy you have at home might be too cumbersome to pack in a carry-on and you worry that your suitcase will get lost with its precious cargo. A travel pussy is perfect! Just like a travel size toothpaste or shampoo, you will have exactly what you need while away. Brilliant.

Granted, my pussy generally goes where I do, so it’s not too much of a problem for me, although there have been many times when I wished I could leave it behind and had no choice but to muddle through. I feel a lot of sympathy for people who are not in the same position and find themselves without a pussy while traveling. This product really fills that hole, you know? I wonder if there are vending machines that might purvey travel dicks to people who need them. If not, I see a market expansion opportunity!

If only Americans were this thoughtful, we probably would have far fewer sex scandals. Since Germans have their travel pussy needs met, as well as those for vibrating penis rings, they have time for better scandals, like whether someone plagiarized his thesis at university or declares that they are excited to use their government position to discriminate against various religious groups. Sure these scandals are certainly less exciting than whether they are caught having affairs with campaign donor’s wives or random people in men’s rooms, but what can you expect from a culture that is so open about the importance of travel pussies?

We should take note and make improvements accordingly. I’ll be calling my elected officials today and I urge you to do so as well. The sooner we act to get travel pussy vending machines set up around this great nation, the sooner, uh, we will have more fun with vending machines.

*Heck, LaGuardia Airport doesn’t even have “feminine product” vending machines.

Shade of Winter

March 27th, 2011 by Suzanne | 3 Comments | Filed in fashion Suzanne-style, fun trips, hilarity, random

When I left New York last Friday for my trip to London, it was an unseasonably delightful 70 degrees. While I whiled away my time running under the sun in Hyde Park and eating spotted dick, winter returned to the city. I am not pleased.

However, while I was in London, I also encountered the winter in me. This was not the first time. When I was in fourth grade, I enrolled in a modeling class at my local community center. (Seriously.) Why, as a pudgy girl experiencing the pangs of puberty and resplendent with a face of acne, I thought this was going to be fun is beyond me. It only served to make me feel even shittier about myself. The upside was that at a young age, I learned that my personal color palette was from the “winter” spectrum: jewel colors, bold pinks, black, white, and gray work well with my skin tone. The instructor, a former beauty queen, informed me that I should never, ever wear orange, which was fine by me. Unfortunately, I also needed to stay away from pastels, a pre-adolescent girl’s bestest friend.

Anyway, my friend Mara had had her colors done by a professional color consultant a few years ago and it completely changed how she dressed and looked. We thought it would be fun if I did the same, so she made me an appointment. My status as a winter was confirmed (whew!) and the consultant went a step further to help me with make-up:
It’s all very glamorous, yes? I even tried out different expressions for the photos, trying to channel Tyra’s advice to contestants on America’s Next Top Model to “smeyes” (i.e. – smile with your eyes). Well, Husband said that I look like I am not only wearing lipstick, but “sitting on a rectal probe” in the fuchsia photo. Right.

A Medical History Museum and Spotted Dick

March 23rd, 2011 by Suzanne | No Comments | Filed in fun trips, hilarity, I am a bad person sometimes, oh happy day, yummy eats

The weather in London has been amazing. It has not rained the entire time I have been here and the sun has been out at least for an hour a day. The temperature is in the mid- to upper 50s. Delightful!

Yesterday I took another walking tour. One of the stops was at the Hunterian Museum. The Hunterian Museum is a medical history museum with tons of deformed specimens in jars of formaldehyde, skeletons, and surgical equipment. It is part of the Royal College of Surgeons. I tried to visit this museum in 2001, the very first time I was in London, but was told that it was not open to the public; to visit, a surgeon had to vouch for you. At the time, I knew no surgeons. I am so pleased that this policy has changed. My absolute favorite type of museum is a medical history museum. In fact, I would love to write a guide book to medical history museums around the world. This seems expensive to research, but I have visited a fair number already.

After my walking tour, I met my friend Mara for lunch. We stopped into Ye Olde Chesire Cheese pub, which was rebuilt in 1667, and super cool, with lots of wood paneling, fireplaces, short doorways, and cave-like rooms. I didn’t want to eat a heavy lunch, so we headed over to Gordon’s Wine Bar, which is another old restaurant with cave-like rooms. Then we went to Mara’s flat and took an afternoon run along the Thames and by Chiswick House. I really, really love running in London. The parks and scenery are gorgeous.

Eventually we headed back into the denser part of the city for dinner. This was taken at the Golden Hinde, a fish and chips place since 1914. I feasted on fried haddock, feta fritters, peas, and Greek salad. I’ve never been one for fried potato products, whether American or British style chips, so I skipped out on that. (I know – who eats fish and chips without the chips?) For dessert, I had that excellent British classic of spotted dick. This is some sort of raisin bread pudding in a bowl of hot custard. Not only is it delicious, but I can make many awful jokes about eating spotted dick and custard. Sort of the perfect end to a perfect day.

Today I am going to run in Hyde Park, eat some sort of fancy yogurt at lunch, and then go on a “Fair Maids, Feminists, and Philanthropists” walking tour. In the evening, though, I need to get back to working on my novel, so I’ll grab something from Marks & Spence Food on the Move and have a working dinner. I’m actually looking forward to that, too.

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St. Patrick’s Day and the Anti-Choice Snakes

March 17th, 2011 by Suzanne | No Comments | Filed in hilarity, I am a bad person sometimes, I love New York, other rants

When St. Patrick drove the snakes from Ireland, they came to the US (or some stayed in Ireland) as anti-choice legislators. Celebrate St. Patrick’s Day by sponsoring me as I raise money to help women access abortion services denied to them by the anti-choice snakes. Even as little as $10 – the cost of a few beers – helps. If you live in NYC or will be here on April 17, you can also join the team. The money we raise will support the New York Abortion Access Fund, which offered $50,000 last year to women who needed abortions but could not afford them. (This is up from $7,000 in 2007, thanks to the failing economy, the horrendous reproductive anti-health policies of the snakes, and other factors.)

Bowling and other fundraising events are taking place across the country in April, so non-New Yorkers can support their local abortion funds, too.

When I visited my cousin in Dublin last September, I did not have a chance to see St. Patrick’s well. (It is adjacent to the Anglican St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Incidentally, Anglicans do not have an official position on abortion). If I had, I would have taken a moment to hope that St. Patrick could perform his miracle again and drive the anti-choice snakes out of women’s lives.

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Sales

February 18th, 2011 by Suzanne | 2 Comments | Filed in Asshole idiots, Damn, evil, fashion Suzanne-style, hilarity, I love New York, mortification

All week long, I looked forward to running in the park today. My plan was to push myself a bit and do a 10K. I did two short runs at my parents’ house on their treadmill earlier in the week and a strength training session on Wednesday morning. My muscles were ready. I was psyched.

Then my throat started hurting around 4 pm on Wednesday. I wondered if it was because I was watching “Jersey Shore” and making me sick, but then I remembered that my mom had a sore throat on Tuesday and my sister had a cold over the weekend. I was sick. I hoped if I kept it quiet on Thursday (which was another day that would have been perfect to run) I’d feel better by today. Not so.

I woke up miserable. I moped around the apartment cursing the gods for inflicting me. I knew that I would wind up eating approximately 14 pounds of pretzel M&Ms if I stayed in all day. My mobile phone alerted me to a text message. My friend wanted to know if I would face off against the bridezillas at the annual Filene’s Basement bridal dress sale with her. I accepted. There’s nothing like a sale on items I absolutely do not need to cheer me up.

We met at 11:30, as she heard that the mob dies down by 10. It was still crowded and dresses were flung about everywhere. These shoppers made wild packs of dogs look calm. I don’t think more than two women in the store said excuse me as they shoved past me in the aisles. Women came in teams, with brides wearing t-shirts that read “BRIDE” in puffy paint and her friends in coordinating colors or hats or scarves. Women also ran around in their various special gown undergarments, as fitting rooms were not available. Brutal! My friend did not find anything, unfortunately.

On my way home from the Running of the Brides (I think that is the official name of the event, as Filene’s was selling t-shirts that said “I survived the Running of the Brides at Filene’s Basement”), I noticed a sale rack outside the Super Runners Shop. I managed to get a pair of Brooks worth $130 for $39.99, so that made me partly happy. It also frustrated me because I wanted to use them right away. Ce la vie.

My last sale score was a pair of running pants with zippered pockets. They were 20% off. I would have bought them full price, though, because I have noticed that women’s running pants no longer come with pockets. This makes it difficult for me to carry my inhaler, which is pretty essential to my ability to stay alive if something goes wrong.

Then I came home and found out that the House of “Representatives” passed a bill defunding Planned Parenthood’s cervical screening, STI treatment, and pre-natal care programs, along with the community development fund and public housing capital fund. To celebrate our descent into a third world country, I ate approximately 14 pounds of pretzel M&Ms.

Fat Lot of Good This Is

February 16th, 2011 by Suzanne | 3 Comments | Filed in Asshole idiots, Damn, hilarity, other rants

I photographed this informative sign in the women’s bathroom in the baggage claim area in LaGuardia Airport. It was posted over the hand drier. (In case it is not clear, it alerts people that feminine products may be purchased at Hudson Newsstands located in the main terminal and other parts of the airport.)

Now, if I am in need of said feminine product, and I had already gone to the bathroom and washed my hands, is this not a little late to inform me that I will have to troop around the airport to purchase something to staunch my bleeding? What is even better is that most of the Hudson Newsstands are post-security, and if you are looking at this sign, you are pre-security. (There is one in the food court, which was closed when my late flight arrived, as, actually, were the Hudson Newsstands by the gate.) In fact, you likely are not going back through security because you just got off a plane or are waiting to meet someone who just got off a plane and therefore you do not have a ticket that would allow you to pass security to go buy your damn feminine product.

So, in fact, what this sign should say is, “There is pretty much nowhere you can buy a feminine product, so please go back into the stall and stuff your underwear with toilet paper if you don’t want to stain them because that is the best you can do since we are asshole idiots.” How much do I love the Port Authority of NY & NJ (which run the NYC airports) for their great services? Perhaps this would be a good time to reflect on the lovely bathrooms at O’Hare, which not only have feminine product dispensers, but those cool plastic toilet seat covers attached to a machine that changes the covers if you wave your hand over the sensor so you can sit your ass down on a fresh, clean seat. Chicago, 1; New York, 0.

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Lyndon B. Johnson and My Dad

February 15th, 2011 by Suzanne | 4 Comments | Filed in family, fun trips, hilarity, I am a bad person sometimes

President Lyndon B. Johnson was such an asshole that he held meetings in his bathroom. While he was on the toilet. Aides had to stand around and speak to him with he took a shit. I suppose he thought he was royalty.

I’ve always been fascinated by this fact, partly because I am known to talk on the phone while perched on the porcelain throne. I won’t do it if things will be, uh, too noisy, but a little tinkle or squeeze never hurt anyone. The giveaway is when I flush, so I try to hold off on that until the discussion is over. I’m no LBJ.

I realized this afternoon that my dad is no LBJ, either. We both sat with our laptops at the dining room table this afternoon, working away. Then he received a business call on his mobile phone, stood up from the table, and walked upstairs. At first I thought he took the call into another room so as not to bother me, which was very nice.

However, as he chatted (I could still hear him), I noticed that the bathroom door was closed. He spoke for a while, then it was quiet. More quiet ensued. Then, a flush, the sound of the sink, and the door swung open. My dad sauntered out, cell phone in hand.

I’m a chip off the old block. (And another sign that he is no LBJ: I was not named Bird or given my father’s initials.) My mom and sister,* by the way, are known to indulge in the practice bathroom talk as well.

*Happy 31st birthday, Dana!!! I love talking to you while you drive and/or are on the toilet.

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Rush Hour

February 14th, 2011 by Suzanne | No Comments | Filed in Damn, family, fun trips, hilarity, I love New York, What is wrong with people?

I went with my sister and father to Costco on Sunday morning.  Dana wanted to fill her car with gas before driving back to Iowa, and my mom suggested that she stock up on diapers as long as we were there.  We finished getting gas at 9:53 am, but the store did not open until 10:00.

We pulled into the lot, expecting to be the first people there.  To our surprise the lot was a quarter full.  At least two dozen people lined up at the door.  “Damn,” I said.  “You’d think there was some sort of doorbusters sale going on.”  We stayed in the car and watched people streaming from the lot in all directions.

The doors opened and the growing crowd surged forward.  My dad sprang out of the car.  “Hurry,” he said.  “It’s open!”  I guess this is rush hour in north suburban Chicago. 

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Sightings

February 10th, 2011 by Suzanne | No Comments | Filed in hilarity, I love New York, mortification, random, What is wrong with people?

Last night I went to a lit event downtown. My friend participated in the panel of experts, and at the end, we met up. As we put on our hats and gloves, a wan woman approached me.

“Can I ask you a strange question?” she queried. I nodded. “Are you Suzanne Reisman?”

I had no idea who this person was. “Yeah,” I said. She was a little disheveled looking. I hoped she was not some sort of deranged anti-choice activist who read one of the posts I’ve written at BlogHer in the past few weeks about the assault on abortion access.

“I’m Fakeyname McFakerson,” she said.

“Oh, yeah,” I said and smiled.

“I was friends with Dana in school,” she continued.

Oh. I had confused her with another person with the same first name. This was even crazier. My sister is four years younger than me and had not been friends with Fakeyname in about 20 years. How the fuck did she recognize me? I told her that I thought it was remarkable that she recognized me, then felt good about myself. I still look the same after 20 or so years. Go me. I tried to engage her in conversation, asking her what she did and letting her know where my sister lived, but she had zero interest in anything I said and walked away. Strange.

After my encounter, my friend and I went to grab some grub. As we waited to cross the street, I looked at the women standing next to me on the corner. She was African American, lean and tall, had curly grayish hair in a pony tail, and funky glasses. She was Carla from “Top Chef.” I love Carla from “Top Chef.”

“Hey, you’re Carla, right?” I asked her.

“Yes,” she said.

“I think you are great.” Then I said something about how the show would be on 45 minutes and I want to root for her to win but I can’t because everyone I root for gets voted out.

“Definitely don’t root for me then!” she said and smiled. I wished her luck, and then hoped like hell that I did not completely stick my foot in my mouth. She clearly was not watching that night’s episode – what if she had been voted out and couldn’t bear to watch? I didn’t get home in time to watch the show or the recording, so I am curious to find out when I view it tonight if I created a situation as awkward as the one I found myself in with Fakeyname McFakerson.

This is one of the many things I love about living in New York. I never know who I will see as I go about my business.

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The Condom Quest

February 9th, 2011 by Suzanne | 11 Comments | Filed in fuck, hilarity, other rants, random

Dear family members: Some of you may not want to read this post, although really that would be silly because I am 35 years old and married, so you likely know that I have sex. But I’m just saying…

Because I have polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS), I have all sorts of reproductive snafus. One of them is that I don’t get my period. Not having a period at least four times a year increases my chances of developing various uterine-related cancers, so I have been taking medication since I was 18 years old to bring on the blood every month or so. When I started dating Husband almost 16 years ago (Feb. 23!), it made sense to just get on the Pill.

Of course, being on the Pill for decades has side effects, too. While for a long time, it gave me a reliable period, in the past year or so, my uterine lining has gotten so light due to the Pill that I don’t even wear a pad or tampon. Then it stopped. After freaking out multiple times that I might be pregnant (unlikely, given the PCOS and the Pill), I saw my doctor. He said that I should skip the Pill for a month to give my body a little rest and relaxation.

That meant I needed another form of birth control, just in case. Although I hated the horrendous ad campaign that came with Elexa, the low latex odor, high lube condom introduced by Trojan a few years ago, I used them the last time I had to be off the Pill (medical testing) and LOVED them. However, since they had a shitty and stupid ad campaign (why doesn’t anyone ever ask me?), Elexa bombed and is no longer available.

I bought good old regular Trojan-ENZ, hoping that the goodness of Elexa magically transferred over to the blue box. It didn’t. These puppies are drier than the Mojave Desert in July and smell like a latex factory. I’m not too keen on smelling like I was just fucked by a rubber band. The quest for a good condom was on.

After some internet research, I identified four potential dick socks: Crown Skinless Skins (seriously, that name creeps me out – and it does not help that it is a weird fleshy pink, making me think about my crazy virgin college roommate who insisted that she would never use condoms because only raw dick was what felt good – but it was highly rated for low odor, slipperiness, and design); Kimono MicroThins (not smelly, very thin), and two kinds of Trojans, Ultra Thin and Thinsation (both low on the latex emissions). It seems, though, that consumers have some issues with the Trojans breaking. I need that concern like I need another hole, so I focused my shopping on the first two brands.

I stopped at a Duane Reade pharmacy on my way to my writing group. The Kimono MicroThins were available at a price: $18 for 12! I hesitated. Not that I felt the Crown ones would be cheaper, but because if I am going to pay for sex, I want the best. I decided to try my luck elsewhere. On the way home from writing group, I stopped in the neighborhood sex shop on Amsterdam Ave. and 73rd. The clerk eyed me suspiciously as he continued chatting in another language on his mobile’s speaker phone with a woman. (I wondered if it was his mother.) They had plenty of paddles, lubes, dildos, videos, and costumes, but their selection of condoms was worse than Duane Reade. I stormed out in disgust.

This afternoon I will try the infamous Babes in Toyland Toys in Babeland sex shop. (They are the people who gave out free vibrators on election day in 2008 if you came in and said you voted. Love it!) If I can’t get what I need there, then I ain’t gonna get it anywhere.

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