No Woman’s Land

Many of you may remember Mike one of my earlier posts.  He is a great husband, a great dad and a great friend and very nicely agreed to do his own “If I had to pick five” for my first guest post.  You can check him out over at I Got Nuthin’.

I’m Mike from I Got Nothin’, and I’m happy to be sitting in today for my work wife. Er, former work wife. It’s not like we divorced or anything. Heck, I’m not even sure it’s a legal separation. Whatever it is, I don’t like it. Work isn’t the same since we parted ways. But thanks to the blogosphere, we can stay connected. And, today, that gives me the chance to give you a look into a place where most of you probably never see. That’s right, today you’re going to meet “Five Guys You’ll Find in the Men’s Room.”

 

There’s always a talker. Ladies, you aren’t the only ones to go to the bathroom in pairs. We do it, too. And, the most annoying thing ever is standing in front of a wall of urinals with your buddy on either side of you wanting to continue the conversation he started before you went in. I don’t want to talk while I’m doing my business, thank you. I don’t care how important it is. And, the most annoying thing about a talker? When he sees you aren’t complying with his need for conversation, he’ll start asking questions to get you to talk. Shut your trap, talker. Please.

 

Even more annoying than the talker is the looker. And, there are lookers. It’s crazy. You’re standing there, again, along the wall of urinals, and you can sense the guy on the side of you trying to take a peak at what you’ve got going for you. It’s crazy, but it seems guys (present company excluded) always have to compare, and I’m not just talking about power tools. I’ve never understood this. Because, I gotta tell you, if I ever have the desire to look at another man’s penis, it’s not going to be while he’s taking a leak. I’m sorry, but it’s not.

 

The guy who wants you to look, however, is hands-on hips man. There’s always one guy in there that, how shall we say it?, is, well, gifted. And that’s fine. Really it is. But he shouldn’t brag about it – verbally or otherwise. But, hands-on hips man is so confident in his size and ability that he literally stands in front of the urinal with his hands on his hips and his back arched a little bit to get the job done. He obviously doesn’t need any hands-on assistance, which is fine, but when the hands go on the hips in an obvious sign of superiority, you almost hope he’s got a talker next to him.

 

You always feel a little sympathy for stage fright man. He’s the poor guy who is standing there and standing there and standing there and nothing happens. All guys have suffered through this at one point in their lives. So it’s like there’s a code. You don’t say, ‘aw, don’t worry, bud, it’ll happen for you.’ No, what you do is flush for him – when you arrive and when you leave. See, the sound of running water helps stage fright man. And despite the lookers and the talkers, when you’re lined up against a wall of urinals, it’s a brotherhood.

 

One step below stage fright man is self-conscious man. This is the guy who just doesn’t feel right about the urinal. Whatever it is, he’ll wait to get into a stall, even if there are urinals open. Something scares him. Maybe it’s stage fright in an unfamiliar place. Maybe it’s being stuck next to a looker. Or maybe he’s making a conscious effort to avoid his friend the talker. Whatever it is, he’s got to go, but he’s only going in a stall.

 

So, there you have it. What else? I got nothin’.

I’m Leaving on a Jet Plane….

 Tomorrow I will be heading to Seattle for a few days vacation.  While I will be touring vineyards, checking out a rain forest and trying not to complain about what the humidity will be doing to my hair; some fabulous guest bloggers have agreed to fill in for me.  Please come back to check them out.  I promise you will not be disappointed.  And ladies… you may even learn about a place we just don’t normally think about.

A Big La Petite Thank You

Earlier this week, my bloggy friend La Petite Belle gave me two blogger awards; the Arte y Pico award and  the “You so Crazy” award.  For anyone who does not read La Petite Belle, she is fabulous.  We met through this crazy blogger world and realized we had quite a bit in common.  I adore her perspective on life, love, family and marriage and her candid honesty makes her easy to read and a pleasure to know.  I will be passing these awards on sometime soon, so stay tuned and thank you La Petite Belle, for being way more than La Petite Fabulous. 

 

          

Patience is not one of my virtues

Five things I can not do (right now) and wish I could

1) speak Spanish- after a week in Mexico with my brother who can order food and actually get food (I on the other hand, wanted lunch and ordered a table) I vowed to learn.

2) keep bee’s- this is something I swore I was going to do this spring, but was quickly halted by some slightly suspicious neighbors and irritating town ordinances. Apparently, most people don’t want swarms of bees in tourist towns.

3) go to work sans bra- its not that I am huge or anything…. but I definatly can’t get away with one of those shelf bra tank tops and I feel like Mondays would seem less overwhelming if I did not have to put a bra on.

4) use my driver when I tee off- it was confiscated by my father after I accidentally hit a maintenance worker on a pubic golf course.

5) take away a friends pain- I know this one is a little obvious but lately I have had some friends go through some very difficult times and I would do just about anything to be able to take their pain away.

…maybe some day

To be perfectly honest…

The five things that make me most nervous about having a blog

1) technology – the world wide web and I are not friends

2) general incompetence- not being able to figure out how to do things like change my user ID (this took me a solid two hours and a tutorial with Mike)

3) writing something that will embarrass me, my friends or my family

4) realizing that I am 100% correct and the general public really does not care about what I have to say

5) realizing that I am wrong, and someone, somewhere out there, does care what I have to say and I, will sound like a total moron