On Sunday, every ounce of my body fluids were strewn across North Carolina’s highway 85. With that grotesque vision in your mind, allow me to explain. We drove from Charlotte to Raleigh on 85 North, at just under 85 miles per hour. The rush and non-attention to speed was due to the fact that being in the car made me more nauseous than a seasick sailor on a surfboard. So nauseous, that every five to ten exits, I requested a pit stop just so I could walk around, breathe in the sunlight and bask in the dankly humid smell of some rest stop bathroom. Most of the time, I only felt as though I was going to throw up, without anything actually working it’s way to the surface. And then I peed every chance I could so that there would be no liquids in my body, lest an emergency arose in which liquid evacuation became immediately nessecary. Are you following me here?
The evening before, Saturday, we threw a surprise party for my father’s 50th birthday combo Father’s day. Many of his co-workers, friends, family members, and church members were there and the bash was a big success. However, the pre-bash was a big suc-stress! I worked myself into a tizzy shopping, planning, preparing food for an army, the masses, and sloughs of people while simultaneously employing the help of my boyfriend, my brother, and his girlfriend and thus feeling the need to micro manage the entire operation and bark out order. They nicknamed me the Gestapo, but at least the party went off without a hitch. Well, besides the fact that the element of surprise didn’t exist whatsoever. But, other than that, a total accomplishment!
The drive home on the other hand, was not so pleasant and fun. Partly because there weren’t people milling about chatting happily and laughing in the car with us. And partly because there wasn’t a nice fire pit, tons of delicious snacks, and awesome kids running around. Mostly, it was not as delightful because it was a summation of repercussions incurred through bad food, too much chatting, not enough sleep, one too many glasses of wine, and an entirely empty stomach leading into the whole sha-bang.
Now, if I feel like my body is thrown off, and perhaps ever so slightly hungover (not that I even know what a hangover feels like) the best way, I’ve learned to bring it back into equilibrium is to drink a lot of water and expel said water as often as possible. This re-calibrates me by restoring the alkaline-acid balance which so delicately works to keep my body optimally functioning every single day. This is what I was attempting to do every time I bleated, “Pull over whenever you can, please,” from the passenger seat that sunny Sunday.
While enduring this long, and arduous journey, I got a hands-on experience (no pun intended) with various types of toilet paper. I’m no TP snob, and I don’t wanna be an ass, by my personal preference has always been SCOTT. This goes back to the kind my mother purchased throughout my childhood and brings back memories of my youth. Or at least, the periods of my youth spent in the bathroom, which became more frequent after I stopped peeing my pants everyday, and used the grownup potty. I feel Scott has a lot to offer us, an all-American brand, economy sizes, with 1,000 sheets, a large surface area, and a seemingly everlasting (and inexpensive) roll. It’s like the Everlasting Gobstopper for your bum. Since Saturday, I have taken a poll amongst my female friends, former co-workers, and relatives, and found Scott to be the number one choice (even for number two :-)). This includes the opinion of my boss, who is widely acclaimed for her savviness and practicality.
My boyfriend on the other hand, and several other men I’ve asked (including my boss’ husband) prefers something slightly more Charmin’. Get this, you know the commercials with the giant bears taking poops and getting REALLY carried away with the toilet paper? That’s the brand I’m talking about. Charmin’ Ultra Soft claims you can use less, and that you’ll essentially never want to leave your bathroom. But what is the fun in that? No wonder men are in there so long!! They’re having an affair with the soft, overpriced toilet paper! Many Charmin’ users point their finger at other brands with scorn, and rashly (again, no pun intended) declare our brands to be “sandpaper”, “causing unnecessary harm”, and “wasteful because we have to use more”. Little do they realize, their brand offers you a mere four rolls at almost 2x the cost of six long-lasting ones! And for that price, I’ll take sandpaper any day.
Despite the disagreement on which toilet paper is more crappy, we manage to settle our differences, as I recommend most couples should, by purchasing “to each his own” or “His and Hers” separate toilet paper. When guests ask to use the restroom, I pre-screen their experience by handing them a simple questionnaire, ensuring that they will have the best time of their LIFE in there, by asking which type of toilet paper they prefer: a thick mass that hold clogging-potential with every flush, or a sure-fire, easy-come easy-go toilet paper that leaves you no fear of becoming emotionally attached to it. I then carefully mark each guest’s answer in a book and will later use it for research purposes. Oh. P.S. Does Charmin’ offer TP from recycled materials? I think not.
The next item I feel I need to bring up is which way the roll of toilet paper is DESIGNED to hang from the roll. I had a roommate in college who insisted that it must not touch the wall, lest it come in contact with any germs which might be attached to the wall. I personally thought there were enough germs probably already ON the roll itself, and if the wall was an issue it was a small one. However, when I remembered, I usually humored her since she was excellent at empathizing with my own OCD tendencies. But since we’re baring all, which do you prefer? In my opinion, it does not matter all that much. Unless you’re in a public restroom and the roll has been affixed in such a dilapidated manner than one cannot do more than pull it down, one. Single. Tiny. Square at a time. This behavior is just sheerly unacceptable and all the soft, expensive, charming toilet papers in all the land couldn’t make up for the frustration one feels in this situation. The only other time it matters is if you’ve used all the toilet paper at someone else’s house, and you now are faced with the daunting task of replacing it; my tactic here, just holler from the bathroom and ask which way they prefer it. Saves you the embarrassment down the road of being ridiculed for not knowing how to do it, and facing the risk of never being invited back again.
Or just do what I do, I leave it empty for the next sorry soul to deal with.