soapboxdiner

The Day God Visited My Grocery Store

So I went to the store to stock up on much needed household necessities recently. I think I did it when my brain was all tired and lethargic, because I just grabbed a cart and wondered up and down isles for like an hour and a half. I didn't know what I wanted or needed, see.

So I'm wondering when SHAZAM! I see a 24 pack of TP for, like, a buck.

Dude.

This is like a gift from the Gods, people. You know why? Because I secretly have this pet peeve that says toilet paper makers and brassiere companies are in line with the government and dry cleaners to overprice/underpay all things womanly. I know, I know. TP really isn't like a fashion accessory or anything, but $8 for the Charmen that only lasts a week for those of us with dainty sized bladders seals the conspiracy theory for me. MR. HUGGLY IS BRINGING DOWN THE GIRLS, PEOPLE! Don't you let him trick you with that pillow softness on yo' tush. Fight The Man, I say; buy cheap TP. (although, I draw the line at recycled TP. Something there is just... weird. Perhaps it's my freakishly self-indulgent desire for products that touch my sissy to be, oh I don't know, Sterile And Never Before Used By Other People I Don't Know Who Then Throw It In The Trash. I'm such a hyperconsumer that way.)

This minor shopping victory had, I returned to my browsing. Whilst strolling the cleaning product isle, I noticed a sale on toilet bowl cleaner!! You know those new kinds that you attach to the rim of your bowl and with every flush releases sanitizers and a rush of tropical flower scents? SCORE! I'm testing this new product out now (not in the immediate sense of "now", mind you) and my whole house smells like a field of jasmin in the springtime!

I love my toilet cleaner.

Anyway, to digress from long winded stories about things nobody else in the world invests thought on, and seeing as I have to sooner or later get up and get ready for work, I'll give you the Cliff's Notes on my other thoughts of the moment.

My 30th birthday is in three weeks. I decided to use this opportunity to host my very first ever Gathering de SBD in my home. My recently relinguished inner hermet is trembling just a bit with worry that I will throw the suckiest party ever hosted. Of course, the still forming guest list is filled with all the beautiful people I know who would never conceive of calling my gala event a bomber, so I'm thinking I'll just tell my inner hermit to go away John Nash style.

The party should be lots of fun. Just a laid back gathering with cocktails and music. And to broach the topic of birthday gifts rather gouchly, I don't expect any BUT if anyone I know happens to find sock suspenders and by chance wraps them up and gives them to me, I will love them eternally and kiss them on the cheek.

My socks are always falling down. I have granny ankles by sock. Even 30 years old is too young for granny ankles, I say.

And lastly, I've been hemming and hawing over quitting smoking. Twice this week I've allowed myself to run out of cigarettes - on purpose just to see what would happen! I just don't feel healthy smoking. I feel yucky physically. I'll keep you posted on my struggle with the monkey on my back.

And that's all. I now must retire to the much discussed, sweet smelling garden that is my bathroom for a shower.

Here's to not balling yourself into a corner and rocking yourself back and forth saying NONONO at work today, darlings.

5:47 am - 03.26.03
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