Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Here's a problem with me. (One of many.)

I can't write about big things that happen. I can write only about small things. And when I write about these small things, I write so darn much that the total time it takes to read my story is longer than the time it took for the story to unfold in real life.

Most of the time, it's okay that I am like this.

But it's a horrible curse whenever I do something really great. If I have a lot of fun or a really busy day or do something so momentous that my whole life is forever changed. Because then, I clam up. And I can't think of a way to properly convey my emotions or my reactions. Indeed, I think I am incapable of writing about any states of mind other than "miffed" or "sorta baffled."

And I can't pick out the highlights of my day and put them all into one really great post. For example, about a month ago I went on a wine tasting trip with a bunch of friends for Miriam's bachelorette party. (My second wine tasting so far this year...ay yiyi.) And while the day was full of fabulous moments (scenic views, gossipy girl talk, Victoria's Secret bags full of vomit being thrown out of limo's sun roof), I couldn't find a way to frame the whole thing. Or, as we in the news business say, I couldn't find an angle.

I'm not really in the news business. I just made that up to say angle.

So I never wrote about that day.

The reason I'm talking about this is not just to take up space. (Okay, it's part of the reason.) It's to explain why, now that I'm back from visiting my parents for a few days and going to Miriam's wedding, I can't particularly think of what to tell you all about it.

And so for now, I'm going to tell you about what happened in the bathroom of Hancock Airport after I'd just arrived in Syracuse.

Btw, isn't it so great to pee after holding it for a whole plane ride?

So I'm in the stall, buttoning my pants back up (aw yeah, it's sexy time), and I'm waiting impatiently for the wooshing sound of the automatic toilet to flush behind me.

Finally, I turn around to see a handle on the back of the toilet. "Oh right," I thought. "Those things." So I lean back and press down the handle with my foot.

Then I step out of the stall and walk up to the sink. I put some soap on my hands and then shove them under the faucet. I wait. I wave my hands back and forth under the faucet a few times.

And then I spot the handles on either side of the faucet. One labeled with an "H" and once with a "C."

"Oh right," I thought. "Those things."

It's not that I think of myself as too good to flush my own toilet or wash my own hands, it's just that I've gotten so used to all of these overzealous little automatic devices in public bathrooms. Soap dispensers, paper towel dispensers. They are everywhere, particularly in airports, where I'm surprised you have to even wipe your own ass any more.

I sound like a grumpy old person. But I'm sick of being made to look like a fool because I'm waving my hands wildly in the air, desperately trying to get the attention of the paper towel dispenser, and then grunting in anger when it only gives me a 2 inch portion to work with.

Anyway, so I stood at the sink and said "huh." Not huh with a question mark. Huh with a period. It's an important distinction. And I said huh. a lot over the course of my time back in central New York.

But most of the time, I had fun.

Tomorrow: the story of how I got stuck with gray fish pasta.

10 comments:

JenBun said...

Peeing after you've held it for an entire plane ride IS the best!

Holding it for an entire plane ride, then circling the runway for an hour, then sitting on the tarmac for ANOTHER hour? Not so much fun.

Being told by a flight attendant that you MUST stay in your seat until the plane reaches the gate, waiting a few more minutes without the plane even hinting that it would ever move again, then jumping out of your seat, running past her and yelling "It's an emergency! I'll pee on you!" and then-- as soon as you sit down-- hearing the captain announce "We've been cleared to pull in at the gate; once all the passengers have taken their seat, we can move again"? Um, kinda fun again!

Not that that's ever happened to me. When Tia and I were flying back from San Francisco.

It was the best pee EVER!

Rahul said...

Coming from someone that's been escorted out of Hancock Airport, the faucets are the last thing wrong with that place.

Worst food court ever.

Joe White said...

You're such a grumpy old person.

Gray fish pasta? Sounds foul.

Anonymous said...

I wish everything was automatic. It's just better that way. But then, lots of people have called me "old" and "grumpy" so maybe that's not helping you much.

m said...

OH I just adore you, do you know that?

And I DESPISE these automated flushers and dispensers! There is something about the toilets and/or about me that makes them flush on me mid-pee! I don't get it! What am I doing wrong? It is such a waste of water - that's what I always think. I shake my head and think "there are thirsty children in Africa who could drink this water!" (well, maybe not THAT specific water, because it's got pee in it, but you know what I mean...I think)

m said...

RS27 - I want to hear more about this "being escorted out of Hancock airport" business, please.

Hollywood Sucker said...

jenbun- Sounds like you may have had it worse than me.

rs27- Yes! The food court is awful. Fortunately I've never had to eat there.

fort knocks- I know. I AM old and grumpy. What am I to do?

surviving- Well I wish there was something that automatically made coffee for me. That would be neat. Like a "coffee maker." Or something that washed dishes. A "dishwasher" perhaps. Can you imagine?

mindy- I adore you too. And I also think about the wasted water. And lastly, I agree that I'd like to hear about being escorted out of the airport, RS27.

Felicia said...

I know how you feel. I wrote a post a few weeks ago about my vending machine at work. I don't even know why people read my blog at all.

Anonymous said...

Wow! I can totally relate to you. I love making a big deal about small things. I just traveled back to California too, so I feel you. And it is weird, airports these days usually DO have auto everything.

JulieGong said...

were you playing a joke on us with the "tomorrow: the story of how i got stuck with gray fish pasta" like how bars sometimes say "FREE BEER TOMORROW" ? Both are cruel jokes!