My Future BF

Perhaps one of the hardest parts of getting used to singledom (once again) is sleeping alone at night.  Sure, at first it's nice to spread your wings or slowly spin clockwise over the course of eight hours or roll from side to side like a steam roller without fear of knocking someone off the bed or getting an elbow to the eye.  And, sure, it's nice not to be awakened by snoring or the sharp grinding of teeth or farting.  However, a few months down the line you begin to realize that, hey, you really only sleep on one side of the bed anyway and, hey, the teeth grinding was like white noise lulling you to sleep at night and, hey, you miss that manly arm snuggled around you as you sleep, hugging you safe and sound.  So what's a newly single girl to do?  Live with it?  Cry about it?  Pay her gay male friends to cuddle up?  Place an add in the Penny Saver?  Craigslist?  Heavens no.  None of those things.

Japan, the country that first brought the world used schoolgirl panty vending machines, now introduces THE MAN PILLOW.  Why I didn't come up with this in between my last two boyfriends god only knows.  It's sheer brilliance stuffed between a faux work shirt.  A woman named Suzuki in USA Today sums up its appeal ever so eloquently: "It doesn't squirm or thrash in the night, and you know it'll be there in the morning." If that isn't worth $80, I don't know what is.  Not to mention it comes in three colors and its manufacturer, Kameo, will soon offer both muscular pillows for women who prefer their pillow well-built and slender models for those who desire a "more sensitive, vulnerable partner."

Miss Manners

I may not be the most well mannered girl in the world (yes, my burps have been known to shake a house or two), but in public I try to be as polite and well behaved as possible.  Yet, lately I've been hit with a barrage of rude, ill mannered Americans, leaving me scratching my head as to what in the world has happened to our society.  And I'm not just talking about our behavior but our appearance, as well.  When did it become okay to wear leggings as pants, for example?  I understand the necessity for them in the winter under dresses or over-sized sweaters (although I thought we'd left that particular craze back in the 80s) but with a waist length t-shirt?  Come on!  My face literally crinkles up like I've bitten into a bitter lemon every time I see a girl trying to pull this off like it's some hot new trend.  Just because Sienna Miller did it back in the early 2000s doesn't make it okay.  Camel toes simply aren't proper, and I certainly don't want to see every lump and bump of your lower half as contoured by a thin sheath of spandex.  The airport this holiday was full of them, as were shopping malls, Starbucks and even (gulp) restaurants.  I've got my own lumps and bumps to think about without the lasting image of yours engraved in my mind for heaven's sake!  I put it right there with wearing Crocs outside the house if you're neither gardening, camping or going for a walk in the woods.  I watch old movies or look through photographs of my grandparents and long for a time when nearly all Americans actually cared about their appearance.  Didn't matter if you were poor or rich, hot or busted; you put your best self forward, and in doing so, made the world a little more beautiful.  I used to be one to go straight from the gym to run errands, sweaty shirt and all, but no longer.  So, yes, I practice what I preach.

Then there's the general rude factor, as best exemplified in two recent movie theater experiences.   The first was at the Crest Theater during a screening of "A Christmas Story," which two tween girls talked through the entire time.  "Like, what is that thing?  A leg?  Why is it glowing?  Dumb."... "Oh my god, what does that ginger head keep laughing like that?  So annoying.  Dumb.  And he's ugly."... "Are those robbers real?  Why are they moving so fast?  Stupid.  Hehehehe.  He put a cap in his a**.  Sweet."  These are direct quotes.  My mother, who has even less patience for bad manners than I do, actually moved seats, leaving me to suffer alone.  Then during "The King's Speech" at the Tower Theater there were two ladies having a heated argument through the first quarter of the movie.  On and on and on they went after numerous 'shushes' and an employee intervening twice.  The King may have been struggling to find his voice, but they sure the hell weren't.  And then amongst this vocal squabble the woman two seats in front of me got a phone call and actually had the gall to answer it and start a conversation!  Five minutes later someone finally walked over to her and told her to cut it out (only the rated R version of this line.)  Meanwhile, the argument between the two women got to the point where I couldn't even focus on dialogue, whole scenes flying by like a silent film.  Finally, the employee came back and asked them to leave.  And as they began to file down the stairs, you know what I did?  I said 'to hell with manners' and began a slow clap.  Yes, just like the dramatic slow clap found in countless movies.  My mom picked up my trail and in a matter of seconds I had gotten the entire theater to clap them off stage and out the door.  Does this make me ill mannered, myself?  No.  Sometimes, my friends, you simply have to fight fire with fire.  (But never, please never, spandex with spandex.)