On Conquering the New Year

The turn of the new year marks a time for reflection and resolutions. Obviously, I plan to have taken over the world by the age of thirty but recognize this does not happen without intermediate improvements. Before carefully considering the necessary steps this year, let us honor a few highlights from 2013:

1) Feats of food: Chugged a mug of cheese, caught a cupcake in my mouth.
2) Beat the company co-founder in tennis.
3) Went the entire year without being pulled over for speeding. I got pulled over for swerving, lack of license plates and incorrect registration stickers*. But not speeding.
4) Discovered a new perfume, arguably more attractive than my ten year staple scent.
5) Did not take one picture with my hand on my hip, the most common of female poses.

It is clear 2013 was a success, but I think it important to look expectantly toward the future rather than rest on my laurels. As I set goals for myself, I keep in mind the rule of SMART: Such Magnificence Always Requires Tweaking. Below are the few I deemed most pertinent:

1) Make she a prude. Restore her dignity. This is an initiative originating in 2013 to be pursued with increased vigor this year. The proverbial she, in "That's what she said" is constantly degrading herself, further encouraging the objectification of women. I plan to change this perception by having her reference restraint. "Do not go there." "Closed for the evening." "Stop." Etc.

2) Invent. I am currently inclined to create an electric shock device I can place on the small of my back to fend off overzealous pursuers. There are two people allowed to touch that region. Me, when I have an itch or want to draw attention to my chest in an awkward manner, and my imaginary masseuse. Not you, idiot at the bar who thinks our mutual interest in IPAs is a green light for this presumptuous and possessive gesture. ZAP.

3) Make one full Epicurious meal. I will dice, mince, julienne, grate. I will whisk the butter, zest the orange. I will even traverse Thailand to acquire the random spice that I cannot pronounce, tastes similar to cayenne pepper, but apparently takes the meal to an entirely different level.

4) Separate the chaff. Literally. I will venture to a field, gather grains and remove the glumes. Perhaps this will be on the same journey to find the aforementioned spice.

5) Rock a toothpick. It is in my blood; my dad constantly carried toothpicks until they were replaced by his pocket dental utensil, but I want to keep this old school. I picked up mint flavored toothpicks the other day and decided they are going to be my new prop. Providential timing, as my look was flirting with stagnation. I have not yet decided whether to introduce the toothpick to all aspects of my life or merely relevant social situations. Wherever I decide, the benefits are undeniable: it exudes provocative mystery, acts as a conversation piece, entertains me when I find my company bland; plus, it can be used as a weapon should someone pester me. Poke, poke.

6) Go to the dentist as I have not been in four years. Gasp. Relax. I can predict what they are going to say: "Your bottom teeth, the ones that no one sees, are a bit out of alignment, you have potential for a cavity to develop ten years from now, and if your mouth shrinks, you will not have room for your wisdom teeth. We recommend you take action immediately. Also, you should floss more." Never mind, I am taking this one off this list.

7) Perfect the ampersand. Though my chicken scratch penmanship mirrors that of an eight year old boy, I pride myself on exquisite symbols. I have beautiful tildes, appropriately spaced ellipsis and seductive curly brackets, but my ampersand leaves much to be desired.

8) Stop being awkward around Spanish speaking workers. I am a friendly person and generally engage all building employees in passing conversation. When interacting with Hispanic workers, however, my thought process goes something like this: "English or Spanish? I want to be considerate. Look to the floor while you decide. I do not want to assume they know English and have them flounder in conversation, but my Spanish is sub-par. If I start an actual conversation with them in Spanish, I will surely flounder. Ahhh we made eye contact." Then: "Hola. Como esta? Me llamo Anna. Me gusta queso. Adios!" Sheepishly be on my way...

In all seriousness, I do have goals for 2014 relating to my career, relationships, and physical prowess. I believe there is incredible merit in deliberately deciding directional focus*. If I reveal my focus in these areas, however, another may steal my insights and take over the world before me. I am certainly not about to give all that up on the Internet. That's what she said.

* Apparently, there is no month 15.
* As well as cool alliteration.

6 Thoughts Regarding the Latrine

Lists seem to be the latest attention grabber. Thank you, Buzzfeed.

The list speaks to those driven by checking item after item, eliciting a feeling of success. Getting through point two is far more satisfying than paragraph two. Plus, there is a definite end which encourages the reader to press onward. I wonder if there are studies regarding the effectiveness of the number vs word in the title or which number draws the largest crowd. Maybe people are attracted to sleek numbers like 11 or 14, or maybe ones with healthy curves are more inviting - 23, 36 and the like. Research pending.

The whole idea of the list seems a bit too structured for me, but perhaps it will increase my already booming readership.

I have a lot of thoughts regarding public bathrooms, likely because much of my solid thinking occurs in the stall. It is a space of sweet solace from the hustle and bustle of online marketing, and due to the approximate six liters I drink per work day, I frequent it more than most. I think it a shame to keep profound nuggets confined to the latrine, and so I will share.

1) There are two types of people in the world. Those who avoid a dirty stall in disgust and those who remedy the problem. No one enjoys turning into a stall with a soiled toilet, whatever its contents, but rather than simply walking away, some choose to flush the toilet, sparing others from the site. If you do not make the two second sacrifice, the duty falls to another. With the exception of a legitimately clogged toilet, I encourage all to take this small step toward benefiting society.

2) There are three types of people in the world. Those who immediately ask for assistance in finding the bathroom, those who survey the landscape and seek guidance only if necessary and those who stubbornly wander aimlessly into the kitchen because they are too proud to ask directions. As a waitress at a restaurant with only one logical path to the restroom, I tired from those tapping my arm as I balance five martinis, inquiring of the bathroom's location in a panicked tone. I am not asking you to walk through a veritable maze to reach the restroom, but when the bar is in front of you, and the outdoors is to your right and behind you, common sense leads you on a leisurely, logistically certain stroll to your left. Godspeed, friend.

3) Once I find my way to public restrooms, I do not want to figure out which door I am to enter. Restaurants, hotels, bars: use your creativity to improve the overall ambiance, not to leave me guessing whether I am a horse or steer, chicken or rooster, queso or quesa. It can leave one quite confused.

4) I contend the bathroom is the cleanest space in the workplace. My office mates have the habit of walking around bare foot, but when venturing to the bathroom, most everyone wears shoes. I understand the negative stigma society places on the bathroom, and call me a hippie, but I have no problem going to the bathroom sans shoes if I am meandering about the office in that manner. After all, the bathroom is thoroughly Lysoled and disinfected every evening, whereas the carpet is vacuumed once a week. Even then, the fibers could be harboring countless germs. The potential of stepping in something unsavory is a defense for shoes, but since we are not at a dingy bar on a Friday night, the chances of this are slim to none. There are also those that say walking bare foot is disgusting at all times, and to that I offer a nod of acknowledgment.

5) I do not think automatic sinks are that neat. You cannot control the water temperature. I have been told all my life I am supposed to sing 'Happy Birthday' as I thoroughly scrub my hands under warm water, but since I have no control over temperature, the water is cold by the end of the first line. And the germs live on. I leave the bathroom with dirtier hands than bare feet.

6) Were I to be given the responsibility of office renovation, my highest priority would be the bathroom because of its level of intimacy. I have an ultimate vision of marble floors, granite counter tops, floor length skinny mirrors and a small waterfall. At the very least, I recommend stall doors extending to the floor, soothing music transporting one to the Enchanted Forest and a painted wall. I vacillate as to the color, but it definitely needs to exude serenity, so perhaps a taupe or mauve. The bathroom must be a place of refuge, not one of self conscience inhibitions.

Next time, please join me for 14 reasons why I am a better driver than 85% of Charlottesville.