Bathroom Etiquette

I have been thinking about this for quite some time. I think it’s because I drink an obscene amount of water every day and have the bladder, which I assume is, the size of a grain of rice and I spend a lot of time peeing. Classy, eh? Anyway, there are a couple of things that I would like to discuss on how you should act and appropriate behavior when you are in the bathroom.

Flush the Toilet: You’d think this was a no brainer. Who doesn’t flush the toilet? We aren’t toddlers anymore and we should know better, right? Wrong. You would be surprised how many times I belly up to a urinal and the person before me hasn’t flushed. What is wrong with you? Do you know how gross stale urine smells? If you don’t, let me tell you. It smells bad. People will tell me they don’t flush the toilet because the handle has so many germs on it. Hi, you know how you solve that problem. You wash your hands, with soap, after you pee. Magically, the germs go away. So please, do not leave your yellow treat for the person who comes in after you. It’s uncouth.

Don’t Talk to Me: I really cannot stand when people talk to me in the bathroom. No quality conversation can happen when you are in the bathroom. It’s just not the place for it. You are partially exposed and you are releasing impurities from your body and some homeboy wants to chat with you?  “Hey man, what’s going on?” is a typical question you get when standing at a urinal. “Uhh, peeing” is my typical response. I know some people talk and try to avoid the awkwardness, but trust me, it just makes it more awkward so please don’t converse with me.

Don’t Spit Your Gum in the Toilet: You would be appalled, ladies, to see how many guys spit their gum in the urinal. What kind of jackass are you? You do realize, that your gum doesn’t flush down the urinal and some poor janitor as to physically put his hand in your stale pee (I am assuming you are the same jerk who isn’t flushing the toilet) to clean it out. I mean, is it that hard to spit your gum into the trash can 2 feet away? The one thing I can hope is that maybe all of these are accidents. I cannot tell you one man I have not seen out of the corner of my eye who doesn’t spit into the urinal before they pee. I think it’s part of our DNA.

There are so many other tragedies that occur in the bathroom and I really don’t want to go into all of them, but these 3 really irk me. Please prove that you are an adult and at least follow rules 1 and 3. Otherwise you are just a gross weirdo.

An Open Letter from my 21 year old self

Dear 29 year old Craig:  Dude, you’re 29.  I know you have an amazing job in NYC and are living in one of the greatest cities on the planet, but you need to start acting your age.  You are no longer me. You don’t have classes 3 days a week - starting no earlier than 3pm.  You have a job, where people, most likely respect you. You cannot go out until 5am and expect to feel good the next morning.  It just doesn’t happen.  

Also, while I am sure your hair still looks unbelievably good, you can’t just eat anything you want and expect to be 125 lbs.  Sure, I look like a diseased bird at this weight, but that X-Small stretch t-shirt that is normally fit for a child’s doll, looks awesome on me. Also, you need to start working out buddy.  At some point you are going to have something called Facebook that is going to be suggesting friends to you, and when you click on those “suggested friends”, they are going to be the hottest gay guys you have ever seen who have incredible bodies and will make you feel terrible.  So put down the beer and cheeseburger and get to the gym 4 hours a day like every other gay dude.

And while we are on the subject, can you please stop being obsessed with sports? Here is a little secret: most gays don’t understand sports and will look at you with puzzling glances when you say you are obsessed with football. Sure, they may laugh when you say the word ball (haha, ball), but that doesn’t mean they will understand or like the fact that you aren’t just watching the game to see men in tight clothes.  Oh yea, and those preppy outfits you are obsessed with, scratch those as well.  Gays don’t understand those and will expect you to only wear tank tops.  Buy one in every color. Oh, but don’t wear them unless you see my previous note about going to the gym. Tank tops are unforgiving.

Also, you should probably verse yourself on musicians that no other subset of American society has heard of, like Robyn or Kylie Minogue. They will oddly become staples of gay society and simply liking Christina Aguilera (a goddess of course) will not be enough to pass gay music tests. You will go out to bars and one of their songs will come on, and while everyone else is dancing in their tank tops, you will be standing alone, in your Brooks Brothers polo and seersucker shorts wondering why they aren't playing Rihanna. And oh yea, you will be watching every other person, who, in your opinion is seemingly less attractive but happens to be wearing a tank top, making out.

In conclusion, while I am happy you are making great money working for an awesome company and living in NYC, you need to get your shit together if you want to get laid and or married. 

Love, 21 year old you.

PS – There is this AMAZING thing called Botox that is readily available at this point in your life. Please take advantage of that. While most of your face still looks like a 25 year old, that giant wrinkle on your forehead says otherwise.

Facebook Post Hell

There have been countless articles about Facebook posts that are annoying and over the top.  In fact, I may have posted about this once before, but I feel like no one is learning and I again need to go over a few that really do annoy me.  As I previously thought or mentioned, I really only care about hilarious things that have happened to you, other people’s misfortunes, or pictures you are posting of me.  Mildly acceptable are vacation photos of yourself that you are posting, because as I sit in my tiny cubicle at work, seeing you traipsing through Asia on an Elephant while your monkey tour guide feeds you bananas really does pass the time and helps me imagine myself doing the same one day.  Also, I travel a lot, and I post pictures of myself that I am hoping make everyone jealous.

Among the many atrocities that occur on Facebook every second, there are a few that really irk me.  Here goes:

Taking Pictures of Food:  Listen, I love tacos. I really do. Mmm tacos! But just because you made tacos doesn't mean you have to take a picture and Facebook about it. Unless you are planning on sending me said tacos, I really don't care. And for that matter, it's not that hard to make tacos. I believe Helen Keller even made tacos once. Don’t quote me on that, but I’m going to say she did. And now I am hungry. Thanks a lot.

Over sharing about your child: In my early 20’s, I have to admit, I hated kids. What a nuisance!  Then, my sisters began procreating, and I started liking kids … but only the ones who were related to me.  Recently, as I near 30 and all my friends are getting married, I realize that kids are soon to be an inevitable part of all my friends’ lives.  But I really do not need to know that your baby has had horrible diarrhea lately, or that they have stopped breast feeding from you and that makes you sad. (Yes, those are legit status messages I have seen on my news feed.)  And guess what, most people don’t want to know that either.  And to those of you who DO care, I believe I stopped breast feeding in April of 1983.  Please contact Judy Miller to confirm.  I know your life is complete now. Congrats.  (Acceptable forms of kid sharing – hilarious adorable pictures of them dressed up in ridiculous costumes or if they have some insane Mozart like talent and begin composing and playing music at age 3.)

I have exciting news … But you are going to have to wait:  Have you seen these people?  They write things that allude to some sort of great thing that happened in their lives, or they are super excited about something coming up, but won’t tell you what it is.  These people are fishing for comments.  Look, I knew you in 7^th grade and you somehow became one of my friends on Facebook.  I probably haven’t spoken to you in 15 years and I will probably never speak to you in person ever again. While I do love stalking people and knowing what they are up to, playing these games where you try to entice me to guess what event you are secretly keeping from your entire Facebook list is just dumb.  Just tell me. I probably don’t care that you got a new mattress or that the fertilizer you started using to help make your begonias grow is working so well you have begonias for all your neighbors.  But I care even less when you drag it out like a bad mini-series.

I am sure there are more and I am sure a lot of people get annoyed with my constant Facebook posts about how awesome and cute I am, or how I was bitch slapped in my own hotel room while on a business trip in Chattanooga in 2006, but at least they make people laugh.  And hopefully, they make you want my life (or be happy that you DON’T have my life – which I presume is the more likely version). Discuss.

Ahh, dating ...

I haven't blogged in a while.  I am not totally sure why but there are reasons.  I mean, I am quite busy.  My fragrance line is launching soon.  My book deal is happening.  And I happen to be starring in a Nigerian sitcom that is yet to be named.  Sue me for having a life.

But there is definitely something that I need to get off my chest.  I go to a lot of weddings.  Legitimately, I average 9 weddings a year.  I find that fantastic (except for the whole flying to, paying for hotel rooms and gifts [which my friends these days rarely get], and other accoutrements of weddings)!  I love all my friends and I am seriously more than thrilled that they have found partners to spend their life with!  However, my dating life is less than thrilling.

I find myself intelligent.  I have given myself IQ tests and I know it is much higher than most Americans.  I also find myself quite attractive.  I am not sure if it is because I have looked at my mug in the mirror the past 29 years, but I think there is something more attractive than the typical human being.  Conceited?  Probably. Do i care? No.

Here is my commentary on the previous:  Almost all of my friends have told me that I am nice, smart and attractive.  They often question me saying "how is it possible you are single?"  Or, "you are so cute, you will find someone some day".  I must admit, this is heady, enjoyable conversation.  But do my friends really mean it?  We have all told people that they are cute, in shape or nice because it was the right thing to do.  Don't lie to yourself.  You know you have done that.  My question is, can you ever be 100% sure that your friends are telling you the truth?

This is a strange article to write because most people will think I am writing this to get compliments on my looks or personality.  In fact, it is more of an open discussion on why we feel it is important to tell people that they are cute or have an awesome personality.  The fact is, I might not find a boyfriend or a partner, and quite frankly, I may end up single.  I had a date tonight who I thought was adorable, nice and smart.  He texted me and said 'we would be great friends'.  Can I fault him?  No. Do I want to? Yes.  Perhaps I was not what he was looking for, which is totally his prerogative, but I have to admit I am quite sick of people telling me that I will find someone "soon".

I have to admit, I still feel like Carrie Bradshaw and I hope that one day a Mr. Big will waltz into my life, but I have to say I will probably be less open about my dating life.  

Maybe I won't find someone.  And I think that we as friends should stop telling our friends that "they will find someone some day", when in actuality they might not.

I hope all my friends do end up happy, but it may not be in the cards for everyone.  

The Dating (Awkward) Game

I am not 100% crazy.   90%, sure.  But I swear there is some semblance or sanity that still lives in my head.  But when it comes to relationships, or dating/making out in general, you could basically call me Corky from Life Goes On and call it a day.  I am an absolute moron when it comes to pretending I know things about the (in my case) same sex.  I am more equipped to re-build a carburetor than date an actual human male, which is sadly saying a lot.

Here is the thing.  I find myself attractive.  It may be the 4 vodka cocktails I usually have before writing blogs of this sort, or it may be the fact that I am narcissistic beyond words, but I think my face is pretty adorable.  And my personality is hilar-balls.  Yes, it is true.  Where I am lacking is my body.  I belong to an expensive gym (mostly to meet rich male suitors), but let's be honest, I rarely go.  I make excuses by saying I work a lot and I take clients out a lot, so I have no time to go, but let us be honest, I am just lazy.  There are a couple of things I would like to address.  They are little gems of wisdom that make NO sense to me and I need help deciphering.

1.  I claim I am fat. A lot.  I know that is completely ridiculous.  I am not fat by any means.  I am almost skinny in some circles.  But in what is called 'gay world', I am shamu.  Nearly all my friends are straight, and they will never understand, but the fact is that in gay world, I am fat.  Here is the curious thing.  All my friends call me skinny and tell me I look good, but one has to question if they are being nice or serious.  I think there is a world where there is never a way to possibly know whether your friends are being honest or nice.  And if they are being honest, are we ever really able to truly believe them?

2.  Dating.  I belong to many websites and crazy places to meet men.  I have been on weird dates, fun dates, crazy sexting relationships, etc, but I will never understand the male psyche.  I can meet someone online (or on an iPhone app), and have the best "relationship" with them.  But when it comes time to meet, they always bail.  Is it something I said?  Are they secretly in a relationship?  Either way, if you try and call them out on it, you come across as a complete psycho.  When is it appropriate to call out your online fake boyfriend on his bluff?  And when you do call them out, you either look like a desperate mess (no way to avoid that), or a weirdo.  Sometimes though, you just want to know why the person never called you or texted you for that date.  Is there ever an appropriate way to ask why someone never texted or called you? Or do you always need to leave it and feel like a psycho?

Anyway, that is all I guess.  I seem like a mega psycho, but in the reality of it all, I just want to know what it is people don't like about me (or to my million followers, you) in general.  It is not that I am a complete psycho, it it just that I want to know, in all honestly, why you never call me after a fantastic date :)

AAAAANNNNND, scene ... 

Christmas for Myself

I know that Christmas is 2 months away, however, I had a wonderful idea that I was work-shopping in my head recently, and I thought perhaps I would blog about it and see if I could really bring it to fruition.  

Rewind:  My parents have always called me selfish and materialistic.  Fine, I admit it.  I like nice things.  I like name brands.  I think owning expensive things improves my self-worth.  Fine, I get it.  Not a great way to live my life, but hey, who doesn't want these things?  Anyway, as the years went on and everyone in my family was getting married and I was still single, I began to get even more materialistic and jealous around  Christmas.  Here is why:  

As my 3 siblings are all married, it gets rather expensive buying gifts for everyone.  I get it.  I live in NYC and I don't exactly have money lying around to buy gifts for everyone, including my parents and nieces.  A few years back, we went to the "Pick a Name out of a Hat" rule where you buy one gift for a sibling/sibling-in-law and spend up to $75.  Well, that is great - except when you are single.  And I know the spirit of Christmas is all about giving and not receiving, but whatever(!), this really just limits me to getting one gift.  My siblings are all buying gifts for their spouses, and vice-versa.  I, on the other hand, just get one gift.  Poor me you must be thinking!

Here is what I propose.  I would like to make a list of say, 20 things that I want for Christmas.  Then, I will give this list to my group of friends, along with $250 of my own money.  I will then ask that they pick a few items off my list and purchase them and wrap them for me.  Then, I will put these under my Christmas tree, and when Christmas comes, I will have more than 1 present to open.  And since they were bought off my list of 20 things, I technically won't know what I am getting!  What a surprise!

I think that this is a fantastic idea for anyone who is single out there and either a) feels slighted by their married siblings, or b) does not really have a family at all and really is gift-less at Christmas.  Thoughts, feelings, concerns? ...

Why, Oh Why, Button Fly??

What is the deal with button fly jeans?  Seriously.  Every pair of jeans that I seem to love and purchase as of late end up being button fly.  I need to ask myself, why would any designer make button fly over regular zipper jeans? 

You may say, aesthetically, button fly jeans look cool.  Well, while that may be true in theory, you cannot tell if a person is wearing button fly or zipper jeans when they are properly closed.  And let’s face it, 99.99% of people see us with our jeans buttoned or zipped. 

Also, one of the best things about being a guy is that we get to pee standing up.  And to go along with that, the best part about peeing while wearing pants, is that you can just pull your weenus out through your pant hole without unbuttoning the top button or undoing your belt.  Well, button fly jeans really ruin this.  Not only is it time consuming, it is also awkward at a bar when you have to undo your belt, and basically unbutton half your pants in order to relieve yourself, making the guy next to you think you are pulling some sort of Larry Craig.  And as I spend the majority of my time in straight bars, it is more awkward because most of the  guys there are not receptive to full frontal male nudity, sadly.

The only other reason I can think of to have button fly jeans is for weenus protection.  In case someone tries to give you a random handy at a bar.  I say, let the random hand jobs commence!  I am sure I would have gotten much more play at gay bars and on the subway had I not been wearing weenus armor (aka, a belt and button fly jeans).

So jean companies, I beg of you, please make cute, designer jeans that are zip fly instead of button fly.  It helps me pee easier and more quickly, and also opens me up to the opportunity of random weenus play.