March 12th, 2007

There’s absolutely nothing on TV tonight, so while we clickity clack away on our little laptops, making money to pay for the neverending stream of dental care, Splash is on. Splash! Surely you know Splash. Tom Hanks. Daryl Hannah. Some sort of unbelievable mermaid plot that continues to be rehashed over and over and bloody over again in different incarnations including one starring Julia Roberts’ niece that I will fully cop to watching on HBO, but I really don’t care, because honestly? I love it. I’ve always wanted to be a mermaid. Hasn’t everyone? I have an ungodly amount of the movie memorized, and what I find particularly amusing is that everyone makes fun of the name Madison that Daryl has chosen for herself, and yet – and yet! – it’s one of the most popular names today, and right now, as I sit here, there are four, maybe six, Madisons being born right here in this county! I’m sure of it! And all of them are hoping to grow up to be mermaids. I know I am.

I realize this is about as exciting as watching mold grow, but I feel disingenuous in not sharing that I’m on Weight Watchers. Again. And what I find increasingly disturbing is that I don’t know what I’m doing right or wrong, but at the end of every day, I have too many points leftover, and I’m stuck trying to figure something out to eat. I know, cry me a fucking river, but I just have to figure that I’m doing it wrong, and surely, I can’t be adding up all my points properly, because it’s not like the weight is falling off of me in thick sheets, and yet I’m not that hungry. And while I’m doing my fair share of Draconian measures such as sucking down beef bouillon for snacking sustenance during the day because I’m so scared of running out of points, I feel astonishingly guilty pouring a little bowl of cereal at 11 p.m., because I’ve got 4 points left, and like bloody hell I’m going to leave food uneaten. Not leaving food uneaten is the reason I’m converting foods to weird little point values and entering them into the least user-friendly system ever (HONESTLY WEIGHT WATCHERS. Hire a GUI designer, would you?)

This is the first time I’ve done the Flex Plan (I’m a Core veteran), and it’s just…well, something’s not right, but I’ll tell you what’s even less right is seeing the lowest weight I was the last time I was on Weight Watchers. MY GOD, I was a skinny little bitch, and yet I wandered around whining about how big my hips were. I’d like to punch that little 130-pound me right in the face, and tell her to go eat a taco, that’s what I’d like to do.

And since nothing is more exciting than weight loss or lack thereof, except maybe periods, I feel compelled to mention that the P decided to take a break from its friends M and S while I was in the car on the way to the airport, and mildly panicked that things weren’t going well down there. And also, I was extremely crampy, which required me to purchase one of those minipacks of Midol at the airport, which, by the way, was impossible to find, along with tampons, and wouldn’t you think they should just build a giant vending machine in the middle of the terminal and charge $10 per tampon? Because, honestly, if there’s ever a time where you’re willing to pay a premium for tampons and Midol, it’s just before you get on a plane where things could get…sticky, and hell, they have a captive audience. Then of course, I would start packing a box in my carry-on and sell them on the black market, like contraband. Except then I would have to start carrying Playtex, or at least something with a plastic applicator, and…no…so there goes my career as traveling illegal tampon seller.

Anyway, after the Midol was purchased, the man behind the counter offered to open it for me, which I guess was kind of nice, except that he screamed it repeatedly in broken English, along with too much detail for anyone, except for maybe Dwight Schrute. Honestly, he yelled, in front of an entire line,


And then he repeated it again, nodding as he whipped out a (child-like, safety) scissors and freed the tablets from the plastic.


I fully realize the irony in me telling way more people about this than were in line at the airport, but it’s very different when someone says “I RELIEVE CRAMPS” over and over again like a mantra, when all you want to do is PAY for the cramp relief without the personal touch, and you don’t want an entire line of people watching you cross and uncross your legs in terrified desperation, only to see you waddle off to the bathroom in search of some assistance before things get out of hand. And while that was very nice and all, and I do think he meant well, but isn’t that kind of…weird? Never mind. I know it’s weird. Of course it’s weird. But, ah, well meaning.


Happy almost-Tuesday!

*The Roots. The punctuation is even correct.

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17 Comments Add your own

  • 1. amanda  |  March 12th, 2007 at 8:28 pm

    Damn, that’s lousy. Did you read Larry Miller’s Spoiled Rotten America? He has a bit about trying to buy a Playboy that is hysterical. That and another section about getting a massage from a strapping young blonde hunk make it worth the $20 and change to buy.
    Splash, about the same vintage as Greatest American Hero? Because god help me the Believe it or Not song has been flapping through my noggin for an ungodly amount of time.
    Happy cramp relief.

  • 2. jes  |  March 12th, 2007 at 8:55 pm

    Oh, gah. I can imagine that all too well, having been there before buying the tampon/chocolate combo to soothe the nerves.

    When I read the entry the first time, I misunderstood what you wrote and I THOUGHT HE WAS OFFERING TO OPEN YOUR TAMPON FOR YOU, and all I could think about was how dirty his hands probably were and how that applicator goes in…private parts. And then it would be like his dirty hands had been in your private parts, and ewwww! That’s creepy.

  • 3. kara marie  |  March 12th, 2007 at 9:02 pm

    Too bad he couldn’t back that claim up. I relieve cramps? What a rad superpower that would be. Magical cramp relief.

    Every time I go to a store to buy Pamprin or Midol I can’t find it, I get into a rage, and then snarl to whoever I’m with loudly (or myself), “WHY THE HELL DON’T THEY HAVE MIDOL, IT SHOULD BE RIGHT HERE, I HATE THIS PLACE” or something equally pleasant. Then I find it. Right under my nose. Then I slink to the checkout lane with my Midol, a box of tampons, a candy bar and a Sunkist. Or a bottle of wine. And the cashier always sees the purchases and still asks cheerfully, “How are you today?” I’d like to have that question replaced with, “I RELIEVE CRAMPS.”

  • 4. theotherbear  |  March 12th, 2007 at 10:01 pm

    HAHA – how funny. And now I also have “Believe it or Not” on the brain. Gah!

  • 5. Schnozz  |  March 13th, 2007 at 12:31 am

    Two words, especially when one is traveling: diva cup.

    Unless you’re one of those people who is insanely grossed out by your own body, which I’m really not. Also, I like having something that I can just wear as a preemptive measure without any scary bacterial grossness happening. And something I can wear through security. And something I will never run out of. And something that is so comfy. And something that I only have to deal with twice a day.

    In the interest of full disclosure, I should say that I AM KIND OF BIASED ON ACCOUNT OF MY INTENSE LOVE FOR THE DIVA CUP.

  • 6. Christine  |  March 13th, 2007 at 6:35 am

    Oh that’s hilarious, I RELIEVE CRAMPS.

    Also, I have used the Diva Cup of which Schnozz speaks, and lo, it is great. Lately I’ve been using the tampons, because I lost my diva cup in a suitcase and had bought a box, but now the tampons are done and the Diva Cup has been found.

  • 7. Amanda  |  March 13th, 2007 at 7:01 am

    I remember having a fat day when I tipped the scale at 123. What wasted fat dayness! Now it’s a good day if I’m below 150 (which I’m not…ugh). But I am sure if I ever got up to 180 or something I’d look back on these 150ish days and wish I had enjoyed them and realized that I actually do look pretty OK.
    It’s all about perspective, I s’pose.
    I think you already look great, but I hope your efforts pay off. :)

  • 8. Suebob  |  March 13th, 2007 at 7:51 am

    The line I remember best from Splash is when Daryl emerges from the sea and the park cop yells “BOCCE!!! BALLS!!!”

  • 9. Claire  |  March 13th, 2007 at 8:42 am

    oh, that is so funny. though, i would think that it is totally weird that a stranger wants to open my medication for me. medication that is strictly female-oriented in an airport gift shop. i don’t know, that would kind of make me run away, quickly.

    good luck on the damned WW. while i KNOW that it worked and i DID lose weight, i just couldn’t hack it. I’m sure i’ll start it up again someday… just like everyone else does, but for now, i’m just going to be uncomfortably fat and complain outloud to whoever will listen.

    And you’re TOTALLY right about their website. i used to HATE it.

  • 10. lizgwiz  |  March 13th, 2007 at 9:08 am

    That man’s wife is a lucky, lucky woman, isn’t she? A husband who relieves cramps? That’s what I’m talkin’ about. Hee.

  • 11. winterwheat  |  March 13th, 2007 at 10:49 am

    Have you ever seen the movie Amazon Women on the Moon? It’s just a bunch of comedic skits with famous people in them, and one of the skits, featuring a teenage boy buying condoms, totally reminded me of your experience with Midol Man. Please, go rent it now.

  • 12. Leah  |  March 13th, 2007 at 10:52 am

    “Splash” was singlehandedly responsible for the sexual awakening of my then-prepubescent now-boyfriend. Perhaps that explains why he’s always so anxious to get me into a seashell bra?

  • 13. reluctant housewife  |  March 13th, 2007 at 12:18 pm


    he he.

    Sorry you had to live through that for our amusement, but this story has made my day. Thanks for sharing.

  • 14. page  |  March 13th, 2007 at 7:53 pm

    I’m on WW too… a lifer and also on flex, and I feel your pain. You’re just eating well, probably, and veggies are so damn few points that it really makes a huge difference. Comes from being a core vet.

    The Keeper, Schnozz? I was just reading about htat thing, I think on JurgenNation. I was kind of freaked by the idea of using it- I once used an “Instead” (god, these names they come up with) and ended up spilling blood all over the damned place. So I’ve been reluctant, and the pics are as bad as the latter post on your site describes, Jonniker! Huh. Conundrum.

    I relieve cramps. Jeeesus.

  • 15. guinness girl  |  March 15th, 2007 at 6:53 am

    I am truly frightened by the Diva Cup. However, I’m thrilled that you have answered my career crisis! I now know what I want to be when I grow up! No, I dont’ aspire to become a Diva Cup, which the manner in which I have organized this comment seems to indicate – instead, the career for me is Traveling Illegal Tampon Salesperson. Awesome.

  • 16. Jen from boston  |  March 15th, 2007 at 2:10 pm

    Ohh “the CRAMPS!” hahaaaa. Yah, that rates up there when a man of foreign descent (Indian I think ) told my sister, then age 15-16, that she would “MAKE GOOD WIFE” as his son, also about same age, was being fitted for shoes by her (Thom McAn, if you’re curious). My sister said the kid was this dork staring/smiling at at me all drooly-like “Yeah, uh- huh! Yes, I’ll take her!”

    I should start saying that at work to see what happens.


    My sister “MAKE GOOD WIFE.”

  • 17. Wondering… | whoorl&hellip  |  October 13th, 2011 at 10:28 am

    […] is the deal with Weight Watchers? I swear I have read countless entries this week about Weight Watchers. Is it post-holiday diet time? Is the plan THAT good? […]

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