Three Easy Strategies for Feeling Smug and On Top of Life

“I don’t know anybody who has lots of time who is happy,” Fern told me on the phone a couple weeks ago as I whined about my long angsty days, void of life purpose. The thing is I don’t know anybody who’s so busy they can’t think who is all that happy either. When I have too much to do, I feel violated and oppressed. Too little and I become self-loathing and miserable. How then, does one acquire a smug sense of being on top of life? I offer you the following three brilliant suggestions:

1.       Organize your Tupperware drawer.

 

I have a saying that goes, “Everyone loves a good Patrick.” My other saying is, “Most people’s Tupperware drawers are a total disaster.” It’s true. Very rarely have I ever belonged to a household whose Tupperware organization system did not lead me to fruitlessly search among melted and misshapen containers for equally ill-fated or non-existent lids. The quest typically generates more chaos in the designated Tupperware area and consequently, life seems far beyond the winning. Fortunately, you can make the decision to conquer your home’s receptacle mayhem.

 

In my life, I have had the enlightening experience of meeting at least two Tupperware Revolution Theorists. One woman, who also happened to give me my first Brazilian, recommends limiting yourself to three sizes, all of the same shape. The problem with this is that roommates and perhaps also partners generally come with a vast spectrum of Tupperware variation and they don’t usually like it when you chuck their things. Thus, this sort of Tupperware Revolution is not available to everyone. A second Tupperware Revolution Theorist suggests only storing your Tupperware with the lids in place. Sadly, this is close to impossible if your kitchen possesses any sort of space limitation which is almost inevitable. X-nay that, but thanks anyways.

You will have to discover the Perfect Tupperware Revolution that resonates with your soul and your kitchen. Everyone’s Tupperware Revolution is personal; however, certain universal principles apply. For example, throwing out mismatched, melted and/or super disgusting Tupperware is non-negotiable. So is wiping out any sort of crud or crumbs that have somehow made their way into your Tupperware drawer or cupboard. Don’t hold back. Trust me, it will be highly rewarding. Once you’ve decided which Tupperware continues to spark joy, it is time to arrange the plastic and/or glass vessels in the most logical fashion possible. I’m pretty certain that it’s better to keep lids and bottoms close together, but as I said, we are all responsible for our Personal Tupperware Revolution. For optimal smugness, be sure to take before and after shots.

 

The Waverly Household Tupperware Revolution

 

2.       Send Mail.

Sending mails requires extensive and empowering grown-up skills such as buying stamps, looking up postal codes on the internet and walking to the mailbox. The other selling point is, nobody ever died or cried from getting a postcard. I derive immense joy and satisfaction from sending people mail. This summer, I was delighted to come upon a man who sold vintage animal postcards in front of Metro Laurier. They were only fifty cents each. I bought dozens, mailed dozens, and it was so fun. Unlike Generic Married Men, whatever happens, animal postcards will always be there for you. 

 

 

 

Animal Postcard, Camel with Humps.

 

3.       Wash all your bedding and put your duvet back in its cover.

  

No need to get laid to wait until washing your sheets. The satisfaction of fresh clean bedding is everyone’s birthright. Having said that, the task of inserting your duvet into the appropriate corners can seem monumental. It’s almost worth settling for a mediocre partner just to have someone to help you with this. But believe me, if you persevere, you will succeed, and you’ll feel so smug and on top of life. Apparently, there are special tricks for flipping your duvet magically and effortlessly into the right corners. I don’t know much about this. You can’t be smug about everything.

 

Duvet-generated Smugness

 

The above activities are perfect examples of what you can put on your Ta-da List. A list that you make at the end of the day, the Ta-da List serves to officialise all of the day’s accomplishments, large or small. While to-do lists may generate pressure and performance anxiety, Ta-Da lists ensure smugness and fulfilment, even when your day was void of viral tweets and cervical orgasms. At the end of the day, do not let yourself hit the pillow in despair. Consider your commitment to Tupperware, personal correspondence, duvet covers or some other noble endeavour, and luxuriate in the truth that you are, indisputably, on top of life.

The End.
 

Exuberant Bodhisattva on Facebook
Twitter: @mypelvicfloor
I Let Go, self-help book by Erica J. Schmidt

Tips for Getting on Top of Life, with Gretchen Rubin

Business Ideas, on a Tuesday
Performative Crying in Alleys
The O's in the Toto have Hats
The Tidying Festival

 

Selfies on Happy Stairs

At the Halifax Seaport Farmers' Market, the Happy Stairs are where people sit and consume their strawberries or burritos or breakfast pizzas and bask in their own and everyone else's Happy Market Delight. Today there were fiddle and bass players who entertained the Happy Stairs People in our consumption.  Children bopped around to the music and everyone sighed and marvelled at how adorable they were. We even got a surprise man in plaid pants who indulged us in an impromptu tap dancing performance. 
 


The Happy Stairs, at the Halifax Seaport Farmers' Market
The tap dancer in plaid shorts danced away before I could take another unskilled photograph

 It is fun to look around and absorb the Magical Market Faces. I saw a man with bright blue eyes and a very Magical Market Face. I wanted to take a picture, but the Boatman said that I could hold him in my heart, instead of on my phone; in my emotional data, and not my cellular data. The Boatman was very proud of this clever line of his. He was also very happy with his sausage.
 


Boatman with Sausage
 

I judged the parents who imprisoned their large children in strollers, but I did not judge the Boatman for eating a sausage. For my Happy Stairs consumption, I ate some strawberries, an apple and an oversized espresso gluten-free cookie.

I can't remember when I started eating apple cores. So far I have not died of arsenic poisoning.

Now we are becoming like the despicable people on Facebook who are always posting themselves consuming or about to consume some immaculate and delicious food. How smug of us.

Our visits to the market always fill us with deep joy. To add to our joy, on our way out we ran into the marvellous musicians Rich & Kate. This lively duo combines clarinet, accordion, kazoo and vocals clarinet and accordion into a performance that is delightful for both ears and eyes. The Boatman met Rich & Kate at the White Rabbit Art Camp where he built things out of mud, made a bunch of drawings and also got an infection in his foot.

Here is the Boatman's Drawing of Rich & Kate:

 



More Boatman drawings of Rich &Kate on Tumblr at http://verysatisfied.tumblr.com
Follow Rich & Kate on Facebook
 



We watched them with love in our hearts as the Boatman finished his cappucinno, the kind he always buys at the Steve-o-Reno's booth.

The Selfie Series may or may not be over.

To conclude this segment, here are the beautiful doughnuts that my friend Shayna posted on Facebook in response to the first narcissistic selfie post, in which the Boatman and I prepare to eat market brownies on a Sunday morning. Shayna travelled a long distance to obtain these doughnuts and once she brought them home, she took a bite out of each one to see which one she liked the best. Like the Boatman and I, Shayna is not planning a wedding and she has no babies.

The End. 

Shayna's doughnuts.
Much love and thanks to the market vendors and musicians, and to Shayna for buying the doughnuts.

Exuberant Bodhisattva on Facebook
Twitter: @mypelvic floor
I Let Go, by Erica J. Schmidt

Selfies with Brownies
Jujubes
Why I am like Jane Fonda
 



 

 

 

 

Birth Control

Crocs

My first week back in Montessori school in September, Friday night. the Boatman and I started to make out. I put his thigh between my leg and started to hump it.

I closed my eyes and visions of pink and red crocs floated in front of me. I’d spent the week pulling urine- saturated pants off the children who wore those crocs and spraying the crocs with Lysol. Rubbing my crotch harder against the Boatman’s thigh did not make the crocs in my head go away.

“I can’t,” I said to the Boatman.



Crocs
(Image from the Sunday Blog)

  Pills

Lots of women I know went on birth control pills because their periods were odd and irregular. Some of them bled for three weeks straight, twice a year, or twelve times a year which sounds horrible. Others bled waterfalls, rushing back and forth to the bathroom managing their diva cups or their blood catching methods of choice.

I’ve heard of girls who have never menstruated at all and go on birth control to try and remedy their lacking or imbalanced hormones. Does this work? It seems sketchy to me.

Other reasons for going on birth control include bad zits and mood swings.

And of course lots of women go on birth control so that they won’t have babies. They take a different amount of hormones every day out of a little dispenser.  My old roommate had an alarm that went off every time she was supposed to take her “baby pills.” I have other friends who may or may not have taken their baby pills at the right time. Now they have real live babies.

Birth control isn’t very good for fish. We pee it out and then the fish drink our pee. The fish might grow a second head, or a very large scrotum. Something like that.

Birth control doesn’t work when you are on the antibiotic rifampin, the antifungal griseofulvin, various HIV medications, various anti-seizure medications, and St. John’s Wort. I learned this from Planned Parenthood.

When you go on birth control, you don’t get to have the exciting and spiritual experience of synchronizing your menstrual cycle with the moon. You’ll have to get your kicks elsewhere.



Baby Pills.

 

Pullout Method

I told a friend of mine that the Boatman and I used the withdrawal method.

He said, “You know what they call men who pull out?  Fathers.”

I told him that the Boatman has been pulling for over ten years, and never once got anyone pregnant. 

“Well, maybe he’s a dud,” said my friend.  I’d never thought of that, and when I did, I thought it wasn’t very nice. And I think my friend is wrong. We are part of the Pullout Generation and not everyone in it is a mother or a father

No public health nurse is going to recommend pulling out to teenage boys. Mostly, that would be a disaster. But after a certain number of orgasms, I don’t think it’s unrealistic for men to figure out the timing.

Of course we all have friends who have made babies while employing the withdrawal method. In approximately 100% of these cases, this happened because the penis remained in the vagina during ejaculation. That won’t work.

The withdrawal method might also not work if you have sex back to back without showering and peeing extensively. The sperm from the first time stays in the urethra which can make its way into where babies are made. If you are still horny after the first time around, I recommend humping things and/or putting different body parts in your mouth to get the edge off.

And/or  pee and/or shower thoroughly; however, some people think this is risky

People who give Pre-cum Lectures say that there is sperm in the pre-ejaculatory fluid even if you haven’t had any sex that day. There are not thousands of studies on the topic. The most cited study I have come across says that about 40 percent of 27 men had sperm in their pre-ejaculatory fluid, even though they peed between masturbation sessions. Regardless, the scientist inside of me would say that more studies are needed.  Also, if you’re the type of person who signs up for a masturbation study, perhaps you’re the type of person who arrives at the study having recently masturbated.

In any case, whatever sperm that makes it into pre-cum must not be that plentiful or potent because Planned Parenthood says that if used perfectly (and I’m quite sure that the Boatman is a withdrawing hero), only 4 couples out of 100 will get pregnant. For condoms, the stats are 2 out of 100. Oral contraception and the IUD are closer to perfect, but also a great deal more invasive. Knowing the Boatman’s odds before me, I am happy to give up less than a handful of chances of getting pregnant and join the simplicity of Generation Pullout. Wiser couples track their fertility at the same time, and use condoms during their more fertile times. Despite the crocs, we don’t even do that. I look forward to menopause when I can smugly or un-smugly letting you know how this went.

Speaking of smug, I love the song, “Pregnant Women are Smug,” and it enters my head approximately four times a week, and/or every time I see a pregnant woman, whichever is more.

 

 Pregnant Women are Smug

 

It is my dream to witness a birth, but so far no one has invited me. If you invite me, I promise I won’t say anything about it on the blog.

The End.

If you'd like to invite me to your birth, let me know: 

On my Facebook Fan Page

On Twitter: @mypelvicfloor

Or in the comments below

What the fuck should I do with my life, Part Two.
What the fuck should I do with my life, Part One.
Not That Kind of Girl