Susan McCorkindale

Does this happen in your house? You wash the towels so they’re clean and yummy smelling, dry them with softener sheets so they don’t scratch and are even more yummy smelling and put them in the bathroom all pretty, like this (if you’re hanging them on a hook):

or like this, if you’re hanging them on a towel bar:

and you walk in to discover this (yes, I’m sharing it again because – oy vey! – I can’t stand it!)

My sons do this. My late husband did this. My ex-husband did this. Why can men not hang towels properly? I know, I know. First world problems. And maybe it’s only my problem and no one else in the first world or any world cares. But it drives me crazy. Not nearly as crazy as finding wet towels on or under the bed (eh hem, CB), but still.

So I ask you, does this happen in your house? And, more importantly, do you care? If you do, what do you do? Refold and rehang them all the time (as I do)? And if you don’t care, how did you achieve such nirvana? Honestly, I need to know. Thanks!

Susan

Gratitude is the key to beating back anxiety. Join me for the new episode of Flaws Are The New Black and let’s talk about putting it to work for you and those you love.

It’s not jeans weather yet, but it will be. With the heat we’re having, anything heavier than shorts might not be necessary until November, but eventually jean season is going to arrive and, as I promised myself in June when I popped out of the last pair that fit, I’m going to be ready.

God, I miss Tostitos

A month ago I gave up Tostitos, resumed drinking three or four liters of water a day, and started speed walking again. I returned to lifting weights and doing sit-ups, too, and frankly, I thought I’d see more improvement by now. But no. My muffin top and bulging belly refuse to depart my person, and this does not bode well for the Hollisters I have to, have to, have to! fit in by the fall, whenever it arrives.

Time to get creative…and cheat

As it’s now early August, it’s not looking too promising that I’ll keep the promise I made to myself and so, rather than break that promise, grab a bag of Tostitos and have a pity party, I decided I’d try to cheat the system, if not my scale.

This morning I threw my favorite jeans in the wash and, when they were done, I put them on. (One at a time, of course. Two or three at once and I’d have died of suffocation and possibly hypothermia.) I walked around, squatted, did lunges, yanked at the waistband, squatted some more, and stared at myself in the mirror. “This could work,” I thought. “I must post to my blog of my brilliance!”

But first I needed an image to go with my post

Sure, I could have taken a photo of myself in my aforementioned freshly washed Hollisters, but why frighten people? Instead I went to Google, clicked on “images,” and typed the words “wearing wet jeans.”

BAM! Hundreds upon hundreds of sites dedicated to helping people squeeze their butts into their favorite jeans popped up. It was quite the blow to my brilliance; my trick was taken! I was so disappointed, I nearly called my mother. In fact, I still might. But not before sharing the details of my discoveries.

There’s four methods to this madness

• The bathtub method – Squeeze into your jeans and get in the tub. If they’re really tight, like mine are, you might have to sort of roll in, on your side, so be careful. There’s no sense drowning in pursuit of the perfect fit. Soak your jeans. Then get out, towel off, and stretch those suckers.
• The spray method – Squeeze into your jeans, lie down on your bed and button them (ouch!). Then use a spray bottle filled with warm water to soak the waistband. Wear the jeans until they dry or rescuers arrive to help you stand up.
• The hanger method – Soak the waistband then stretch it from one side of a wooden hanger to the other. It needs to be nice and taut so if it isn’t, go get a bigger hanger.
• The put-in-a-panel method – This is where you take your jeans to the tailor and have a panel put in the waistband to expand it. I don’t particularly care for this method as desperately trying to squeeze into my too tight jeans is something I prefer to do alone with my shame and sharing that shame with someone else is too traumatic.

The moral of the story?

Be careful what you go Googling for. You might find your brilliant idea’s been taken, your jeans still don’t fit, and your favorite crappy snack goes great with your morning coffee.