Is it just me or...?

Does it bother anyone else that people always stop and then TURN OFF their cars in movies and TV shows? Like, they'll be dropping someone off at home or stopping to talk to a neighbor or I don't know, trying to get a hooker (I've been watching A LOT OF "Law and Order SVU" these days) and they ALWAYS turn their car All. The. Way. Off.

A character will have no intention of getting out of the car or spending any meaningful amount of time stopped on the side of the road, but yet....there is always the detail that they have to turn the ignition and restart the car whenever they end up leaving. Just leave the car on, ya stupid idiots!

You may not think this is a big deal or all that annoying, but trust me. Now you will start noticing that people on TV and in movies are completely incapable of just putting the car in park and leaving it at that. And it will probably drive you insane like it has for me.

That's all for today.

Playing dirty

Personal hygiene is a dirty, dirty game people. I came to this Earth-shattering realization, like so many geniuses before me, in the shower. I was on step 1 of the grueling 12-step process that many women trudge through during every shower when something caught my eye.

Geo has ONE bottle of soap in the shower. One bottle. And on this bottle is a promise that the soap will do two things:

1. Get off the dirt
2. Leave hair manageable

That's it. One bottle, for his entire being. And it just cleans without also burning the hair off your body. Oh, and it smells pretty good, too. 

It was at this point that I looked at the tower of products I use. Shampoo, conditioner, face wash, shaving cream, several different body washes that attempt to manage whatever manic state my skin is in, products to treat pimples, products to prevent wrinkles, weekly deep conditioning treatment, not to mention all the tools that are required to apply said products.

And every product I have makes these incredibly amazing promises to do miraculous and necessary things. My shampoo ALONE claims to fix 10 - TEN! - things that are evidently wrong with my hair. Then everything else is supposed to smooth, lengthen, strengthen, soften, firm, volumize, minimize, color, protect, refreshen, reverse, enhance, nourish, and replenish every pore and hair on me.

No wonder women have so many hang-ups. 

Now, I realize everyone buys different products. I know this. But for the sake of my argument, I'm assuming that all men are exactly like my husband and all women are exactly like me. It makes it easier for me to prove my point.

So are women really that disgusting and haggard? Are we really in need of so much...help? 

In the interest of looking on the bright side, I tried to rationalize the gender war being waged in my shower. I said to Geo "Maybe this is why I expect so much from people and have trouble managing expectations. Why I'm not okay with the bare minimum. Maybe you can blame the personal hygiene industry for my neverending search for the perfect pair of boots or my confusion about why you can't take the Christmas tree out on the way to the gym. Hell, my shampoo can multi-task, why can't you?"

He didn't like that argument. Probably because it made complete sense.

At any rate, I have decided that men can't give women crap about being "high maintenance" or taking too long to get ready anymore. It's inevitable. It's literally required by the instructions on every product we own: "Do this, and then do it again, but gently and in small circles. Leave in for 64 days before rinsing and then following up with this OTHER product that has 18 additional steps. Finally, send us the receipts for the child you raised during this process for a chance to win a sample of a clarifying mask!!"

Anyway, for all the promises made on these products, I'm still not even sure anything is getting the dirt off of me. 

Slap some dirt on it

Bad news, everyone. Turns out I've probably been slowly but surely breeding super bugs in my own home. I came to this realization last weekend over a loverly Mexican dinner with Geo and two of our friends, and I haven't gotten over it yet.

Before I proceed, let me assure you all that I DON'T DO research. I listen to things people tell me and if I like that person and think they are smart, I'll just go ahead and believe whatever they tell me. I'm fun like that. Now, if I DON'T like you and think you have dumb hair or something, I will probably not believe a word you say and decide to forever contradict you at every opportunity. That's how I get my facts; and that's how I like it. (Case in point: I've never ever liked Jenny McCarthy, and look how that whole anti-vacc thing turned out.)

Okay, moving on. So since getting married, I have suddenly decided to care about my home. This means that I like to clean certain things. Bathrooms and kitchens, in particular. There is nothing I like more than a clean counter, sanitized toilets and sparkling clean bathtub. It makes me feel like a grownup.

The problem I learned this weekend is that just about every cleaning product I own contains antibacterial. And the problem with THIS is that apparently, now I'm OVERCLEANING.

My friend Chad told me about this at dinner, and I completely believe him because he has nice hair and I like him. Also, he's a doctor. So, he's pretty legit. He was like "If you keep using antibacterial, you could just force some bacteria to mutate in order to become immune to antibacterial. And the things that do survive could turn into super bugs." Now, this is all a VERY messy conclusion of what he actually said, because he used some big science-y words, so I just went along with it and picked out things I could grasp. But the gist seems to be that too much clean equals I may have to live in a bubble someday.

This was devastating to me. When I was growing up, my parents were firm supporters of the "sewer rat" theory. This theory basically boils down to the fact that sewer rats are not exposed to sterile environments, and have therefore built up an impressive immune system. So, my parents weren't overly concerned about us (me) standing on the kitchen counters with bare feet or playing outside and then eating a PB&M(ayonnaise) sandwich without washing our hands. And we're pretty much okay now. Also? I'm not allergic to ANYthing. (For 2 years I thought I was allergic to bananas, but turns out I just didn't like them and they made me gag.)

So, their theory pans out, as far as I'm concerned.

And now I feel like a total failure. I've been drowning the very things that kept me healthy and strong as a kid in an absurd amount of chemicals. Have I ruined everything?! Is it too late to jump on that weird organic/chemical-free product bandwagon that I completely wrote off because of that uppity chick I knew in college who would wipe down the bar stools with a homemade organic sani-wipe?

I also am annoyed that I have unknowingly contributed to this super-bug-breeding movement. But I swear, I don't SET OUT to get antibacterial products, I just buy the things that smell good and are easy to use. Screw you, Lysol wipes.

I've never been a germophobe or clean freak or anything. I just thought that grownups clean and so I should clean. I'm not scared of dirt or cooties. I'm okay with tap water. I will faithfully adhere to the 10-second rule. Public restrooms don't scare me. My favorite T-shirt in the world is one of Geo's that I picked out of the garbage. I assume that the hands of my nieces and nephews are, you know, clean ENOUGH to dig around in my mouth for the gumball I put in there.

Well, the only conclusion I can draw from all this is that cleaning is for chumps. And when I do clean, I can just smear a damp paper towel around and call it a day. So, who's coming over for dinner!?

The Princess and the P(haron)

Being married has shed some light on some personal traits of mine that I failed to recognize when I was all being an independent warrior. Some are delightful to learn (I love cleaning bathrooms and kitchen counters, and can take incredibly good care of my husband when he is sick). Others? Not so much.

Apparently, sometimes I snore.

It shouldn't be a big deal. I know this. But it has become a very real and very dramatic development in my marriage. See, not to brag or anything, but I'm very good at sleeping. I grew up in a house with six other people and often shared a room. I've had roommates for 99% percent of my adult life, including the three years I lived with nothing but men. I can sleep through darn near everything.

Geo? Not so much. Geo doesn't fall into the drooling mess of sleep that I do. He sleeps soundly but is always alert. Like a cat ninja or something.

I apparently turn into body lump that conjures up dragons with my breathing.

There is nothing more un-ladylike than snoring. Nothing. And quite frankly, it's EXTREMELY embarrassing. Every time Geo nudges me at night or gently whispers "OMG, please stop snoring for the love of all that is good and holy," I fall into this weird spiral of humiliation and stress. I hate it when I wake him up. I hate knowing that I can't control what I do in my sleep.

But mostly, I hate that he can't just be better at sleeping.

I downloaded an app that records sleep patterns and sounds. Every time noise is made, it records until the sound dies down. I have recorded multiple nights of my sleeping and only twice have heard myself snoring. And while it wasn't some adorable, girlish, giggly type of snoring, it only lasted for like 6 or 7 "KHUUUUUUUGH!"s. Hardly something that would ever drum me out of a blissful REM cycle.

And also? Nine nights out of 10, I don't snore. It's usually only when I'm EXTREMELY tired or after a night of drinking. But the anxiety that I MIGHT snore and wake up my beloved is enough to make me incredibly restless and nervous on all the other nights.

It's really been upsetting me lately. Maybe I'm sleep deprived. But I don't like waking Geo up; on the other hand, he should probably just learn to sleep harder. Is that possible to do?

Really the worst part is being annoying or disruptive when I can't even do anything about it. It's an incredibly helpless feeling. Also? It just makes me feel so, I don't know, so NOT like a girl.

Part of me feels bad for Geo. He's tried nudging me, whispering to me, shoving me, and just straight up yelling at me when I'm snoring. Everything he has tried is met by my tears, apologies, or outright rages, depending on how sleepy I am.

But the other part of me is so wildly offended. I have literally recorded myself sleeping and found that the impression I get from Geo's nocturnal notifications, which is that my body is an angry volcano of relentless sound, is not as bad as I have imagined.

It really has become a point of contention. He keeps having the nerve to be awoken by my nasally alarm and I keep insisting that he's overreacting. Will either of us win?I highly doubt it. All I know is that I'll probably sleep just fine tonight.

In Defense of the Nag

So many wives are portrayed as naggy, bossy women. Have you ever noticed that? I have. And for a long time, I counted myself as the diamond in the rough. The "cool girl" (what up, Gone Girl fans!!) who didn't nag; who gave my husband the benefit of the doubt; who didn't worry about telling Geo what to do because he clearly has made it this far without me.

But it's October. And this is still a thing:

That, my friends, is our Christmas tree from LAST YEAR. And that is our garage. THIS MORNING.

I asked Geo once in January to get rid of the tree because he is a very strong man and has a very nice SUV with a back end that is the same size as a Christmas tree. He carried it as far as the garage before saying "I'll bring it to the disposal place after work." Maybe it's my fault for not asking him WHICH work day he was planning on doing that.

I then reminded him in March that the place stops accepting trees in April, so it'd probably be a good idea to get that tree outta here. I maybe should have told him April of THIS YEAR. Because yes, it's still a thing sitting in our garage.

To be fair, I truly don't care about it. It's not in my way, and despite probably being a fire hazard, it simply doesn't concern me. That's just the way I am, though. If I really cared about getting something done, I'd just do it myself probably. I'm quite self-sufficient and would rather do things my way, anyway. But times are a'changin'. Now I have someone to split duties with, and I need to take better advantage of that.

Maybe the problem is that I only ask Geo to do really annoying jobs that I don't want to do. But then again, sometimes I'll say something like "Hey, you're going to get water? Can you get my bread carrot sticks too?" and he'll come back with water and one empty hand.

Now, it is very important to note here that I don't take this as a slight. I don't think he's just ignoring me or being insensitive. I think there are certain things men -- sorry, men but I can guarantee this is universally true for every single man on the planet -- HEAR, but don't actually PROCESS. Probably the result of spending so much time listening to people like me complain about an upsetting experience with the salesperson at DSW.

But, Geo says he wants me to remind him to do stuff. He'll say, "Pharon, I'm more than happy to pick up these three things at Target later, but just remind me!" and I'll say "No! Can't you just remember?" He doesn't know that "reminding" him is the same, to me at least, as nagging. So I keep not saying anything and he keeps forgetting. And yes, the other night he came home with nothing but frozen pizza, ice cream and the list of things I needed from Target, but none of the items ON the list.

I can't MAKE someone remember things. I can't FORCE people to stop in the middle of a thing they are doing and think "Wait, did Pharon need something?" even though I, a woman, am completely capable of doing this.

So, basically, I'm trying to convince myself  that I, Pharon Square -- a staunch anti-nagger and person with nothing but 100% confidence in my husband -- will have to start nagging. Except, I'm not going to call it nagging, since Geo doesn't call it nagging, either. I don't like it, but all I need to do is walk out to our garage and see what happens when I don't na-- I mean, REMIND someone to do something.

Knock, Knock

As a work-from-home person, I spend roughly 99% of my days inside my home. I know that probably reads more pathetic and sad than it should, but that's just the truth.

Being alone inside your home a lot makes you into a certain kind of person: a suspicious person. For instance, I've started to get very suspicious about this weird kid who goes out and swings at the playground across from my driveway EVERY SINGLE DAY, multiple TIMES a day for like an HOUR. I have concluded that he is 1) a weirdo 2) the child of a prostitute or drug dealer or something who ALSO "works from home" and is sent outside to play whenever Mom or Dad is doing business or 3) trying to spy on me.

See? I am suspicious of something as legit as a kid playing on a playground.

But what really gets my suspicion up is a random visitor. (See, I live at least 75 miles away from just about every person I know; therefore I'm never prepared to have someone I know show up at my door without warning.) Today, for example, I heard a knock on my door. Instead of just getting up and answering the door, I muted the TV and hid in the kitchen. I thought "I'm not expecting anyone! Stranger Danger! Also: What person in their right mind would KNOCK on a door when there is CLEARLY a doorbell?" I assumed it was a murderer or a robber and hid my wedding rings inside my towel drawer.

After a few mins, the visitor rang the bell. I finally decided that whoever was at the door really needs to see me and is dumb enough not to ring the bell right away, so how dangerous could he/she/they even be?

I cautiously opened the door and saw two very well-dressed ladies with nice lipstick on. Phew! I smiled and opened the storm door. They smiled back and asked how I was. Before I could say "Well, pretty good considering the fact that I thought you were murderers," the first lady said "We want to talk to you about Bible studies."

That's the thing with scary people: They never look like how you'd expect.

Now, I'm not saying that people talking about the Bible is scary. I'm a good ol' Midwestern Christian, after all. But I DO find something very unnerving about people who find it necessary to bombard someone in the comfort of their own home in the middle of the day. The Jehovah's Witnesses have been making the rounds here lately, too. They send a couple pre-teen boys who should be MUCH more scared about knocking on strangers' doors than they appeared to be when they knocked on mine.

At the end of the day, I think it all comes down to one fact: I might be a borderline paranoid shut-in.

Okay, that might be a titch melodramatic. But who knocks on someone's door unannounced anymore? It's, like, downright RUDE. The normal thing to do is text or email with some sort of warning and ask for permission. Even the antiquated Post Office emails me to tell me that someone will come by today and leave a package at my door. They don't knock/ring the bell and insist I put on pants to make an in-person appearance.

Coming to my house without warning is a surefire way to ruin my day. Chances are I haven't brushed my teeth, may or may not have pants on, am busy watching Saved By the Bell on Netflix and don't want anyone to know that, or I'm simply sitting in the middle of an incredibly messy house and would rather give up carbs than let anyone inside.

I guess when you really break it down, the reason I don't like someone showing up at my door is the same reason I don't answer phone calls from strange or blocked numbers. If you don't know me well enough to identify yourself before I have to talk to you, I will immediately assume you are trying to murder me and/or sell me something. Both are super mean and both are perfectly good reasons to not answer.

In closing, times are a-changin'. It's no longer quaint or friendly to stop by someone's house unannounced. Unless, like, a person is not answering their phone and never showed up to work. Then by all means go on over. But otherwise? Consider me: Hiding in the kitchen ready to call the cops.

Pharon Square for Mayor of Rochester!

Fellow Americans! God Bless the U.S.A. and the foolproof, rock solid political system! I, Pharon Square, would like to throw my hat into the Rochester, MN mayoral race. I thought I had to be a resident of this fine city for one year before running. And today is officially Day 365.

However, I -- like so many promising young politicians -- failed to do a quick Google search before jumping to my conclusion. In fact, I only needed to be here for 30 DAYS before meeting eligibility requirements. Lucky for you, my fair residents of Mayoville, U.S.A., I will not be deterred!

And now, in this timeless and super official medium of a blog, I would like to present my platform.

As Mayor of Rochester, I think it's time for change! Change, I say! No more should we be bound by the ways of yesteryear. No more should we cower in the face of innovation. I say that today...Today we are Ready for Tomorrow (orrow, orrow)!

Previous thinkers have decided it was perfectly fine to build a fancy hospital in a non-fancy city. A city of chain restaurants and multiple yarn stores. A city where, if you block out the hospital and the various high-end luxury vehicles, you would feel as though you were living in the bustling age of the 1980s.

I, my dear Rochesterians, feel that we deserve more! We deserve a place to eat where the salads are as delicious (and plentiful) as the cheese curds; where there is more than one radio station to listen to; where the lakes and natural habitats are not surrounded by violent geese or rabid owls.

And it's time to prove ourselves! Newt's keeps saying they have the best burgers in the city....wonderful, right? Well, there is no competition! Not one Nook, Blue Door, Matt's, 5-8 or Red Cow for miles! (Outsiders, those are all INCREDIBLY good places for burgers in Minneapolis.) And where will I buy your birthday present? Francesca's, because there are zero other cute, fun stores with clever and affordable gifts in sight.

After my one long year in this city, I know that there is much to be saved here. Sure, there are still people picketing at the Planned Parenthood and refusing to use blinkers when driving. But! There is a very real and earnest desire to be better!

Now, there are, by my count, 100 schools and 10 zillion playgrounds around. I'm sure some people think those things are important, but I don't. And also, a new restaurant WAS just built near my house, but it was another McDonald's.  There are now 3 McDonald's within 3 miles of me. What does that say to the children of these fancy Mayo doctors who are randomly obsessed with kale and chia seeds?

In my bid for Mayor, I plan to force everyone to try and be better...cooler...more like the awesome folks in Minneapolis. Open up new restaurants with fresh ingredients and exciting menus. Try out some hair salons that are not named with puns and offer a glass of wine with a post-work cut. Try and build a venue that attracts better acts than Coolio. Make public parking downtown NOT be a nightmare and allow non-Mayo peeps to park in parking lots whenever they want. While we're at it, let's stop making Mayo employees' spouses drive them to and from work by building better ramps! (Really, people, let's just try and bring the parking situation into the 21st century.)

This is the time, people! The time to rise up and demand more from a city built on a history of being the best and attracting the brightest! Let's not just pool all our resources into Mayo! Let's build a city that we can ALL enjoy!!

We have a lot of potential, Rochesterians. And while I really have zero desire to be here for another full year, I know that I could really turn this town into a place I wouldn't mind getting stranded in when I'm driving between Minnesota and Iowa. A vote cast for Pharon Square is a vote cast for a quick and dirty fix! Who doesn't want that?!

So, what say you, fellow voters? Are you with me?