Hi all! Sorry I’ve been slack about posting lately but between deadlines and the month of May, I’m out of steam! But for you, I’m dredging up something my friends and I came up with one night over a couple of bottles of wine. It was good for a few laughs then…Not so sure if by the light of day it’s quite so amusing…You decide.

Okay, ladies, you’ve all faced this dilemma. You’re rifling through your purse, digging for your keys, sunglasses, wallet, whatever, when you pull up at least one and probably several unusable tampons, the wrappers half-unraveled, no longer something you want to use for their intended purpose. Yet it seems such a waste to just toss them in the trash bin. After much deliberation and consultation with experts, and in the interest of economy and ecology, I have compiled an extensive list of suggested uses for these seemingly useless items. Next time you start digging in your purse, you too can imagine the possibilities…

(oh, and by the way, there might be exactly 101…I got tired of counting!)

Top Uses for Unravelled Tampons

1)  Stop those annoying nose bleeds

2)  Ear plugs

3)  Pretend sticks of dynamite for the kids

4)  Mop up small spills on the floor

5)  Effectively dabs away tears

6)  Unusual hair accessory

7)  Tie several together to make unique pompom

8 )  Plug holes in boat

9)  Creative dangly earrings

10) Zit cover-up applicator

11) Christmas ornament

12) Pasties in a pinch

13) String along rope for one of a kind garland décor

14) Toothbrush of last resort

15) Drapery tassles

16) Roll in catnip to drive your cat crazy with insta-kitty toy

17) Fringe for flapper dress

18) Pull cord for lamp or ceiling fan

19) Unique tool for sponge painting

20) Finial for curtain rods

21) Plug holes in dikes

22) Dab on pizza to absorb excess grease

23) Avante garde indoor plant decoration

24) Tie on dog’s tail and watch Fido chase his tail for hours

25) Dental cotton

26) Useful paint applicator

27) Use to skim fat from surface of soup broth

28) Tassels for loafers

29) Makes great parrot toy

30) Ideal for quick dusting of crumbs from moustache

31) Dip in hot wax, then ignite string end for unusual taper

32) Tie clusters on ends of bike handlebars, watch them flap in the wind!

33) Decorate bumpers of newlyweds car

34) Tongue depressor (added bonus, ends problematic side affect of drooling)

35) Great pretend rescue float for Lifeguard Barbie

36) Dip in hot wax and use as sink-proof key ring for boat keys

37) Starter kindling for fireplace

38) Collect lots and use for confetti

39) Paint in pretty pastel colors and tie together for stylish bouquet

40) Final touch for gift wrap packaging—no more curling ribbon!

41) Suspend in clusters from tomato stakes to frighten deer and crows away

42) Glue on rim of picture frame for textured look

43) Just for fun, fill sink with water, see how many it takes to absorb all the water in the sink!

44) Science experiments

45) Great for cleaning test tubes

46) Use to polish sunglasses

47) Wrap with old tootsie roll wrapper and fool your friends when you offer them candy!

48) Soak in witch hazel, squeeze out, and press over puffy eyes

49) Perfect shape for cleaning out dogs’ ears

50) Glue several, end to end, leaving string on one end. paint camouflage earth tones, tease your sister with authentic fake snake

51) Pretend cigar

52) Polka dot applicator

53) Tie on car antenna for ease in finding vehicle in crowded parking lot

54) Makes great protective packaging materials instead of landfill-unfriendly Styrofoam

55) Tie string in loop, use as napkin ring

56) Have crazy tampon  battle with your friends: just aim and shoot

57) Use cardboard tube to shoot spitballs (added bonus: you can even use wrapper for spitball!)

58) Tube makes a fun straw

59) Poke holes in tube to make a slide whistle

60) Connect cardboard tubes together for chopsticks

61) Insert pointer finger in cardboard tube and annoy friends by tapping them with it

62) Glue tubes together in random format to make reindeer antlers for Christmas play

63) Replacement Nerf gun ammunition

64) Cardboard tube is great storage for your favorite pens

65) Cardboard tube makes perfect spyglass

66) Secure tampons at armpit, avoid embarrassing pit stains on dry clean only clothes

67) Pacifier/drool inhibitor for teething baby

68) Place between toes during pedicure

69) Drop in outdoor fountain for “instant water lily”

70) Connect cardboard tubes together for drumsticks

71) Unscrupulous plumber trick: drop down drain before leaving plumbing job; guarantees a return call to find source of new clog

72) Tape to finger tips and enjoy gratifying thump thump thump while drumming fingers

73) More effective than sandbags for halting encroaching flood waters

74) Snip off string and works as comfie Barbie neck pillow

75) Great tool for hypnosis (you are getting sleepy)

76) Fill tube w/ coffee beans, cover ends w/ pointer finger and thumb for handy percussion instrument

 

Okay so I don’t have quite 101, but I’ll add more if I think of them. In the meantime, saving the last for last…

101) Dangle in front of husband to use as excuse to get out of sex (don’t have to say you have a headache, just shrug your shoulders and say, “Gee, can’t honey, I’m having my period!”). He’ll run the other way with no questions asked.

Yes, folks, this was made entirely of tampons. How’s that for creativity?

Don’t worry, I’m not about to write about swine flu. Just had to clear the air on that, what with the pig reference in the title. No, instead I’m going to regale you with far more compelling subject matter: wee wee. Well, not exactly. I’ve been thinking about wee-wee a bit lately, but really I’m not going to talk about it. At least not in it’s truest form.

You see my daughter is in an upcoming musical at her high school. She loves to sing and do all of those theatrical things and my husband and I have enjoyed watching her grow as a performer and we were duly thrilled that she was going to try out for the musical this year. I pictured her belting out songs about the corn being knee-high by the Fourth of July, or being Hopelessly Devoted to whomever was the closest thing to John Travolta that the school could scratch up, or maybe even getting a bit edgier and joining the ensemble cast in a rousing rendition of Seasons of Love from Rent.

But instead, she and her peers will be singing about pee. Yeah, I know, that sounds so terrifically disgusting. But really, it’s nothing but funny. They had a new drama teacher this year who wanted to undertake something a little bit different than the usual high school musical productions, to give everyone something to talk about, and she decided that this year they would put on Urinetown. Yep, that’s the title. Urinetown.

And then I got asked to help to publicize the play and I have a background in public relations so I was more than happy to do so, but then the reality kicked in once I actually started talking it up. Every time I’ve mentioned this play to anyone, I’m met with this:

“Urinetown? As in urine town? Oh.” And then their eyes glaze over. And I can’t say that I blame them because, I mean, the title is a little off-putting. 

I even thought about pitching it as You’re In Town, figuring nobody would know the difference. I came up with the line I’d use for reporters:

“I wanted to let you know that the high school will be putting on a play, and it’s been fabulously well-received on Broadway. Tony Award-winning, in fact. Yeah, uh-huh. Uh-huh. It’s called You’re In Town.”

I figured they’d just sort of in their minds mix it with Our Town, an old chestnut that gets dragged out by all kinds of high school drama departments during play season. 

Admittedly I’m not quite “in the know” in the world of drama, despite a potentially lurid addiction to People magazine. But that’s more to do with pop culture than actual theatrics. 

The extent of my acting prowess consisted of a quasi-starring role as Aunt Sally in Mr. Popsack’s sixth grade production of Huck Finn. I made quite the memorable entrance when I tripped over a tree stump prop in a night scene during the first few minutes of the play, flipping heels over head and landing on my back. Despite my abject humiliation from that gaff, I received rave reviews, and Charlotte Tragard, the actress in our modest little high school, pulled me aside and told me I had a future in the arts.

Little did I know that future would be in trying to convince people that a play about pee is a must-see production. 

For those of you who aren’t familiar with Urinetown, don’t let the title scare you. It’s good, clean fun for the whole family. And perfectly relevant for the times in which we live, complete with corrupt politicians, corporate greed, and ecological devastation thrown in for good measure. What’s not to love? 

Yes, sometimes I feel as if I’m flacking the live action version of the children’s book series,Captain Underpants. More like Captain Dirty Diapers. But I take heart in knowing that it’s a fabulous play and has lots of terrific singing and you know, in some ways it brings me back to the day when changing diapers with my own babies and I probably sang about wee-wee, just to keep the kids entertained. So it all comes around. 

Plus, my friend had a good point the other day.

“Hey,” she said. “At least it’s only pee! You could have been asked to publicize a production of The Vagina Monologues.”

I shrunk my favorite jeans today. They went into the laundry looking like you could slip a ’69 Buick into them, and they came out ready for consignment in Lilliputian land. So now I’m suffering from the blue jean blues.

Blue jeans are a curious thing. The right pair of jeans on the right body, and there’s no better outfit in the world. I know one woman who could be the poster child for Levi’s. Cut just right, fits her behind, wraps around her waist just so. It’s as if she was born to wear them.

Not so, me: the last time I even attempted to try on a pair of Levi’s was so humbling that I swore them off for life. By the time I found a size large enough to enable me to hoist the stiff boards of denim onto my legs and up and over my behind, the waistline could have accommodated yet another body.

There’s a certain ritual for stepping into a pair of jeans. Obviously, you step in one leg at a time. But then comes the tricky part: the left-right-left hip jiggle to jimmy the pants up and over the butt. You then grip a belt loop on either side, jump up once, and voila, you’ve got your jeans on. Next you have to straighten out the pockets: you want no lumps or bulges to betray your girlish curves. Tug down one leg, then the other, and you’re ready to roll.

So you’re taking a stroll down the street, thinking happy thoughts, and you notice for the first time in forever that your jeans actually feel loose. You can pinch an inch (of denim, not fat), and you’re thinking, WOW! I’ve done it! I’ve actually lost some weight.

Then you sit down. And suddenly the molecules in the lower half of your body redistribute so that you couldn’t feel fatter if you’d inhaled a quart of Rocky Road. Claustrophobia sets in as you realize that you’re trapped inside your favorite relaxed-fit jeans, and the fit isn’t quite so relaxed.

Washing blue jeans is another thing. I do so under duress–there have to be bloodstains or worse. But washing them just to keep them clean like you would your socks or underwear is a no-no.

For one thing, you work too hard to get your jeans to the right shade. The “oh, look who’s sporting a new pair of jeans” look finally fades, and you have a washed (well, not really, but it’s our secret) yet not too washed-out look.

Then there is that comfort factor. After you wear your unwashed jeans enough, they become mercifully forgiving, like my idea of what God is. I for one am not about to sacrifice the feeling of comfy jeans just for the sake of cleanliness.

Eventually, the time comes to wash them. The goal: avoid heat. Why? Shrinkage. If only there was an ice water setting on my washer. Gentle spin cycle is vital: you can’t have the jeans folding origami-style from a violent spin.

Then it’s into the dryer; there will be no drip drying. Because then you get stuck with Very Stiff Pants.  I use delicate air dry mode. But I swear, every time I sneak up on that dryer to ensure that no heat is being emitted during the tumble dry, I open the door and am greeted by enough hot air to make me think I’ve just been beamed into a roomful of politicians. You have to be careful with these dryers; sometimes you just can’t trust them.

 

 

 

You may be thinking that I am a prime candidate for some other kind of lower-extremity-wear. Leggings, perhaps. Maybe a long skirt. But the truth is, I like the challenge of blue jeans. They always keep you guessing. You never know if they’re gonna be kind to you, or turn on you like a jilting lover. I’ve learned that I have to stay one step ahead of my jeans, or else someday I’ll find I’m no longer in them.

authors note: Sadly I have currently fallen into disfavor with my blue jeans, but hope to be back in their good graces soon.