Post-it in the fridge.

My dad is a people person. You can bring him into any social situation and he will be able to: 1) carry a conversation 2) instantly make a handful of new friends 3) leave everyone laughing.

He’s a good guy & a wonderful dad – I really lucked out.

So I’m chatting with him about my god awful ordeal that happened last week :

Right before I went up to present a 2 hour training to a room full of people I decided to go to the bathroom. (I thought that was a good call, right?) WRONG.

Don’t be alarmed. It’s not what you’re thinking.  It’s probably worse.

My fly came apart. The whole thing, it just fell apart. The actual part you zip up and down was in my hand. I was staring at it, examining it for a minute – how could this happen?  This particular day I also decided to wear my throw back 8^th grade graduation shirt from 2001 that has shrunk a great deal overtime, leaving the bottom of it laying right above my fly – what luck do I have. After freaking out for about 15 minutes I was able to get a sweater from a friend which buttoned at the bottom and covered the area if I hunched my back over in a certain way.

I facilitated looking like the hunch back of Notre Dame. It was fine, I survived.

So I tell my dad this,  he's laughing and then he gets a big grin on his face; "Mal, I have a story for you, you’re gunna die."

 So here is my dad’s tale, as he would tell it (or as close as I can):

“So I was spending way too much money on lunch every week, so I decided to go to the grocery store and stock up on some ingredients that I could make lunch with. I bought bagels, ham, lettuce and tomatoes - the works. I woke up extra early to make this delectable bagel sandwich for lunch. It was HUGE. I put it into a zippy, put it in my bag and went to work. I got there at about 6am and I realized, I probably shouldn’t leave it out, I should defiantly refrigerate it. I opened the work fridge and neatly placed my sandwich bagel with all the other lunchboxes.

I dreamed about eating lunch the whole day. Once 11:30 rolled around I opened the fridge ….but something was TERRIBLY wrong: my sandwich was not where I left it. I took everything out of the fridge - - IT WASN'T THERE! I was FUMING mad. I put it in a CLEAR Zippy Bag! Someone did this on purpose, knowing that it was someone else’s sandwich: it could NOT have been a mistake. Can you even BELIEVE someone would do that? “– My dad (ish)

My reaction: Are you shitting me! This is just plain evil. Someone saw that sandwich, snatched it up and indulged. How rude! My dad even went to the lengths the next day to put a post-it in the fridge that read: “Missing sandwich”. Just so the schmuck KNOWS that he KNOWS. He’s also been spreading this story around like wildfire at work hoping that the ass overhears the story and feels like an ass.

What would you do? This was a suggestion from my dad’s friend: Make the same sandwich and put laxative in it, then you will surely know who the culprit is.

Who knew people went to such lengths to eat lunch? And who knew that flies CAN indeed just fall apart?

AH, the mysteries of life.

Steady as the Aggro Crag

I have never smelt anything worse in my entire life. I have encountered dog shit, hockey bags, rotten milk and cat urine among other disgusting, god awful smells but this smell was like no other. This smell was 100% repulsive and unforgettable.

It was The Day of Smell. It was a Tuesday. And for some reason I found my nose taking over.

1) I bought new oatmeal. It’s called cinnamon roll, I bought it for obvious reasons.  I want to eat cinnamon rolls every single day, but I would be a house, so I figured I would trick my body by getting oatmeal that slightly resembles a delectable roll of cinnamon. I warmed it up and then I opened the microwave. Instantly a heat wave of cinnamon goodness hit me like those bricks that hit Harry & Marv in Home Alone 1. POW. I was so psyched. I sat down with my pretend cinnamon roll and ate every morsel of it. With each lift of the spoon the overwhelming smell of its spices and warmth intoxicated me. (I closed my eyes and I was at my house sitting at my old kitchen table with the old country light swinging over my head. It was winter and snowing outside and I was wearing slippers.) This cinnamon roll oatmeal took me for a ride. And it was only 8am.

2) Coconut Tropical Oasis. That is how I would describe this body lotion that a co-worker has. I used it and I smelled like a Pina- Colada all day. Loved it. (If I closed my eyes this smell would take me to a beach in California, I had just finished rollerblading along the board walk in a sweet 80's oufit.)

3) Macaroni & Cheese makes me so happy. There are so many happy moments in my life that have included this food, so when I saw my co-worker walk by with a bowl and the cheesy goodness hit my nose  a strong case of nostalgia crept up.  Mac & Cheese and I go way back. I’m talking like circa 1994. (I smell that mac & cheese and I go right back to pink stretchy pants and my bright red headband that had sharp plastic teeth that hurt my head but I would wear it because I loved it so much.) You see, this was the meal that my dad would make me when he was in charge. One time, I walked downstairs, smelt the mac & cheese, ran into the kitchen, saw he was cooking it and started jumping up and down. I then decided to use the counter as a prop so I could propel my jumps higher. I put my hands on the counter and whaled my head upwards while I jumped and then I nailed my head on the corner of a cabinet. The end result of this concluded with a bleeding head, but a very happy stomach. Just a month ago at my house my dad put on a taste test between Kraft Macaroni & Cheese VS. Wegman’s Brand (Weggys.) Obviously the outcome resulted with Kraft, because it is the cheesiest. If I could, I would marry Kraft Mac & Cheese.

4) I walked into the house to some more news that was related to smell. Kato informed me that we have a skunk living under our porch. She saw him. He was walking around. He has a hole he lives in. Well, that’s not good. They smell. They smell real bad. (So, if anyone has any ideas about how to get rid of skunks please contact me.) So far the following ideas have been presented: a boom box will frighten him, ammonia or other perfumes with repulse him, make a trap? Any suggestions will be greatly appreciated. I don’t want to be sprayed because then I will smell, real bad.

5) After hearing about the skunk I went to the gym. I wanted to get my 3 miles in, clear my mind, get in the zone - all that jazz. I enter the gym, ah, standard gym. If this gym were in a movie it would be in Mean Girls or Clueless or some teen movie where girls gather in groups to chat about Leonardo DiCaprio (is he still around, that’s who I think of when I think of hunky men, he was so good in Titanic.) Anyways, I enter the pop infected gym and make my way to the back to the treadmill’s (or hamster wheels as I call them.) Unfortunately I had to wait for one of these machines to open up; it was prime Treddy time, 7pm. I stood there clutching my bright blue inhaler and my new small gym towel. I love my gym towel. I’m standing there listening to Tag Team’s “Whooomp There It Is” when the nice women in the pink jumpsuit points to a treadmill opening up, I wave to her and jump dance to the open wheel.  I set up shop. This means I place my huge inhaler in the circle and place my towel over the screen in front of my face so I don’t have to see my reflection bob up and down for the next hour.  Excellent, things are going swimmingly. There’s an older lady to my right and a guy my age who is an Arm Swinger to my left (this means he swings his arms really high when running). Both seem like great people. I put my speed to the appropriate level and I’m off.

Steady as the Aggro Crag I am busting through the first mile, I feel like I am on Global Guts as DJ E-Z Rock comes on and is singing Joy & Pain,  this is perfection. There WAS so much joy, but as my high Arm Swinger stopped his treadmill that pain was about to set in. Arm Swinger leaves and this New Guy comes over. New Guy was not even to the treadmill and I could smell him. I can’t even describe this stench. This is my best go at it: imagine rotten bananas, rotting meat and some sort of dead animal carcass mixed with rotten milk now imagine that it’s all warm – I think that was the worst part, warm air is gross.

 It was so bad that I tried holding my breath at one point, I even tried to smell my arm in hopes that the coconut lotion would help. I was running so close to the women to my right that I nearly fell off the treadmill numerous times. I even tried to huff my towel. Since it was clean it had a lovely reminisce of Tides: “Febreze Sport” on it, it smelled fantastic. I tried blocking my nose too. Nothing worked. I was one mile in and I had to finish my three miles. I had to. I couldn’t switch now. I was there first. So I had to endure it. Luckily for me I out ran the New Guy. He left after I finished mile 2.

The next guy was wearing a complete black sweat suit and he ran with his hood on. I liked him, we were going at a similar pace and he smelled like cigarettes. Cigarettes remind me of my friends so I felt comfortable with black sweat suit, I respected him. I ran my last mile with him and gathered my belongings. I felt like I had been to hell and back through that run, like I had passed some kind of torturous social experiment.

I called my cousin as soon as I left to fill her in on this smell I encountered. I wish I could have captured some of its essence in a jar. I would wrap it up and send it to someone who really pissed me off. It would be the ultimate revenge. Cause let me tell you, I will never ever forget that smell.

So everyone remember, I don’t care if you shower or not, do what you do, wear deodorant or don’t, I am open to whatever, but please do not go to a small closed in facility and expose your bodily scents to others at such close quarters where this is warm recycled air. Just try not to. That’s all I ask.

And for everyone else going to the gym, my suggestion would be to get a gym towel and make sure you use Tides: “Febreze Sport”, I swear it saved my life.  (Literally, if I closed my eyes and smelled Tides: “Febreze Sport” I would be laying in the special field in Twilight with Edward Cullin with thousands of flowers blooming around us and small cute puppies everywhere. Yes it’s that good.)

I’m stuck in the middle with Bob Marley singing “Could you be loved?”

I miss working with kids on Valentine's Day, it's way more fun.


A 5^th grader told me last year: “Have you ever heard the song “Fireworks” by Katy Perry Mal? I swear that song can cure depression.”

Another 5^th grader was in shock when I told her I wasn’t married “But Mal YOU’RE OLD and you’re lying to everyone in the world because you have a ring on!”

I would even receive left over valentines that the kids didn’t want because “Gross Jimmy” gave it to her or “Suzy has cooties.”

There would also be a sweet craft project that usually involved a lot of glitter, red hearts and we could use the Mr. Sketch pack of markers because it was a special day.

Youth have a brilliant and blunt way of saying things. They are honest and truthful. I admire that about them. So here are some messages and reminders from a younger me. My Valentines note to myself (that I’m sharing with you.):

I used to wait around the radio when I was in 5^th grade all day with a cassette tape in ready to press record when Macy Grays “I try to walk away” song came on.*Remember to be patient

On New Year’s Eve 2005 I wrote myself this note:  “Dear me, once you start focusing on what’s important things will start to get better. Dwell on the good, let the bad go. Remember to breathe, relax, and listen to Neil Young. ” (I must have really been into Neil at this time haha)

In 8^th grade some friends & I made up an elaborate dance routine to “I will survive” and we wore glitter shirts with metal hoops around our necks and preformed it in front of our whole grade. *Try new things, don't be afraid

In 5^th grade I traveled to Florida with my soccer team and I wrote my Will (should this be capitalized? Is this how you spell it?) on the plane on the way there because I thought that if the plane crashed someone would retrieve it. Some things on the Will included things like: Justin Timberlake is my favorite *Nsync member, Papoose Pond is where I want to be buried, Soccer is awesome and I love my cousins. *All of this is still true. (Ok, maybe not at Papoose Pond….well, maybe!)

On September 9^th 2011 I wrote: “People with dancing heads on the T, I want to bob my head with you, too” I also wrote on that same day “ Chinese language being spoken to the left of me, Spanish spoken to my right, I’m stuck in the middle with Bob Marley singing “Could you be loved?” * I secretly wish you could join in with anyone who is dancing or singing and it would be perfectly acceptable in society. I also wish I knew how to speak Chinese, Spanish and kept learning more Sign Language, maybe I will someday? *Set goals. 

In 5^th grade I asked my teacher if I could build a fort in the back of the room to do work there, she said yes. I brought in sheets and used those extra big books as walls and created the most magnificent work area. *My mom has always told me “If you don’t ask, it’s a no.” I live by this.

I wrote this note on January 2, 2007: I like: people who sing out loud & whistle, sitting in the camper listening to the rain hit the canvas, walking at night in the summer, smiling at strangers, running in the woods. *Remember to look at the view young lady, look at the view.

In 5^th grade I still had art, gym and music class. I miss these classes. Today if I could I would take an hour to make Valentines for all my friends with glitter and special markers and stickers! I would run my 3 miles outside in the daylight and not on a treadmill at night. I would tone it down after my run and listen to Paul Simon while lying in bed just closing my eyes. *Remember to take time to do things you used to love doing, make time for yourself.

In 5^th grade a teacher told me I was stupid. I will never forget that day. I believed him for a long time. Remember to think before you say things to people: especially to youth. *Don’t use words carelessly they can never be retrieved.

 On May 5^th, 2008 I wrote myself this note:  “Today was the first time in a long time I was able to sleep in and I had every intention to do that until Cody woke me up. (Cody was my dog) This was a special treat considering Cody never steps foot into my room. So we went downstairs and made tea and Cody and I sat on the porch just watching as the world around us woke up. Birds chirping, insects buzzing and the faint sound of cars moving. I felt at peace.” *Remember to appreciate being happy.

I will leave you with this:

Sitting around the campfire with my family is my favorite thing to do. Last summer my aunt asked “What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to you” as a prompt for everyone. This is the story I shared:

I was in middle school, maybe 8th grade. I played soccer night and day, it was my thing, I loved it. My team was awesome, we were in our prime. We had braces, were into boy bands and on the brink of entering High School, yikes! 

^{One morning I realized I was running  late so I jumped out of bed and into my sweatpant warm ups, right where I had left them after my game the night before. I jumped into the car and I was on my way.}

I got to the indoor facility and pulled off my sweatpants and started practicing with everyone. We were most likely bumping some Nelly “Country Grammar” when the ref blew the whistle and the game was about to start. We all grabbed our stuff and threw it over the edge and the game was on.

 I was into it: moving, weaving, kicking….until the whistle blew again. We all looked at the ref; he was walking towards something on the field… THEY WERE UNDIES. Oh my god…. THEY.. WERE.. MY.. UNDIES. See what happened was: when I got home from my night game and jumped out of my sweats and into the shower….my undies were stuck in the sweatpants. GREAT GRAND WONDERFUL! Oh my god, I was MORTIFIED! The place was erupting with laughter – I HAD to play along! “HAHAHAHAH EWWW” The ref had to walk over with a plastic bag scoop them up and throw them into the trash. No one admitted to them being theirs. It wasn’t until years later that I admitted to this deed. Yes, those were my undies on the soccer field, yes, yes they were. *The most wasted of all days is one without laughter

Always remember: "You're never too old to become younger" and you can learn something from talking to youth. Listen to their perspectives and try to remember what yours used to be....they might help you now.