The Bathtub

Too Much Information: Final Thoughts Before We Drain the Tub

Merry Christmas!  If you happen to be reading this post today, it's probably because you're Jewish.  I'll keep it brief so you can get back to your Chinese takeout food.

Theme for the Week of 12/17: Books

I don't know why I chose 'Books' for this week's theme.  Maybe it's because I've been trying to read more lately.  Maybe it's because of Oprah.  Maybe it's because the Bathtub is ending in two short weeks and I want everyone to start focusing on alternate forms of media consumption.

Either way, tubbers, take this chance to review books, judge them by their covers, extoll the virtues of literacy, or try to eat them and then photograph the results.  Whatever--just stay relevant.

Too Much Information: Are You Concerted?

Just like Hallmark commercials and sample sales, ADD is something that women experience differently than men do.  Women are less likely to be hyperactive, and their symptoms are more often mistaken for depression or just plain ditzyness.  I myself was not diagnosed with ADD until I was midway through college, but boy, was it a big "A-ha!" moment for my family.  ADD explains many things--the disorganization; the messiness; the not having a sense of direction; the fact that even though I was a total dork who loved school, I never studied . . . all textbook manifestations of ADD in females.

However varied the symptoms may be in boys and girls, though, the treatment for ADD is the same: stimulants!

Too Much Information: Confessions of a Youth Basketball Referee

It's basketball season again, which means I will be spending my Saturday mornings calling the shots at girls' basketball games.  For the most part I love doing this, because kids, basketball, and rules are three of my favorite things on earth.  However, I do have a few gripes--and yes, I do pick favorites.  I try to keep things even, but there are a few things coaches and parents do that are guaranteed to make me root against their little kiddies.  After the jump, a list of helpful tips you may want to follow if you ever find yourself coaching youth sports, or just parenting someone who plays them.

Too Much Information: Happy ChrismaHannaKwanzaaBathtubPartyDeadWhaleRedAppleDay

In March of 2006 I created a blog project for myself wherein I tried to observe all of the bizarre minor holidays I could find that month, like National Frozen Food Day, National Pet Sitter's Month, and National Waffle Day.  For today's post, I decided to highlight some of the lesser-known December holidays in advance; this way, when someone wishes you "Happy Holidays" next month, you can know that it includes, among other things, National Bicarbonate of Soda Day.

I will start off with what is clearly the most exciting holiday I found, one that the members of this blog will be very excited to hear about . . .

Too Much Information: I Got Out Just In Time

Much as I love the Internet, I can't help but look back at High School Lauren and think, wow--she got out just in time.  The reason I think this is because I know I would have been addicted to MySpace and Facebook, which fortunately didn't become a reality for me until I was in college and my senses of discipline and ambition had already disappeared.

Too Much Information: Dolls!

When I was a kid, I loved dolls--and back in the '80s, dolls had jobs to do.  Some could eat food and poop it out, others could grow their hair if your cranked their arms.  Today, I will recall a few personal favorites.

Too Much Information: Dictator, or Regular Guy?

My sophomore year of college, I was taking a current events quiz in Journalism.  This particular teacher was fond of "picture questions," and so this quiz showed four grainy, black and white headshots and asked us to circle the Secretary of Something Fairly Common But I Forget Exactly What.  I had no idea, so I just chose the smiling man with the jaunty hat.  He looked nice enough.

Well, turns out the nice man I circled was none other than Saddam Hussein.  They probably should not have let me stay in Journalism school after that.

That was bad, but in perusing a magazine article about the worst dictators recently, I was struck by how many of them looked like they could have been a friendly uncle or 12th-grade history teacher.  Some of them, like Bashar Al-Assad (right), even look kind of like Steve Carrell.  So before you judge me, I challenge you to take the following quiz, "Dictator or Regular Guy," and see how you do.

Too Much Information: Fear of Pop

First of all, a note about my song selection: I don't really have a favorite Ben Folds song, and I don't think I've ever even heard this particular one, but I'm interpreting "My Favorite Song By Ben Folds" as an abbreviation of the real theme, "My Favorite Song by Ben Folds, Based on That Song's Ability to Give Me an Idea for Something to Write About This Week."  If you think that's cheating, then maybe you should know that Ben Folds also has a song called "Dog," a song that would have been a perfect excuse to post more pictures of my puppy, which I am ignoring despite the fact that I have many cute puppy pictures to share, so in reality you should probably be pretty impressed with my restraint.

Now, on to my post.

Too Much Information: I Told You a Post Was Coming!

Sorry I'm a bit late, and thanks to D.C. for receiving my urgent "WAITING FOR VERIZON TECH PLS POST 4 ME KTHXBAI" text message and alerting the masses.  My new house is finally connected to the Internet, and this post is officially the first thing I'm sending out over those fresh new lines and into the great, wide world--although that shouldn't fool you into thinking it's going to be extra-good, or any good at all.  After the jump, I invent myself a brand new family composed entirely of sitcom characters.