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While making breakfast the other day, I was thinking:

I wish they’d just cut the bagel all the way through.

Am I the only one who finds it annoying that the bagels you buy at the store aren’t cut all the way through? They’re cut mostly through, but just enough is left on both sides of each bagel that you can’t pull it apart — you need an actual knife to cut it.

WHY??

And for someone like me who is prone to cutting herself All. The. Time? It’s a problem. I mean, there are actually videos on YouTube that explain how to safely cut a bagel. Why is this necessary?? You know the safest way to cut a bagel? Have someone else cut it for me, preferably before I even buy it!

I suppose some dope somewhere was concerned about the bagels falling apart in the bags, but… who the heck cares? I need it to be apart in order to toast and eat it anyway! “It stays fresher!” I don’t need it to stay fresher because if it has enough raisins in it, I’m probably going to eat it as soon as I get home!

And while we’re on the topic of bagels, I was also thinking:

Does three raisins per bagel really constitute calling them “Cinnamon Raisin” bagels?

I love raisins. And when I make raisin bread, we’re talking close to 2 cups of raisins per loaf. So when I get up in the morning, mouth watering for raisin-filled bagels… I kinda expect to have at least one raisin in every bite. I don’t think that three raisins in a single bagel — I’m not joking!! — makes them raisin bagels.

Seriously?

(And I get extra steamed when I go to cut the stupid bagel over the sink (because I don’t want crumbs on the counter) … and one of the three raisins falls down the drain. -_-)

You know a great way to work off those uncut, non-raisin raisin bagels? Doing one of my least favourite chores — vacuuming.

But despite disliking this particular job, cleaning is something I do generally enjoy, I take very seriously, and a vacuum cleaner is a hell of a lot better than cleaning your carpets the old-fashioned way.

In the 40 minutes it takes me to vacuum the main floor area of kitchen, living room, and pantry, I find myself thinking:

Vacuum cleaner manufacturers realize that some women come taller than 5’4″, don’t they?

I’m sorry, but vacuum cleaners are apparently made for midgets. Sure, if I use my vacuum one-handed, it’s not too bad, but pushing it that way, you’re basically using the momentum of the vacuum to just glide it over the surfaces. There’s no pressure being exerted on the bar, and so you’re leaving behind a ton of sand and dirt, and whatever else people and pets have tracked into your house that’s settled deep down in the carpet or rug. (I use a canister vac, but I’ve tried the uprights too and I just can’t even with those.)

That’s what she said.

One-handed (and therefore standing upright the way I want to be), you just can’t get the same level of clean as you can when you use TWO hands — one on the handle, the other partway down the wand, giving it a little pressure, which not only picks up more dirt, but also makes the vacuum much easier to handle.

The problem is that I’m 5’9″, and in order to use the vacuum this way, I have to bend over… and stay like that… for 40 minutes.

Not cool. My back does not appreciate this unnecessary exertion. All I want is for vacuums to be made with longer wands so I don’t have to bend over. That’s it! That’s not asking for too much, is it?

Mmmm, no, I’d be happier if I just didn’t have to BEND OVER SO MUCH.

I didn’t know this was a secret, but hold onto your toupee, Donald Trump, I’m about to reveal something incredible: While there are plenty of Pixie women in the world, there are also plenty of us Amazons, so wake up and make me a vacuum cleaner that I don’t have to bend over to use!

Speaking of women and height… I’ve also been thinking a lot about jeans.

Now, I know that jeans, or pants in general, are a tough subject, especially for women who often base their desired length on what pair of shoes they’re wearing. I don’t want to be tramping on the bottoms of my pants while I walk, as if I just crawled out of a ghetto somewhere, but you know, I also don’t want to glance in that dressing room mirror and think:

I look like I’ve got water in my basement.

My ankles are my business when I’m wearing pants. When I want you to see them, I’ll wear a dress.

Today, the regular length for women’s jeans seems to be a 29″ or 30″ inseam. But there was a time when that number was 32″ or 33″. And I was happy with that. At least when I was buying them from Sears. The inside of my leg measures 31″, and that extra inch or two gets eaten up pretty quick when you take into consideration curves in your body. The 33″ inseams from Sears sometimes ran just a TAD long for me, but I almost always wear footwear with heels, so it worked out fine.

That was years ago when I was heavier and favoured a flare-leg or a boot cut. Now that I’m many pounds less, I like the option of wearing a skinny jean. In the summer, you’ll now almost always find me in a dress and heels. And in the winter, knee-high boots. I want to be able to easily tuck my pant legs into my boots, so skinnies are the way to go. But I DO sometimes wear them with sneakers, sandals, or non-boot heels too, and that means that the length is still important.

The problem is that once again, manufacturers are apparently of the opinion that women come no taller than 5’7″. And out of the literally DOZENS of pairs of jeans I have tried on in the past year, NONE of them even came close to hitting my ankle. Ankle-length would already be too short for my taste, but this is even more ridiculous. I occasionally like to wear a nice white capri pant in summer, but capris hit mid-calf — you can tell that they’re supposed to be that length. But the jeans they’re making today just plain look too short for you. I reiterate the phrase I used before: You look like there’s water in your basement.

Acceptable because you can tell they’re not meant to be full-length pants…..

No, no, no, hell no, absolutely not. Too short.

Do you know what else I think when I’m trying on these pygmy-length jeans:

Not all women are shaped like a barrel, damn it.

You’re familiar with the phrase, “Child-bearing hips”? Yeah, that’s a physical trait that’s super common in women. At least it used to be.

There are a number of basic body shapes, and I am in no way saying anything negative about any of them. What I am saying is that it’s frustrating when clothing manufacturers make clothes for ONE body type when you are another.

Clothing today, especially jeans, seems to be cut for the Apple-shaped woman. She has slim, straight hips, thinner legs, and a stocky upper torso. In short, she’s larger above the waist than below, kind of like a barrel.

I have an Hourglass shape that JUST creeps into Pear territory. So let’s describe it as having a few extra grains of sand in the bottom of my hourglass.

The issue I face with jeans or pants is that the perfect hip/thigh fit leaves me with a waistband that feels like it’s 2-3 sizes too big. Find a pair of pants that fit perfect in the waist? They’re so tight everywhere else that I can’t even sit down.

I just want a pair of jeans that fit, you know? A wider hip, a clipped-in waist, and long enough to JUST touch the floor rather than barely grazing my ankle bone. And also that don’t have so much room between the waist and the crotch to fit a banana and two tangerines down there. I mean, who am I, Bruce Jenner!?

So okay, these are all hashtag #FirstWorldProblems, I know, and I am poking a bit of fun at myself today, but be honest — that doesn’t really make these “problems” any less annoying, does it? Was my great Aunt Elsie telling me about the poor starving children in Africa really the reason I learned to clean my plate of whatever disgusting thing had been put in front of me? No. It was just my dad giving me “The Look” across the table. If you had a good father too, then you know the look I’m talking about. The one that said:

Test me at your own peril — you know how to behave… act like it or I’ll remind you in front of everyone.

Yep, my dad could say more with that one look than he could with 200 words.

You’d better believe that every time my dad gave me The Look, what I thought then was:

Is what I’m doing really worth getting spanked for…?
NOPE.

And that was good thinking.