So, it was one of those days.

There are just some days where I just…I don’t know, I struggle.  That time I called the sex line instead of the Spanish interpreter/language services.  That time I emailed an HR rep and apologized for the “constipation” instead of the “inconvenience”.  That time as I child I slid down a pile of gravel and ripped the back of my neon pants open (it was the 90s, don’t pretend like you weren’t wearing neon pants too).

This weekend started out with an experiment of sorts: I bought clinical strength deodorant.  I know, that’s really random.  But, look, I’m cute and pretend to be glamorous, but I have rank underarms.  It started after Older Child was born.  Evidently, I turned into The Hubs because after Older Child was born, all I did was sweat, eat steak, and drink beer.

I’m a glam-azon.  Whatev.

So a fancy pants display (and when I say fancy pants display, what I mean is a sale sticker hanging off the shelf) distracted me at Target and, next thing I know, I’m buying a seven dollar squat container of deodorant.  It promised to be summer fresh and would…I don’t know, make me smell less like I just got finished working in the mines and instead was an elegant author.  You know, like Meryl Streep in She-Devil.

My main concern was that it would melt my arms off or something.

I had to go to an offsite meeting Thursday, so I starting packing up my gear about twenty minutes before I had to leave.  That gave me time to pee and fix my eyeliner.  So, I shoved my phone into my back pocket and headed off to the bathroom.  Makeup fixed, hair brushed, and then….I went to pee.

The next thing I remember is the horrifying plop! splash! sound from behind me.  The cold fist of fear stilled my heart (no, really, that’s the nice way of saying a hissed “fuck me”) and I straightened, turned, and saw….you guess it, my damn iPhone just chilling in the bottom of the toilet.

Here’s the first thing that came to mind:

• Oh shit!

Here’s the second thing that came to mind:

• Get it!

So, yeah, I pulled it out of the toilet and dried it off.  I stared at it.  Now what?  What happens when you drop your phone in water?  I mean, is it at this point now a total loss?  Should I just head to my meeting and then to the phone store?  Most importantly, how can I live without my phone?

Well, as legit as these questions were, I had to get to my meeting.  So, I threw my phone into a baggie filled with like, a third way up with rice.  It was not awesome.

But the phone still works.

Hey, I’m not asking questions.  I pried the side of the phone open later and the sim card was dry.  This seems good.  The camera?  Still works.  Touchscreen?  Still works.  Music?  Good and loud.  So, thus far, the phone has survived its first (and hopefully only) dip in the toilet.  I’m so clumsy.

But not so clumsy I can’t dance!  My BFF Rachel Elise got married yesterday, in a gorgeous ceremony.  I’m five years older than Rachel (I remember visiting her mom in the hospital after she was born.  Her mom gave me a pink bubble gum cigar) and we grew up together.  The groomsman I was paired up with was her cousin Christopher and I’ve also known him his whole life.  Christopher is my kind of guy: he breaks out into song.  He dances at a moments notice.

We dubbed ourselves The Fun Couple.

When it was time to walk in and be announced, we actually weren’t sure what music we were dancing in to—so, we discussed dance options.  Because dancing is always an option.  We’d settled on possibilities of disco, jazz hands, and spirit fingers.

And then we got to dance in to Glenn Miller’s In the Mood.  Sing, Sing, Sing.  Whatever you want to call it: check us out.  We danced and jived our way into the 1800s barn that the wedding was in like the pros we are (okay, that he is.  He’s going to school for music; I’m just weird).  We danced and sang the entire night away.  I’m so happy for the adorable couple!  Shut up and dance with me.

Of note, the clinical strength deodorant did not hold up like I’d hoped.  I applied before the salon appointment and after.  By the time Cute Groomsman Levi asked me to dance, I smelled like armpit.  Gross.  Gross!!!  I’m seriously ready to just start wearing a fanny pack and carrying deodorant with me all the time.  Is that deodorant in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

Glamorous.  Always glamorous and sophisticated.