The mirror in my office bathroom is by far the most unattractive place to ever view yourself. Upon walking in, you’re met with a frightening facsimile of yourself, looking orange and greasy and blemish-full, even on a day when (as a lovely surprise) your skin is looking quite smooth and blemish-free. (It’s karma getting me back from the travesty that was the breakout during Ali’s wedding.) It’s unavoidable – the mirror spans a wall and it’s not like you can wash your hands (or, in my case, your hand), with your eyes shut. Instead of the dashing young lass, clad in newly-dry-cleaned black linen pants (who said linen is for summer only?) and adorable Halloween-y shirt from Target, complete with the oh-so-chic mainstay of a jean jacket, I get a neophyte-looking gal with hair awry, skin the color of a clementine – a prime candidate for the “Clean & Clear Pore Strips” ad. The unfairness of it all…

While we’re on the topic of bathrooms, am I the only person who has a favorite stall? I get very irked if someone is occupying the stall directly ahead of me when I make my sojourn to the potty. Apparently, I’m quite anal. (Pun intended.)

Enough toilet-talk…let’s discuss elevators. I’ve pondered Elevator etiquette in the past, a poorly timed post that seemed trilly and trite and so innocent when the next day our very reality changed forever. Yet, praying that history doesn’t repeat itself, I again return to the topic with a few new thoughts. Every weekday morning I stroll, quasi-laxidasically, quasi-somnabulistally, into our office, a few minutes before 9, and unless we have a visitor in our office, I can almost assure you that I’m in business-cas attire. Granted, every now and again I throw on a cute skirt, put in my contacts and even – lo and behold – some makeup, but most days you’ll find Aubrey au natural. And, as such, I invariably end up in the elevator with the someone in the Antithesis of Aubrey Attire; i.e., dressed up full business garb. As our building also holds some very traditional companies (insurance & law firms to name a few), this isn’t necessarily that shocking. Yet every time I end up in mixed-attired company, I feel like I can read their inner dialogue, and yes, I really AM that young whippersnapper with no respect for company values and with a shitty work ethic. All because I have a predilection for my Paper Denim & Cloth (ostentatiously overpriced) jeans. What is the world coming to?

Speaking of what this world is coming to, apparently, it’s this. Please note the oh-so captivating section on her hair. Who knew that Biosilk could change the world?

And one last thought before I leave you. It’s amazing what one can do with a little Revlon Colorstay eyeliner and a picture of Eve…