It must have been my lucky day.
First, I stepped in pink bubble gum carelessly discarded on the sidewalk.
Then, a bird shat on me.
Now, really, what are the odds of those two things happening within two hours of each other?
I should have found myself a poker game.
Friday, August 31, 2007
It must have been my lucky day.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
The word was in my mind all day, and then a dear friend wrote about it. Mediocrity.
Like taunting from playground bullies, it’s an insult that sticks.
The poisoned thought echoes in my head, “I am so mediocre.”
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
I work in an office with very well maintained air conditioning.
In fact, despite the 100-degree weather, I brought a sweater to work today and wore it.
My husband is not so lucky. He works from home sans A/C.
Hence, this note in my inbox with the subject line HOT:
“My sweat is drying faster than it is produced. My saliva dries before I can lick a juice pop. I look like I am laughing. I’m actually crying, but my tears are drying on the vine.”
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
There is a shortage of spoons in my house. Or so I thought.
Actually, the problem is not with supply but demand.
For the 17 dirty spoons currently in my kitchen, there is one used fork.
Why? Because forks are only needed for eating real, good-for-you meals, and my husband and I get by on an incredible amount of finger food.
Spoons, on the other hand, are essential for eating almost anything fun.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Just call me your colonoscopy go-to girl.
I am ready to answer questions about everyone’s favorite (yet taboo) medical procedure.
From the 64 ounces of MoviPrep to the very intimate photo shoot to the recovery in the music room, as clear as my sedated mind can remember it, I know it all.
Although, I do feel this information is best shared on a need-to-know basis over private, one-on-one telephone conversations.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
I spent the day at home, watching a combination of brainless TV and news reports.
Sometimes the two were one in the same. Sometimes they were not.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
I don’t blame men for not understanding women.
For crying out loud, if you get us alone together with a bride-to-be, we dress each other up in wedding gowns made of toilet paper.
Then, when one of our friends is anticipating childbirth, we spend the afternoon playing, “Guess what’s in the diaper.”
Friday, August 24, 2007
I got all excited about being caffeine-free for a whole eight days that I became quite certain the symptoms of withdrawal were three days behind me.
Right after I declared this, I felt the pressure of my head closing in on itself and sleepiness so strong I wanted to fall into a coma.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
The concept is so simple and yet so brilliant.
Don’t park your car. Instead, feed the meter, and transform the parking space into an actual park (at least for a few hours).
I read about PARK(ing) Day in 2005 and was instantly wowed by it.
What can I say, it’s the sort of grassroots effort that makes me happy.
And it’s coming to a city near you September 21.
Want to know more?
Watch this video: http://www.rebargroup.org/projects/parkingday/trailer/
Read this blog: http://www.superherodesigns.com/journal/archives/001124.html
Visit this site: http://www.parkingday.org/
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
The grocery store clerk was obviously under the legal drinking age, so I wasn’t surprised when his coworkers teased him about having to go back to school soon.
“Don’t remind me,” he said smiling.
“So, where do you go to school,” I asked, as he rang up my bottled water and candy.
“That’s cool,” I said.
“What about you?”
Startled by the question, I briefly forgot how to speak.
“I’m done with school.”
“Oh. That must feel good.”
Yes. Almost as good as being mistaken for a college student.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
I drove by some teenage boys on my way home from work. They were hanging out on the sidewalk not far from where I live.
Blue jeans, messy hair, skateboard. Not a threat. Not an annoyance. Just kids.
Then I saw the cardboard sign, and my heart sank.
“They can’t possibly be homeless,” I thought, wondering which humanitarian organization I might contact on their behalf.
Then I got close enough to read the sign: “Will work for weed.”
Monday, August 20, 2007
It’s been a few days, and the wrinkles are less noticeable.
Not because they are gone, but because this powerful serum has created a distraction, drawing onlookers’ attention away from the crows and to the patches of redness under my eyes.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
My husband has an alter ego.
It appears at the grocery store whenever some 80’s tune plays through the sound system.
His quiet guy persona disappears, the lip-synching begins and, before you know it, Supermarket Superstar has taken over.
I swoon every time.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
I’ve been harboring bad feelings for months about a woman I hardly know and never see.
Still, from my limited contact, I believed her to be awful.
Tonight, I found out I was wrong.
She’ll never know my original impression or that I changed my mind.
But I’m reminded that even more often than saying something about someone I shouldn’t, I think it.
Friday, August 17, 2007
I’ve never understood the standing-in-front-of-everyone-naked nightmare often referenced in movies and sitcoms.
When I was a kid, I thought I wasn’t old enough to get the joke. But I’ve never caught on.
One of my most anxiety-producing dreams (one never mentioned in movies or sitcoms) involves my teeth falling out.
For a long time, I assumed the vision was either a premonition or post-traumatic stress from spending five of my teenage years in braces.
Then a woman I worked with in Arizona told me the dream meant I had said something about someone I probably shouldn’t have.
That explained a lot.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
I spent $22.72 tonight for deep wrinkle serum that promises visibly reduced crow’s feet in eight weeks.
I’m really not one for beauty regimens, but I washed my face and applied the lotion as soon as I got home from the store.
The impact was not immediate. Or as my husband would say, the crows are still roosting.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
There was talk about the serpent and the woman and her baby.
But as we celebrated one miracle, while asking for many more, what I heard was this:
“To say that it is bad is to tell the truth. To say that it is hopeless is to lose sight of Mary.”
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
In case you were expecting something deeper, with more meaning or wisdom, let me explain.
Some people write because they have something to say.
I write in preparation for the day when I have something to say.
That way, when the time comes, I’ll be ready to say it.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Like every college paper I ever wrote, I’m asking for an extension on the one titled, “How I Spent My Summer Vacation.”
In the meantime, let me tell you about my culinary adventure into the world of green smoothies.
These drinkable concoctions are 60 to 80 percent fruit, 20 to 40 percent green leafy vegetable, such as spinach or kale.
Start with a cup of cold water. Bananas and sweet apples are good for the base.
Then add any crazy combination of fruit and vegetable you can imagine.
A blender is required, which, lucky for me, is the one piece of kitchen machinery I feel confident using thanks to a short stint working at a juice bar a million years ago.
Best Friend With Four Kids read about green smoothies in a book and started making them for her family.
She was so beside herself by today’s blend she wrote me a quick email:
“The smoothie I just made ... let me just say that if people have found it difficult to drink a green smoothie, I think the one I just made would scare them to the hills — it's BROWN. And I mean, BROWN. Honestly, and for lack of a better description, it looks like I'm drinking a mug of diarrhea. It looks NASTY. However, it is quite delicious tasting though even I was somewhat apprehensive. I wish I had a picture. Your dad would DIE.”
OK. Maybe not the best advertisement, but they really are good.
Friday, August 3, 2007
To my five faithful readers:
I’m crossing county and state lines for a family vacation that will include a 13-hour drive one way, my parents, my two brothers, my sister, one aunt, one uncle and two cousins in addition to my husband and me.
Expect me back in 10 days.
Thursday, August 2, 2007
“Your grandma called today,” my husband said.
“What did she want?”
“She wanted me to tell you that West Nile has been detected in Los Gatos and to be wary of mosquitoes. She also wanted me to tell you that even though West Nile has not be detected in her area yet, she trapped a mosquito and kept it from coming into her house.”
This is the kind of speedy-quick news delivery system I grew up with.
My compulsion to relay information is, quite possibly, genetic. And occasionally, it’s actually useful.
During the national spinach scare last summer, I single-handedly warned several friends and two of my siblings of the pending danger.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
“Can you believe we waited so long to do this?” she said, giddy about our new treasure. “We could have had our own secret society years ago.”