am i alone in relating to april in revolutionary road?

All day long, I've been asking myself "should plodders be allowed to run in marathons?"

Random:

My friend Meg and her husband having a saying that something/someone that "puts ants on me" meaning that the something/someone gives them a creepy, tingly feeling.

Clip-on earrings remind me of Aunt Sally.

FOMJ = Fear of Mom Jeans

Last night, I watched Mr. Smith Goes to Washington with my Dad – do you remember that one? – made in 1939 – political party bosses and big business are controlling the government (sounds familiar) and naïve, innocent, patriotic Jimmy Stewart sets them straight. I have fantasies that Barack Obama will turn out to be Mr. Smith, but I think until we have term limits for Congress, Mr. Smith will be shutdown by the lobbyists.

Did you ever buy yourself a funky new sweater and when you tried it on in the store you thought "I look pretty good and kinda groovy" and then when you actually wore it the next day you caught a glimpse of your relflection in a store window and you realized that you were dead wrong?


photo courtesy of www.declubz.com

Last night, I did something weird, but I'm not ready to write about it. For now let me just say it involved $10,000 and a district court judge.

However, here is something I wrote this summer, and while writing it, I felt very cool and insightful, like my friend Colleen from college, who wore funky sweaters, smoked incessantly and wrote in a diary every day. Note the very cool way I used only lowercase letters and minimal punctuation.

summer boys

god i wish i was a writer so that i could capture this time in words, the boys of summer are on my back porch shouting beer pong scores, saying fuck with abandon, never happy enough with the music selection to let the entire song play, no longer sneaking beers but joking with me about the fact that tonight they are drinking pete’s beer and he’s not here to know it, they were on the ball field last night organizing capture the flag for the children they once were, holding on tight to these summer days, knowing that soon they will visit for just a week or so each summer, and i thought there were no girls but just now 4 very pretty girls arrived and my son said “hi girls” in a smug but charming way, it turns out that my son is charming

My friend Besty is haunted by produce. She exemplifies the reason I fear signing up for a farm share. I would be in a constant state of worry over how to prepare the volumes of kale, eggplant and cabbage that would multiply in the drawers and corners of my refrigerator. I would get sick over the rot of uneaten lettuces. I would be secretly leaving weirdly shaped squash on neighbors' doorsteps. I would dread the looks from my family as I set before them another goulash, soup or stew made from the bounty.

picture courtesy of http://www.theodoresworld.net

The medical profession and media need to do a better job of informing the public about pre-exisiting/separate medical conditions and possible allegic reactions to anti-biotics when reporting swine flu deaths. Not providing that information only increases the panic level. Apparently the students who died at Cornell and Miami had pre-existing conditions which made them more likely to develop severe complications from H1N1, but there has been little or no reporting on this.

LaRouche supporters - they are young, inflammatory, and scary as hell.

1-1

Keep in mind that daily I drink at least one Starbucks tall coffee, not a fufu drink, just real coffee with a bit of half and half. It is my heroin, my adderall.

That said, I report somewhat shamefully that my record in taste-testing Starbucks Via instant coffee is 1-1.

I oozed smugness when yesterday at the Quincy store, I correctly picked the instant coffee within seconds, sure that the doe-eyed goth girl behind the counter was impressed.

Then about 45 minutes ago at the Norwell store, I thought I would show off my tasting skill once more (and also score another coupon for free coffee). Pretending that I had not yet done the taste test, and also asking with disdain something like "whhyyy is Starbucks selling instant coffee?"*, I bellied up to the counter.

As if I was a somalier in Napa Valley procuring wines for a Saudi prince, I tasted the first of the coffees the confident barrista poured into 2 small paper cups. Without hesitation and before tasting the second, I said "this is the real stuff". My hostess smiled the smile of victory and announced my failure. I tasted from the second cup, then tried the first once more. I stammered a loser's stammer and said that I wanted to try a hit of the real thing right from the fresh brewed spigget, hoping that she has mistakenly switched the coffees. She cheerily accomodated me. I sipped the fresh brew. Sigh, I had in fact called instant coffee the real thing. I congratulated her and left the store with my imaginary tail between my legs.

The taste test challenge is over today. Can I let my record hold at 1-1? Stay tuned.

* the response was the hypothetical suggestion that I might be on a camping trip with no Starbucks in range and desparate for their coffee (is it possible not to be in range of a Starbucks?)

P.S. Please do not read my Oct. 3 blog wherein I haughtily mention my embarrassment on behalf of Starbucks for selling instant coffee.

In the locker room a few days ago, I observed a smiling, young woman with Down Syndrome stepping on the scale to weigh herself. I guess she probably weighed about 130. She moved the sliding piece back and forth for a few seconds before saying to herself "104-good job!" At first I felt superior, then fortunate, then jealous.

While out in the rain, removing the moss from between the patio pavers (an annual and soothingly repetitive chore), I had these random thoughts:

- Whoever you are,wherever you are from, if you send me a hand-written thank you note, I like you.

- What is Ruth Madoff doing right this minute?

- Did Stephanie Birkitt want to have Dave Letterman's baby?

- I once (or twice) told my daughter to marry for money, and then retracted my statement (sort of).

- Why is Starbucks selling instant coffee? I am embarrassed for them.

- For Christmas, I would like a power washer, a Le Creuset 5 1/2 qt. round dutch oven and a Cole Haan bag.

- If I could have lunch with any New York Times writer, I think I would pick Gail Collins.