Random thoughts and observations after returning from my morning walk today (which is saying quite a bit considering I wasn’t thrilled with the idea to begin with…):
1. Holding my coffee cup under the drip as the coffee is brewing makes for an excellent rich roasty first cuppa in the morning. The second? It has to be what swill tastes like.
2. The kids in carpool this morning were mumbling about their plans for after school as usual, but “not being able to meet tonight because I’m going over to so-and-so’s house to watch the debate” surprised me. From an 8th grader? How cool is that?
3. The Clean Eating magazine I picked up at Whole Foods the last time I was there and filled my basket for much more than the $40 my son tells me is possible to spend, is something I shouldn’t be feeling snarky about. I’m sure that their tag line of “Improving your life one meal at a time” doesn’t include butter or whole anything and that the recipe on the cover for Cheesecake Pears has far fewer calories than the Key Lime Cheesecake I just made. *sigh*
4. The swill-tasting second cup is growing on me, because let’s face it. It’s coffee, right?
5. Lots of people were out walking and jogging this morning and as I approached each person walking in the opposite direction, I looked up, got ready to make eye contact, and say, “Good Morning,” with a smile on my face. Now you could argue that I’m full of shit or just plain phoney, but I’ve learned that I’m the one that gets the perks from it. It makes me feel good.
6. Mostly women don’t return the eye contact or the greeting. And I don’t think it’s because I look like some perky idiot. I’m fairly reserved and pleasant about the whole thing. The men respond. They smile pleasantly whether they’re jogging, or on a bike, hell, even the guys setting up for their day’s work responded pleasantly. What is up with women anyway? How hard is it to be friendly? Pretend, okay?
7. Is it just me, or does “LOW-FAT HOLIDAY MENUS” sound like an oxymoron?
8. I’m reading a piece by Frank McCourt in William Zinsser’s Inventing the Truth and he writes:
“You were made conscious all the time, for instance, of how you had to prepare to go to confession. You had to examine your conscience. This was a form of introspection that was imposed on us. But it was valuable. It forced us to think, “Were we good?” or “Were we bad?” and to think about our various transgressions. Before you went to the confession booth you would go over the seven deadly sins to see if there was one you ought to mention. The one that always confused me was pride. How could pride be a sin? In America you hear, “Walk tall, be proud of your heritage.” But we were taught that pride is what got Lucifer kicked out of heaven because he thought he was equal to God, if not greater. You were supposed to think little of yourself. Get rid of that evil.”
Actually, demonstrated pride was totally smacked down in my family. [Yes, it was.] Thinking about it now, it relates to the idea that perhaps we weren’t as good as others, so shouldn’t act as if we were. We didn’t deserve anything and weren’t worth anything, so shouldn’t act as if we deserved more than what we had. It sounds pretty awful writing it, and even more awful reading it back to myself now. But yes, that just about sums it up.
9. I’d love a small, old house close to the beach. *waiting for thunderbolt* Maybe that cute one I saw this morning with the shiny garage floor I’d totally trade in for the grungy carpeted floor in my house and the chic framed vintage travel poster hanging on the wall. Or maybe the house with the walled patio topped with bright fuschia bougainvillas. On second thought, maybe the one with the weathered flagstones leading up to the bright red front door and the large paned windows…Clearly, I’m over the not feeling like I deserve things. I was never that good at it anyway. Ever.
10. Must go iron hair. Have to meet with contractor today about remodel that will most likely not happen now since no one is lending money to anybody, regardless of status as bonafide tax-paying stalwart American middle class “we can shoulder everything, so just stick it to us baby” diehards.
Can’t quite figure out whom I should thank first:
- all the realtors who talked people who couldn’t afford a house on a particular salary into that house and made off like bandits with their commissions;
- purple kool-aid drinking I don’t feel sorry for you people who actually believed the crap they were fed; or
- the mortgage company that approved the loans and then passed them off as soon as they could.
Wait. Perhaps Richard Fuld, the now defunct Lehman Brothers’ former CEO can front us. Surely someone who made that much money while his company took a swirl down the drain has a dime to spare. Okay, so maybe a million dollar painting he doesn’t need anymore? Just a drop in the bucket, doncha think?