March Madness

Everything always takes longer and costs more than you thought it would.

Girl Scout Cookies: Who doesn’t love them?  Who thinks a single serving size is one sleeve (half the box)?  And who doesn’t consider them as addictive as crack?  But, oh, those Thin Mints!

I was thisclose to cleaning out a section of my closet, but luckily the feeling passed.

I love broccoli, but the refrigerator stinks when there is cooked broccoli in it.  I should store it in a lead container.

Why is it so easy to spot the mistakes in our texts and posts AFTER we have sent them?

Overlooking for a moment the biggest SNAFU in the history of the Oscars, now maybe I can finally stop confusing Emma Stone, Amy Adams, Jessica Chastain and Rachel McAdams, except that Emma and Rachel both starred with my man, Ryan Gosling, in movies I loved (Emma in “Crazy Stupid Love” and “La La Land” and Rachel in “The Notebook”).

And back to that SNAFU – Really?  Who handed poor OLD Warren Beatty the duplicate envelope for Best Actress?  (The Price Waterhouse guy, who will live in infamy.)  He obviously was confused, but Faye Dunaway just blurted out “La La Land” when she saw it on the card.  Even though it turns out to be an error by the accountant handing out the envelope, I don’t think you will see Warren and Faye at the Oscars again unless: 1) The producers play it for laughs and ask them to host; or 2) They appear in the In Memoriam portion of the telecast.

There are so many classes I had to take as a student that have brought me only a modicum of value as an adult.  I still can’t figure out percentages properly, but I know how much of a tip to leave at a restaurant.  I can calculate the sale price pretty closely at Macy’s, but I rarely have to deploy my knowledge of geometry in any venture.  I suggest we revamp our education system and offer more practical knowledge.  For example, I would like someone to teach me how to properly load the dishwasher to maximize the space.  Sure, my dishwasher came with a manual, but I am a visual learner, so a demo would do me a world of good.  And in case you don’t think this is an important thing to know, I have a friend who swears her first husband divorced her on the grounds that she could never load the dishwasher correctly.  When it comes to folding sheets, even a visual demonstration by Debbie Lynch was fruitless.  It would be easier to drop mine off at her house and let her do it for me.  Finally, I have managed to live 66 years without any working knowledge of calculus, but these are the kinds of things we ALL need to learn.

We all fuss and agonize over furniture selection, but when people come to visit, we end up in the kitchen anyway. I guess my sectional with three recliners is only so I can move around the room and keep my own feet up.

I’m thinking about having the house painted, and I wish I had a dime for every color that is basically beige.  Someone has to sit down and figure out names for these colors that are almost impossible to differentiate.  “Tawny Beige,” “Desert Fortress,” “Mesa Tumbleweed” and “Wheat Toast” conjure up some kind of image, but, in reality, pretty much any beige color will cover up the Sherwin Williams “Cheap but Hides the Flaws” builder’s paint the house came with, right?  Meanwhile, I’ll agonize over exactly which hue to choose, and I’ll probably never even notice the difference once the paint has been applied.

I also wish I had a dime for every book in this house with a bookmark in it, meaning that I have started it but haven’t finished it.  And they are all books I want to read!  I need to finish one before I start the next one.

Judging by the amount of hair I extracted from my hairbrush this morning, it’s a wonder there is ANY left on my head.

I performed a mitzvah today, pairing up two white socks that did not match but looked lonely without their mates.  Now they are no longer alone but have a partner.  My work here is done.

Someone committed an act that can best be described as civil disobedience by removing the tags on my throw pillows.  I only hope the authorities are not monitoring this kind of activity.

And speaking of the authorities, first I find out that my Alexa may be ratting me out by recording every boring thing said in this house: “Alexa, what time is it? (when I’m too lazy to turn over in bed and look at the clock); “Alexa, what’s the temperature?”  Now, thanks to presidential counselor (is that like being a camp counselor?  Just wondering…) KellyAnne Conway says that there are many ways to “surveil” each other and that my microwave may be recording things.  Is it swapping gossip with the fridge?  Will they report to Weight Watchers that I defrosted a blueberry muffin?  Seriously, KAC?  Should I just wrap myself up in aluminum foil and hide out silently under the bed?  You can’t make this stuff up.  Oh, wait, they just did.

The much anticipated disclosure of the president’s tax returns by Rachel Maddow on her news program yesterday turned out to be about as revelatory as when TV’s Geraldo Rivera opened Al Capone’s vault – and found NOTHING.  Oh, there was a tax return – from 2005 – and the president paid at about the 25% rate, but we had to wait a half an hour to see two pages of a 12-year-old tax return.  He promised to disclose his tax records and then reneged after he was elected, asserting that no one cares.  I care.  I really want to know if this man paid taxes, gave to charity and is tied to nefarious forces of influence.  He can see mine, so why can’t I see his?  But revealing MY tax return would have made for better television.

Quick, stop what you are doing!  Macy’s is having a one-day sale.  Again.  And for two days.  Never mind, there will be another one next week, I’m sure.

Whenever I get my car washed, I swear it runs better.  And that the likelihood of rain (and snow) increases.

I have finally succumbed to subscribing to Showtime, which will offer me even more opportunities to watch movies.  And I can finally start watching the Showtime series “Homeland,” “Nurse Jackie,” “Ray Donovan” and others that people have been touting for so long.  That subscription brings my monthly cable TV/phone/Internet bill to just over $200 a month, and that’s AFTER a bulk rate discount of $50 available in my community.  $200 a month!  Remember when TV was free?  My mother is spinning in her grave about now.

If there is just ONE shopping cart with the squeaky wheel, that’s the one I will get.  You know, the one where the wheel shimmies or only wants to go left?  Yeah, if there are 200 carts available, that’s the ONE cart that I end up with every time.

And speaking of the supermarket, I usually get through the “About 20 items” line.  But, invariably, I am behind some old guy who takes forever to extricate his wallet, which is buried deep in his back pocket, and then pays cash and needs to get change.  Man, this is the EXPRESS line!  I could have been home by now!  I, on the other hand, have my ShopRite card and my credit card IN MY HAND before I have to pay so I can get through the process swiftly – for all the usual altruistic reasons, of course.

Last summer I started to meditate.  I wasn’t all that good at it, but I found it relaxed by body (if not my mind) before I had to plunge into my day or after a full day of activities.  So recently I went to a mindfulness session to inspire me to make time to start meditating again.  The leader was nothing but realistic, promising that I am not the ONLY person who works hard to relax but who cannot shut off her mind.  You think about breathing – and then your relaxation is interrupted by the usual mundane thoughts:  What am I having for dinner tonight?  Did I leave the laundry in the washing machine?  Don’t forget to pick up bananas.  We all live with such angst!  Now I have to remind myself to meditate and RELAX, dammit!