Thursday, January 29, 2015

Nothing to See Here

Flo counting her money.
I am at home making applesauce. I am not topless. I am not doing drugs or drinking to excess. I do not have a squadron of hunky men cavorting about, attempting to fulfill my wanton desires. I don't even have wanton desires. I never wear high heels or perfume, have never dated George Clooney and have not changed gender. I am boring. I am nobody. Thus, whatever I say here is meaningless -- until I become famous, at which point every last word will command a high price.

This is a sorry state of affairs, since there are so many talented people in the world who will pass through it unseen and unappreciated because they lack the one thing necessary to be catapulted to stardom. I have no idea what that one thing is, but that horrible woman who plays Flo on those stupid progressive insurance commercials does.

Flo is famous! She makes tons of money! People recognize her, and I am betting she can get a damn good table in any restaurant she wants, at least for lunch. This is nothing less than a crime against humanity.

Scary Stuff

There are always two twins.
I just read this in a scholarly article: "Studies have shown that two identical twins are more likely to have anxiety problems than two non-identical twins, which tells us that our genes probably play a role." Here's the troubling part: You can only have two identical twins!

Obviously just one cannot be a twin, and you cannot have three identical twins because then they are called triplets. Four are called quadruplets, and so on. Twins are defined as "two offspring produced by the same pregnancy." See that? The word "two" is inferred. You don't have to say "two twins" ever. If one of the twins dies you can say, "The poor remaining twin is bereft." You can say, "The only twin that's left is lonely." You can certainly say, "I'm glad that was the twin that lived, I hated that other one." But you never need to say "two twins." It's just dumb and stupid and redundant.

Think about it next time.

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Finally, Some Peace

Being in the moment is a lot more fun than I suspected. For most of my life I have worried about what I did in the past or what will happen in the future, even when my right this minute was pretty good. This of course squanders the very good present, turning it into fodder for a shitty past.

I cannot recommend this state of being highly enough. It's like getting a new lease on life: Being here now, unless you are being waterboarded or in a Nazi concentration camp (or any concentration camp really), is likely your best bet at all times. Next thing you know I might start doing yoga, who knows, but that is in the future so I will not think of it.

Speaking of Pleonasm

I  hate it when someone is recounting a personal anecdote and mentions it involved "a friend of mine." Why not just say "friend" and assume we'll understand whose? I also hate when people say "two twins" when simply saying "twins" does the job quite efficiently. Same with "this point in time." Exactly when else would the point under discussion take place?

A new one that you hear a lot regarding real estate or shopping for cars is "price point" instead of just "price," as if adding the second word makes you some kind of Rhodes scholar, not that being a Rhodes scholar is such a big deal anymore since both Bill "Skirt-chaser" Clinton and Rachel "Holier-Than-Thou" Maddow can both claim that distinction. Coincidentally, both of them are very pleonastic.

I've said too much already.

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Try to Be Here Now

Way back then.

Many Facebookers post pictures of themselves and their families from better days, times gone by, or whatever you want to call not now, not today, not reality. I am guilty of this myself, mostly because I was so much better-looking when I was younger, just like everyone. But I resist posting too many pictures of too much of my past because it is sad, desperate and counter-productive to being here now, which I try hard to be every second of every day. I wish other people would stop too. It's not only disturbing but downright depressing, and only makes it painfully obvious that their life right now is not satisfying.
In the moment.

Hunkering Down

Mitch's fire.
We have not yet lost our power even though the wind is fierce enough to bring down trees onto power lines, and so I have been staying tuned to the TV for the latest news on Winter Storm Juno.  Everyone keeps saying that those people in the storm's path should "hunker down" until it's over late tonight. Confused, I found "hunker" in the dictionary and learned that it means "to squat or crouch down low." The secondary meaning is "to apply oneself seriously to a task." I have no intention of doing either of those things, certainly not today.

Right now I am sitting upright on my couch. The only task to which I have applied myself all day was making tuna salad for lunch. Mitch made a fire in the fireplace, and he was crouching down when he was chopping the wood and actually building the fire, so he at least did a smattering of hunkering down. I may take a nap and actually stretch out on the couch in front of the fire, but I'm not sure that lying completely prone counts as hunkering down.

Looking out a window at our front door.
Anyway, here in Maine Juno continues to batter us, piling new feet of snow against all the doors and despite the fact that everyone in New York City is getting back to normal. I'm so happy for them.

Monday, January 26, 2015

The Storm Before the Calm

The storm isn't here yet but this sweatshirt is already available!
It's bright and sunny here in coastal Maine, with not a cloud in the sky, still the townsfolk are in a literal frenzy. I went to get gas this morning and the normally empty Irving station nearest my home looked like an outtake from last year's "World War Z." All of the eight pumps were in use, with lines of cars and trucks jockeying for position to be next. Naturally I joined them, my level of panic increasing just from seeing them all there. In fact I already had half a tank and have no plans to go anywhere today or even the next few days, but still--I wanted my tank full just in case. In case of what I am not sure, but you never know.

Next I went to the grocery store to get blueberries because we might be trapped inside for days and we're all out. Again the scene was chaos, sort of like bumper cars only with a purpose. Caught up in the excitement, I bought some herbed goat cheese just in case and a pound of edamame salad because you never know.

The storm behind all this furor is right now making its way up the eastern seaboard, aiming directly at my house. Yesterday it sounded bad but today it's worse: the forecasters have now upped the ante and are calling it CATASTROPHIC, adding that there will surely be hurricane-force winds and hundreds if not thousands of people without power along the coast, i.e. me and Mitch. One good thing about it all is that once it hits, neither my TV nor computer will work so I won't know how bad things really are and will instead be able to focus on Nature in all its glory. (Unless my roof caves in; then I'll know.)

As for now, it's hard not to tune in and hear the deliciously dire predictions about the STORM OF THE CENTURY, or at least one of the storms of one of the centuries. Because I'm betting that as soon as it arrives, things will quiet right down around here.