Dear Diary,
I’M SO SORRY I FORGOT TO TELL YOU WHICH WIENERS WE LIKED BEST.
I wrote to you yesterday about our very official, blind taste test: Nathan’s Beef Franks vs. Hebrew National.
Honestly, Hebrew National has been my favorite for years, so I assumed they’d be the winner even though I’ve never had Nathan’s.
Then I looked at the hot dogs and they look virtually the same in the package, so I thought they’d tie. ...
Dear Diary,
I made waffles for breakfast last Thursday. I prepared my sourdough sponge the night before. I was awake before All the Children. I made myself a cup of coffee, and I puttered around the kitchen, and I thought, “Oh, this is why Morning People like getting up before everyone else. It’s so quiet and calming and lovely. I have a Start on the Day. I have time with a Quiet Brain before everyone chatters at me.” ...
It does not snow where I live. Or rather, it snows approximately one quarter of one day during the winter. Everyone gets VERY excited, we cancel everything, people from snowy climates mock our hysteria, folks crash their cars, our children try to sled on icy gravel, and stores sell out of every apocalyptic supply item: bottled water, hot chocolate, mylar survival blankets, and hot dog buns. Don’t even ask; I do not know why with the hot dog buns — I just report the fact, folks. ...
Greg and I have been married 25 years as of yesterday which, as we say every year, is a long time not to smother someone with a pillow. A long, LONG time. And, in that time, we’ve learned a few surprising things, 25 of which I’ll share with you here.
(1) Any amount of time is a long time not to smother someone with a pillow. Listen, I do not care if you’re married 1 year or 100 years, (2) LIVING WITH ANOTHER HUMAN IS HARD. No matter how precious and wonderful and thoughtful and well intentioned that human is, that human also makes horrific, wet, gagging/choking sounds — above 80 decibels which has the ability to cause permanent hearing damage — when clearing his throat in public. Or that human, no matter how many times you tell him over 25 years, will never — NOT EVER — take some butter and pass the dish before meticulously and painstakingly buttering his own roll so that others at the table might have a go at the butter before he’s finished. It’s TERRIBLE but true. So BEFORE ANYTHING ELSE, we all deserve ALL the credit in the world for never — not once — sitting on a pillow on their face. WELL DONE, MARRIED FRIENDS. High fives all around. ...
If you don’t know why Greg had to apologize to me, read this first. Once you understand the Horrible, Horrible Things He Did, you can read his apology below. I thought this might be instructive for those of you who have wives and need to know how to apologize for the Ways You’ve Wronged Them. You’re welcome.
I woke up with a sick feeling in my gut. You know that foggy state of Near Awake when you viscerally remember Something’s Amiss but you don’t yet have the mental faculties to remember What Exactly Happened? It was That. I woke up sad and somehow lonely. I knew, at least, No One Had Died, so thank God for that. That Feeling is more Charcoal and Ash Grey, like sticky soot on the gut. No, this was different. I was just Hurt. Like the way your heart falls on top of your stomach when someone who loves you is thoughtless or cruel in a way that’s impossible to understand. ...
You know, sometimes I think we sort of have our crap together around here. Sometimes I think we’re Not That Weird. Or rather, if we’re weird, we’re weird like Everyone Else now. We have our quirks. We have our adorable dysfunctions. We try to love each other well, and we succeed and fail and succeed and fail, but we keep practicing. So I look around these days, and I figure we’re Normal. ...
