Gateway Ice Cream

woman-dropped-ice creamLike most addictions, mine started innocently, like a casual snort of coke at an Academy Awards party, but my drug of choice is more sly, more pernicious. I’m hooked on—ice cream snack cups. Those evil little cartons are the nickel bag of dairy products, what I call—Gateway Ice Cream. They are nothing short of an international junk-food marketing conspiracy designed to weaken and then bilk the public into gladly paying $1.25 for a product that should cost 10 cents.

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Doctor’s Orders

doctor's ordersI always follow doctor’s orders. For example, after my braces were removed, my orthodontist told me to wear my retainer every night. That was 42 years ago and I’m still wearing the friggin’ thing. My husband says it’s like going to be with a prize fighter. So when my doctor told to get a certain unpleasant test—I did it. You all know what I’m talking about, the dreaded colonoscopy.

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Apartment Living

 

woman searching dryerI’d rather live in a sleeping bag under a bridge than in an apartment. On my fun things to do list, apartment living rates right below pulling hair out of the bathtub drain.

What I find difficult is the forced familiarity. I know things about my neighbors that strangers should not know about each other, things that should only be shared after a late-night Jacuzzi session with three or four mojitos.

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She’s Got the Look

 

wrinkles-woman-eyes-faceIn Trader Joe’s parking lot, I’d just gotten out of my car and was headed for my trunk to get my shopping bags when I noticed a truck pulling out opposite me. To be courteous, I stood beside my car and waited for the truck to back up. And waited. And waited. When the vehicle finally maneuvered out of the parking place, the driver rolled down her window and yelled, “Don’t give me that look. I know how to drive!” Continue reading “She’s Got the Look”

Fur Play

 

I live with four men, a red tabby, a gray long hair, a brown Abyssinian, and a black and white short hair. This guarantees that no matter what I wear, cat hair will be the dominant color. Statement jewelry is so last year; at the House of Felis Domesticus, cat hair is the new must-have accessory. And it’s not a bad thing; it’s simply the price of feline fellowship, like finding a cat hair in your coffee. It’s amazing how one little cat hair in your mouth feels like the Trans-Atlantic cable.

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Drawing a Blank

I’ve developed a condition that, unfortunately, comes with age. I call it . . . Missing Word Syndrome—or MWS. It causes me to forget the correct names of things and substitute placeholder words. Just like a synonym is another word for the one you can’t spell, a placeholder is another word for the one you can’t remember. And lately, forgetting words is my… what do you call it…specialty. My recall deficit disorder first presented itself when my husband sent me on a parts run to Home Depot.

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