Do you get as much junk
mail and as many catalogs as I do? I probably toss two pounds of former
trees into the recycling every day. I'm not exaggerating. I get
Country Curtains and Victoria's Secret, Heifer International and
Luxury Home International. What could possibly be the common demographic
between those catalogs? I don't own a luxury home in France in which I
sit at my desk in my naughty underwear to review my tax deduction for donating
a heifer to a needy peasant, and then part the gingham curtains slightly to
admire my expansive estate.
I get catalogs from companies I've never
heard of. For that matter, I get catalogs for people I've
never heard of, but they seem to have my address. Maybe they live in the
garage; I haven't been in there for a while.
Luckily, I've found a site
called Catalog Choice on which I'm notifying company after company that I don't
want their catalogs. I haven't seen the results yet, but here's hoping.
And once the election's over, I suppose the tide of flyers and miscellaneous
propaganda will stop. I've received ballot recommendations from some
pretty polar sources. I want to know where half these groups got my name.
And I mean that: the half I don't agree with. They obviously don't
know me.
And why do vegetables go
bad in our crisper bins at the speed of light? It's as though as soon as
I place the newly purchased avocados in the bin and slide the door shut,
they've turned to brown mush in an armadillo-hard rind. What's the window
of opportunity on making guacamole: a minute and a half?
If you get
a frantic phone call from me at 10:00 a.m. yelling "Quick, buy some corn
chips stat and get the hell over here!!" you'll know I just opened the
vegetable drawer and realized I had to whip up some guacamole pronto or toss
another avocado in the compost. My husband and I should just take bowls to the grocery store and toss a salad in the produce section because by the time we get the lettuce and herbs home, they've already passed over to veggie heaven.
And another question: why
does anyone ever need to launder bath towels? Bath towels are used exclusively to
dry our freshly bathed or showered bodies. How does a towel with that job
ever collect dirt or get smelly? It doesn't make any sense. They only soak up clean water on a clean body. Wash cloths I understand, their job is wiping the dirt off; but bath towels are just for water. How do they mysteriously get so rank?
Now you know what causes the furrows in my forehead. Embarrassing, isn't it? Maybe I should send for a therapy catalog, or buy a copy of Hints from Heloise so I can learn how to freshen my towels, and how to re-crisp my lettuce between pages of my latest Orvis Fly Fishing catalog.
