What kind of hand cream are you using?

These days, it's only a matter of time before the conversation turns to hand cream. Small talk has never loomed so large. These days, conversations start with mask shortages, death rates, and crowded hospitals. That's how we ease into things. Only then, once we've chitchatted about funeral bans and skyrocketing unemployment rates, can we move on to the much meatier, substantive topic of hand lotion.

"Go with Weleda Skin Food if you prefer something a bit thicker."

"It's my wrists that are really bad. Worse than my knuckles!"

"I thought I liked Aveda but I think my skin has gotten immune to it."

"The other day I kneaded pizza dough after applying Trader Joe's rose-scented hand cream and later I was convinced the pizza tasted like it."

I never imagined that living through a devastating historic event would be so mundane. I assumed the world would stop! I thought we would gather in the streets, throwing old furniture into heaping bonfires, drinking moonshine and dancing under the apocalyptic skies. But instead, we keep going. Writing emails. Cooking pasta. Stepping in a wet spot on the kitchen floor and walking around with a damp sock all goddamn afternoon. Same old, same old.

One difference, however, is that we're not taking mundanity for granted. With every conversation about hand lotion, we're clinging to the mundanity for dear life. We know all that stands between us and what we're seeing in leaked video footage from ICUs is one ill-fated touch of a handrail. It's not surprising that we'd rather debate the merits of Zoom's Gallery View versus Speaker View for 15 minutes.

Annnnnnyway.

I really do sincerely think that it's insensitive to talk about silver linings when it comes to the coronavirus. But I know we're all thinking it, so I'll just come out and say it:

Covid got me blogging again!

The silverest of all linings. It only took a bloody global pandemic, but I'm back. Maybe I'll write more in a few days. We'll see. Probably not.

Stay safe (<---- hate this),

Marge

Presented without comment...

With pride,
Margaret

P.S. You better watch it all!

Land of plenty

Today in the Safeway produce section Andy stared in bewilderment as the automatic sprinklers misted the veggies, complete with thunder sound effect. He laughed and shook his head. "This f-ing country."

It reminded me of an article I read recently about former Soviet President Boris Yeltsin's trip to Houston in 1989. During his visit he went to a local grocery store and was amazed at what he saw.

Image via Chron.com

He said if the Russian people knew about how much food there was in America—how good it could be—there would be a revolution. As he would later recount on Oprah's couch (not really, but I wish) this was his 'a-ha moment'.

In all seriousness, though, this was the moment when Yeltsin first soured on the whole communism thing. And that was just some shite Texas grocery store. Imagine what he'd think of Metropolitan Market!

Love,
Margaret

P.S. If these blogs were any shorter, they'd be my thumbnail!

P.P.S. I bit my thumbnail down too far the other day and now it hurts.

Last night's dinner conversation

Tonight I'm very tired and, as Yolanda Foster would say, "I have lost the ability to read, write, or even watch TV."

OK, fine, I can still watch TV. And yes, I suppose it's mean to poke fun at Yo's so-called "Chronic Lyme Disease", but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't skeptical. Lots of docs say there's no such disease. Plus, have you seen that gal's supplement regime? She needs to get that in check. On this week's episode of RHOBH she was gulping down vitamins by the handful. You know how I feel about bogus health stuff.

Anyway.

Since I don't have much to say this evening, I'll share a conversation I had with Andy yesterday while we made falafels.

---

Last night's dinner conversation

Andy: "You know what's an extremely underrated fact?"

Me: "What?"

Andy: "There was once a president who was in a wheelchair.........and he kept it a SECRET."

Me: "Yes, that, and his wife was a lesbian."

Andy: "And she was his cousin."

Me: "She was?"

Andy: "Yeah, she didn't have to change her name when they got married. It was already Roosevelt."

One of three known photos of FDR in a wheelchair.
Image via Wikimedia Commons

---

Just ate so many raviolis I reckon I'll explode.

Love,
Margaret

People I didn't realise were still alive

Dick Van Dyke (age 89)

Image via Wikimedia Commons

The same year that Dick Van Dyke was born, a major Diphtheria epidemic broke out in Alaska, Hitler published Mein Kampf and Calvin Coolidge became the first US president to have his inauguration broadcast via radio. Also, nobody found the name Dick Van Dyke funny. Not a single person.

Henry Kissinger (age 91)

Image via Wikimedia Commons

This dude should be Andy's hero in so much that he proves foreigners can go to America and play a massive, strategic role in its foreign policy for decades, forever altering the country's history. The photo above is Kissinger casually walking down a hall whilst chatting with Mao. Yep. That Mao. Mao Zedong. 

Doris Day (age 90)

Image via Wikimedia Commons

That woman that they sing about in Grease is still alive. She's been married four times. All of her husbands are dead. #UsGalsLiveLonger #TakeThatPatriarchy

Zsa Zsa Gabor (age 98)

Image via Wikimedia Commons

Honestly, I didn't even know who Zsa Zsa Gabor was other than some lady with a funny name from the olden days. Turns out that she IS (not was) a Hungarian-American socialite and actress. Despite numerous health scares, including having to amputate her right leg, the saucy minx is still alive. In fact, she celebrated her 98th birthday yesterday! 

Pope Benedict XVI (age 87)

Image via Wikimedia Commons

Oh yeah, Ratzinger's still kickin'! See, this is what happens when you decide to retire instead of die. It seems the much better way to get out of work, no?

Sidney Poitier (age 87)

Image via Wikimedia Commons

Not only is "Mist-ah Sidney Poitier" still alive, but he's currently serving as the Bahamian ambassador to Japan!

Hosni Mubarak (age 86)

Image via Wikimedia Commons

Yeah, that guy who was FINALLY overthrown following massive uprisings and violent protests in Egypt? He's alive. Nobody ended up killing him. I just assumed somebody would have, as that's how these things tend to play out, but nope, he's just in jail on murder charges. He's expected to be released soon. 

Fidel Castro (age 88)

Image by Louis Korda via Wikimedia Commons

Whaaaa? He took office back when Eisenhower was president. His biggest rival? JFK! Still, somehow this giant, cigar-smoking, field-cap-wearing communist beardface who represents all that America stands against is only 88 years old. That's only two years older than Mubarak. Hmm. Mubarak must dye his hair. 

I DESPISE ageism and, as Anne Hathaway would say, I don't mean to be gauche, but I must confess that I typed this post at lightening speed just in case any of these folks died before I finished! It was stressful! My fingers are sweaty and sore. 

YOLO, 

Margaret

What will shock us when we're older?

Our parents are shocked by rap videos. Their parents were shocked by Elvis' gyrating hips. Their parents were shocked by a glimpse of the female ankle.

What will shock us?

I really can't think of what it will be.

Image Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, Inc. via Wikimeda Commons

Each decade, the popstars wear less. It's gotten to the point that they're now just naked. Miley Cyrus posts full on naked pictures of herself on Instagram and we're just like, "Yeah... Anyway, where did you put the pretzels?"

Heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, polysexual, pansexual, asexual—we're fine with them all. Everything's great. It's all OK. Not shocking. Increasingly not even interesting.

Every other day I watch a guy shoot fireworks out of his butt on YouTube. I'm not proud of it, but I once watched a 7-minute video of a woman popping her husband's ginormous neck zit. It was only later, lying in bed that night, that it dawned on me: that wasn't a zit at all; it was a BOIL.

Anyway, you get the idea. Nothing is shocking. Not nudity. Not sexual orientation. Not gross stuff.

I absolutely love that we've reached this inclusive, 'who gives a rip' stage in human history (by "we" I mean young liberal people).

But I still have a sneaking suspicion that, when I'm 90, the "kids these days" will do something that shocks me. I'll ask my grandkids to explain it to me, and I'll tell them stories of how "In my day, you used to have to wear clothes at the supermarket." And they'll laugh at the very idea.

I regularly promise myself (with Andy as my witness) that, even as the world changes around me, I will always be open to new ideas. No matter how tempting it is, I'll resist the urge to cling to the past out of fear and nostalgia. It's the better way to be.

Still, I'm curious. What will shock us? Displaying taxidermied human relatives in our living rooms as home décor? Maybe.

Your wise ol' pal,
Margaret

P.S. Man, there's something about being 28 that makes you think about ageing like you never have before. It's bizarre. Maybe it's the wrinkles I just noticed around my eyes. Or maybe it's the fact that I don't really understand who Calvin Harris is. Whatever it is, it's causing me to cry at HSBC commercials and write blog post oaths to my future 90-year-old self.

Remember, remember the 5th of November - VIDEO BLOG EDITION

Nighty night,

Margaret

Want to annoy a British person? Here's how

One of Britain's favourite pastimes is 'tut tut-ing' at America. It's as British as afternoon tea. And I can't say I blame the ol' limeys—as the empire continues to shrink, all they can do is watch as we bastardise their language and make a mockery of their royal family.

When they lost Hong Kong in 1997, making fun of Americans was one of the few constants they could cling to. Fair enough. The poor chaps.

Long hair - gross.

America loves its flag. In many countries, flag waving is seen as a bit nationalistic and pretty right wing. But in America, the flag is just part of the country's decor. One time I actually Googled "the flag", without realising how presumptuous that was. Other countries have flags too, I reminded myself. There's no such thing as "the flag". But still, 99% of the images that came up were of the US flag. So I felt a bit vindicated. 

Anyway, if you want to keep Brits on your good side and avoid their sideways glances—perhaps you're courting one or maybe you're hoping to hire an expat to tutor your high-schooler in history (I know a guy you can call)—here are some common Americanisms to avoid:

Crime: The long A
Example: "Happy H-AHH-lloween", "Let's eat pAHsta with meatballs"
Explanation: It's so funny, because people from the south of England (London and below) absolutely adore the long A. They say things like 'gr-ah-ss' instead of 'grass' and 'b-AH-thtub' instead of 'bathtub'. HOWEVER, when Americans choose to apply the long A to certain words, Brits totally lose their cool. Think of the name Al, as in "I can call you Betty, and Betty when you call me, you can call me Al". For the most part, that's the A sound that Brits like. Video explanation below:

Crime: Shortening the phrase 'pissed off' to 'pissed'
Example: "Bob totally ditched me at the party last night. I was so pissed!"
Explanation: To a Brit, 'pissed' means 'drunk', and using it to mean 'irritated' or 'angry' is incorrect, not to mention confusing. In the example above, they would think you were saying that you were heavily intoxicated, which changes the meaning of the sentence completely.

Crime: Referring to the UK as 'Europe' or to a British person as 'European'
Example: "My sister is on vacation in Europe right now—she's going to London, then Liverpool and, finally, Edinburgh."
Explanation: Even though the UK is technically part of Europe (both politically and geographically), Brits don't regard themselves as European. The term 'Europe' refers to continental Europe—France, Germany, Spain, etc.

Crime: Saying someone has a 'British accent'
Example: "I just love Robert Pattinson's British accent!"
Explanation: Robert Pattinson has an English accent. There's no such thing as a British accent. That would imply that Groundskeeper Willie, Tom Jones and the Queen all have the same accent. Even saying 'English accent' is far too vague, but at least it's (technically) accurate.

Crime: Saying World War II started in 1941
Example: "World War II started in 1941"
Explanation: Eeek. I am guilty of this one. Don't blame me! Blame Kenmore Jr. High! I swear that I had those dates—1941 to 1945—seared into my memory via all my textbooks and teachers. When Americans say the war started in 1941, Brits get annoyed because, for them, it started in 1939, when Germany invaded Poland and Britain decided to do something about it. When America finally got involved two years later, the Brits were like "Where the heck have you guys been?!" But before you start to feel too bad, keep in mind that, if we were Chinese, we would say the war started in 1931 with the invasion of Manchuria. So nobody's perfect (even you, Britain).

Crime: Confusing nationality with national heritage
Example: Guy whose family has lived in Seattle for four generations: "I'm Irish!"
Explanation: When you enthusiastically say to a Brit, "I'm Irish!", they will think you're saying that you're actually Irish—as in, born and raised in Ireland. Instead, say "my ancestors are from Ireland". Note: if you're an American and you're thinking, "What? Nobody does this. What are you talking about?", think harder. I didn't realise people did it at first either. But lots of people do.

Crime: Referring to sports teams in the singular
Example: "Liverpool is playing really well"
Explanation: Stateside, we refer to sports teams in the plural if we're using the mascot as the team name (e.g. "The Seahawks are playing well"), but we refer to a team in the singular if we're using the city as the team name (e.g. "Seattle is playing really well"). In the UK, whether you're using the city or the mascot, it's always plural. Liverpool are playing really well.

Now, it's important that you understand this: I'm not saying that the Brits are right about all of the above. Only avoid these Americanisms if you want to impress a Brit for whatever reason. But if you don't, then keep on keepin' on.

In related news, if you aren't quite sure what separates the terms 'Great Britain, 'United Kingdom', 'England', etc., this video is worth watching (it's recommended by Lord Andy himself):



Cheerio,
Margaret

One small step for man, one giant leap for closet space

On this day, 45 years ago, Lance Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin walked on the moon. There hasn't been a comparable achievement since. Yeah, we've tried—the Internet, smartphones, segways—but nothing can match the moon landing.

What about 3D printing, you say? God damn it. STOP KIDDING YOURSELF.

Man walking on the moon was the coolest thing that's ever happened.

Image via Wikimedia Commons

On July 20th 1969, 600 million people gathered around their TVs and watched a guy bounce across THE MOON. That giant wheel of space cheese! That ancient rock that controls the ocean tides and makes Professor Lupin go berzerk every month. A man flew 250,000 miles up into the sky, parked on moon and got out. It simply doesn't get cooler than that. 

My own personal moon landing

To honour the 45th anniversary of such a historic event, I decided to learn how to fold a fitted sheet. Bottom sheets, with their ridiculous elastic edges, have been a point of contention in my life for as long as I've been doing laundry. The stupid cloth amoebas just ball up in the closet, getting wrinkled and taking up too much space.  

Yesterday, I couldn't take it any longer. It was time to act! 

I found a YouTube video that explained each step of the folding process. I had to watch it a few times and really force myself to pay attention because it was so boring. After a few goes, I'd done it. A perfectly folded fitted sheet.

The result! (I also used this as an opportunity to practice 'smizing')

Believe me, if I can do it, so can you. 

Now what?

When astronauts return to Earth, they often find it hard to adjust to daily life. How can you really take anything seriously after witnessing first-hand just how insignificant we are in the universe?

Now that I've mastered the art of folding a fitted sheet, I face a similar struggle. How should I spend the rest of my weekend?

I've signed up for a yoga class, so I'll go to that in a few hours. I'll check in on the golf to see if Rory McIlroy is still winning. At some point, I'll probably eat some peanut butter.

Over and out, 

Margaret