How to Stay Sane

I've started reading the food section of the Washington Post. And the advice columns. And the comics. And sports, of course. Anything but the front page. It's just. too. much. 

I have deleted Twitter and I am not missing starting my day stressed and angry. I don't think I'm being willfully uninformed (that would be Trump)--I just think I'm choosing to input very selectively and in small quantities. News overload is real, and I felt like I was reading stories and posts up to my eyeballs, and I'm not sure it was doing me any good so I've reversed course and now I spend a minute reading headlines, pick an article or two to actually read, and that's it. Maybe, MAYBE, the evening news. ALWAYS, ALWAYS the NYT mini crossword puzzle. 

I'm not feeling like it's been a bad decision for me. I'm not feeling like I don't know what's going on. I do. Generally. And that's all I need, for now. Because I know how I'm voting. Nothing I read is going to change that. I'm doing what I can  to feel like I'm not just sitting idly by as our democracy wastes away. I wear my mask if I leave the house. I've written voter encouragement postcards. I donate to campaigns. Watching Rachel Maddow doesn't seem like it's going to equip me with anything helpful right now. 

I get it. We are in full crisis mode. 2020 is a shit storm hurricane. But I really don't need to be in the eye of it everyday. 

So. Ordered a rowing machine. Have been baking cookies and trying new recipes. Taking walks when the air allows. Reading a few really great books. Practicing my Italian. 

Just trying to stay sane. It's a low bar, I know. But sanity is worth having, even if precariously. 

RandObs

The title is short for Random Observations because I've now done enough of this particular type of post that it seemed repetitive to me to just keep calling it that so I've coined a new term that I invite you to enjoy and employ. RandObs. I kinda like it.

Here we go.

I just read an article about a reggae singer whose nickname was Toots. And he was a guy. If I were a guy, I would definitely want my nickname to be Toots. So ironically cool. 

We all need to stop saying 2020 couldn't get any worse in the same way we all need to stop saying Trump couldn't get any worse. 

I have this new recipe for cookies and the recipe is actually designed for you to make the dough and freeze it in cookie balls and then bake it off--straight from the freezer to the oven, mind you-- when you want a cookie. Or three. Or five. Or maybe eight depending on what kind of day you're having. It. Is. The. Best.  Text me if you want the recipe. 

Last night I made a dinner that literally we ate every bite of--there was not even one single piece of meat or veg left over, and it's not like I didn't make enough.. It was just that good, if I do say so myself. Very satisfying to satisfy the table. 

I bought a pack of M&Ms yesterday (see previous post) and I am keeping them in my car console. If I want a few, I have to walk into the garage and get into my car, which is just far enough that I will likely forget they're there until I'm in the car ready to go somewhere so these M&Ms should last me at least a week. Although now Dave and Olivia know where the M&Ms are. So we'll see. 

I subscribe to a daily newsletter called Wake Up to Politics, and I realized this morning that I do not actually read it. Ever. Every morning I just delete it, because as it turns out I do not want to wake up to politics. 

I deleted Twitter two days ago and am all the happier for it.

If you have Instagram you should follow Jennifer Garner. She is genuinely, relentlessly both a positive person and a positive force in the world and I enjoy her posts oh so much. Truly. They make me smile. Her parents must be very proud of her. 

Yesterday Olivia sang part of a song from Chicago for us and wow. Just wow. That girl can sing. Also, Dave taught her to do that whistle where you put your fingers in your mouth and it's really loud, so she can sing AND she can whistle. The girl is going places. 

I love the relationship my kids have with each other. There's just nothing that brings me more happiness than their interactions with one another. Pure joy. 

Just a reminder that yes, 2020 is a bit of a shitshow but there's beauty out there. My cousin Paige reminded me that you have to look for it, sometimes really hard, but it's there. Go find it. 

Market Research for the Win

Market research is no joke.

The people in charge ("the man"?) have figured me out. And I'm simultaneously impressed and embarrassed. 

A few weeks ago I was in line at the supermarket, and apparently the wait was on the longer side so much so that I started noticing the snacks that were readily available to me as I stood in line. They were very conveniently located so that I didn't even have to give a sheepish look to the person in line behind me as I darted to Aisle 5 to grab just one more thing... 

The tiny pack of parmesan crisp crackers caught my attention. I let my shoulder angels battle it out: "Perfect snack size!"    "Full fat--all cheese!"    "It's right there!"    "It's there to tempt you!"

The hungry angel won the war and I discovered that the snack-size pack of parmesan crisps is not, in fact, worth the calories. Lesson learned. But job well done marketing people. You got me to buy and try. 

Having evidently not learned my lesson, today in Target, as I waited in a longer-than-usual line, I started looking around. I should have just gone to Instagram and lurked. But no. I didn't do that. I glanced at the tabloids (Drew Barrymore is the happiest she's ever been!) and then 180'd to the impulse-purchase side. And well done, Target. Seriously. Peanuts (arguably good for you), chips (in the small, single-serving bags that are hard to find and easy to justify), breath mints (do they even have calories?), and candy. And this is where they got me. I made all the classic mistakes-- shopping before lunch, slightly hungry, and on a Sunday when the store had lines. I'm such an amateur. I literally have no chance of making it through this Target foray without something from this section. 

Hmmm. What might I consume that wouldn't ruin my lunch and could be considered not terrible (a low bar, I know, but I wasn't even trying for healthy--I know what battles to pick). I settled on Peanut M&Ms. Because peanuts (please refer back to "arguably good for you"). So 50% good for me. I can work with that number. 

These on-the-fly buys make me feel like I'm predictable. "The man" knows exactly what I might want and puts it right where I can't miss it. And I fall for it. Sometimes even when I'm not hungry (I'll just keep it in my purse in case I'm stuck in traffic--HA! that one sounded so much more justifiable when there was actual traffic and actual places to go). 

So I guess kudos to you, "the man". You clearly know what you're doing. If I might make one small suggestion--could you please add Hot Tamales to the impulse-purchase section? You'll get me every. single. time. 

pizza

I'm not a food Instagrammer (and really, in my humble opinion, no one should be--just eat your food for Christ's sake!). So you will never see the two perfect pizzas Dave and I made the other night. These were no ordinary pizzas. These were pizzas of the Italian gods. Homemade dough, double-proofed and stretched to perfection. Sauce from scratch with only five ingredients--San Marzano tomatoes, olive oil, garlic, salt and pepper. Toppings? Two. Fresh mozzarella balls torn into bite-size morsels and fresh whole basil leaves. Pizza Margherita--fired to perfection in a newly purchased pizza oven that we have not mastered, but I would say we definitely, on this last run, we at least triumphed. The pizzas were a golden brown around the edges with just a hint of char in a few spots, and the cheese was bubbly and beautiful. They were gorgeous, but more importantly they were delicious. Delicious like f you were served this in Italy you would be happy. Not to brag. But we nailed it. I'm moving to Italy to become a pizza maker. 

This glorious meal was not without some work though. Effortless is not a word that would come to mind. We were scrambling trying to keep the oven at a consistent temperature while making pizzas and getting them on to and off of the peels, into and out of the oven, turning them to bake evenly without putting out the fire and creating a smoke storm that probably had our neighbors wondering if we were okay... it was a frenetic repast. But it was fun. It was kind of an event, something to get excited about, to look forward to. 

And as we ate, in between groans of satisfaction, we talked about what we are going to do differently next time so that it might be a little less frenzied. 

It's a little bit of work making pizzas from scratch and cooking them in a pizza oven. There's preparation involved, and teamwork and timing. It doesn't just happen. But it feels like an accomplishment when you're done. And that's something.