3182 We passed on all counts

Friday, December 3, 2010

Disappointment is the distance between expectations and reality.

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Let me get this straight: The House has blocked the bill to extend unemployment benefits, but the House Republicans want to keep tax cuts for the wealthy. The house blocked a bill to feed needy school children healthy food (junk food producers, big campaign contributors, objected), but they passed the bill to ban loud TV commercials.

Yup. I guess they've got their priorities straight. "I've got mine, buck you fuddy."

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A prediction: There will be a class action suit against Prilosec and Zantac, alleging that they contribute to osteoporosis and broken hips. (Unfortunately, they do, by blocking production of acid, thereby making it difficult to absorb calcium, even if one is taking supplements. That's why the packages say not to use them for more than two consecutive weeks.)

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I hosted my first overnight guest in the new house last night. He'd been traveling all over the US and working a lot of overtime, and drove in from the Philadelphia area last night.

He likes a warm room. I like warm, too, but I often find his idea of "just right" too warm for me. Like, I'm trying to put makeup on and it's melting off. I think this house is cold, even though the thermometer says 72. Probably because with no basement, the floors are cold. Anyway, I was a bit worried that he'd think it was too cold here. I think he expected that, too, because he hadn't been here more than a half hour when he said, with surprise in his voice, "It's nice and warm here."

This morning, again with surprise in his voice, he said, "Nothing in the house smells of cigarettes." I think he was worried about that, too. I was, a bit, because even though I washed everything that came from the old house that could be laundered, there were a lot of things that couldn't be washed, like rugs and upholstery, and the sari spread on the very bed he slept in. And I knew if there was the slightest hint, he'd detect it.

And he has a slight cat allergy, and he knew Jasper is here. But Jasper sheds the least of any cat I've ever seen, not a bit of dry skin or dander, and, timid to the core, made himself scarce, so that wasn't a problem either.

So we were both afraid, in our own way, that he'd find the place cold and smelly and full of allergens, and we're both surprised that it was just fine.

This is good, I think. Now all I have to do is learn to cook.

Nah. That's going too far.
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