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Archive for the ‘Apartment life’ Category

Dear People Who See Me in Person,

Though there will be only a handful of you over the next couple of weeks, let me answer the inevitable questions now:

  1. Yes, I broke my ankle.
  2. No, it’s not a good story.

I wish I could say I broke it doing something exciting, like glacier hiking in Iceland, cliff diving in Bermuda or rappelling off the Empire State Building (if that could even be a thing).

But no.

I tripped on some uneven pavement and rolled my ankle.

I feel pretty, oh so pretty.

The ligament actually broke the tip off my fibula.

I broke the piggie who ate roast beef a couple of weeks ago. Same foot. My first two broken bones.

I guess if I’m going to damage myself, during a pandemic is as good a time as any. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.

This splint is my sexy new accessory for the next few weeks.

Dr. Peter said the bone will heal in about a month. I asked how long I should try to stay off my foot. He said:

Let pain be your guide.

Isn’t that true for so many things?

Anyway, I’ll be fine.

And also, it’s good to see you.
Beth

*Remember that song?

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Dear Tony, Spike, Ulysses, Rolfe, Verna and friends,

I found out this week that you likely will be leaving me soon to go to Mexico.

That makes me sad, but I understand. You have places to go and other people to see.

I know I’ll see you in the spring.

I’ll miss you. I’ll leave the feeder up just in case anyone still around needs a snack. (Suddenly I’m thinking of that Motel 6 commercial.)

Thanks for visiting.

Your friend,
Beth

* Thanks to Dale Evans and Roy Rogers.

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Dear People in the Condo Building:

I’m truly fascinated by your lives. Every time I go to our place to clean for a new guest or just hang out, there’s something going on.

It’s very “Rear Window.”

I’m here today because I have so much work to do, and I needed peace (read: time away from Dominic complaining about the Wi-Fi).

It’s a nice day, so I’m on the balcony. I’m worried about getting a contact high from the clouds of chronic. (New building name: Chronic Condo. Or THC Towers. Or High House.)

The last time I was here to get work done, I got to party with Cardi B, along with everyone else on their balconies.

One time, I was having a girls’ night with my friend Becky (with the good hair).

Some guys two floors down and two balconies over saw us.

Dude 1: Hey Ladies!
Dude 2: You with the hair!
Dude 3: We’ve got weed. Come on down!

Becky and I are middle-aged women. We are not going to party with random guys — in a pandemic, no less.

But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t weirdly flattered.

Anyway, thanks for providing plenty of entertainment.

Love,
Beth

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Dear Prisoner No. 4, aka Gideon,

You know that saying, “Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time?” Well, in this case, you really didn’t do the crime. You are innocent.

That still doesn’t mean we can set you free, Smooth Criminal. You are incarcerated until we all get our test results.

The family that tests together stays together.

You did get time out of your cell for the testing, but that was not a good time for any of us.

Prisoner No. 4 submits to testing.

We all suffered. Dominic claimed it was “nasal rape.”

You certainly haven’t lost your sense of humor.

On the way home, we had this conversation:

Me: When we get home, I have to go out to buy more wine as someone didn’t follow the list.
Daddy: I thought it was a “pick one” list instead of a “get all.” What if I bought a bunch of wine, and you got mad?
Me: It’s like you don’t even know me. I would never get mad at too much wine.
You: That’s something an alcoholic would say.

Laughter ensued.

In a way, I suspect you are loving captivity.

You don’t have to do your chores.

You can eat in your room.

Your brother isn’t able to harass you.

And we’ve sort of made a joke of it.

Anyway, you can rejoin society (i.e., us) in 3-5 days when we get (negative, we hope) test results back.

Love you despite your record,
Mama

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Dear ‘Rona:

One of the things you have forced us all to do is to spend more time with the people in our house — for better or worse. I like to look on the bright side, so I’m trying to focus on the things I’ve enjoyed.

1. Playing board games with the family. Even the arguments have been fun.

We played Payday. The miser (aka Gideon) climbed to the top of the paper-money ladder.

Dominic played Monopoly for the first time and landed on Park Place his first trip around the board. Then he rolled snake eyes. Before long I was out on a corner with a cardboard sign (virtually, of course).

2. Playing video games with the family.

Mortal Kombat 10 doesn’t have Sindel? I’m out.

3. Playing games with friends via Houseparty.

This is (supposedly) a jaguar. Look: I know. Take it up with Royce. He drew it.

4. Harassing Dominic regularly.

“Lord, MAN! Please sit up straight. You are KILLING me.”

“Stop guzzling the orange juice. And shut the refrigerator door!”

5. Watching trashy reality shows with Gideon. (He’s my regular TV buddy.)

I like Jersey Shore Family Vacation this time of yee-ah!

6. Recreating trashy reality shows in the privacy of our own home.

Eddie set up “Love is Blind” in the garage as a fun treat for me.

7. Taking a road trip with Gideon, as he also is going crazy.

We went to Athens to visit the tree that owns itself. That’s right.

Look how happy we are to be outside!

8. Riding our bikes to the store.

My thighs were BURNING. That’s why we are walking the bikes. Y’all: I miss my Biddy Boot Camp at the Y.

9. Having time to color hair if asked.

Gideon wanted red hair.

So he got red hair.

10. Being ecstatic when someone else shaves his.

Doesn’t he look great?

11. Obeying social distancing rules with friend-who-is-nearly-family Kalen.

We are both rule followers.

12. Taking up new hobbies.

Hand knitting with chunky blanket yarn!

Two different blankets, two different stitches. When I take on a hobby, I TAKE ON A HOBBY!

See! I’m trying to stay positive in these trying times you caused.

But I can’t remain optimistic forever.

So please go away.

Thanks!
Beth

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Y’all:

I’m losing it.

I’m losing my mind.

I don’t know what day it is. Most of the time I can’t remember what month it is.

I used the wrong version of your/you’re in a text. I corrected myself before sending, but still.

It’s that bad.

I’ve finished Netflix. All of it.

I don’t want to watch TV anymore.

I don’t want to read.

I don’t want to cook; I’ve made enough food to feed everyone within a five-mile radius.

Now I’m setting goals that seem unusual even for me.

Look:

  • Finish my Greatest Boy Band Songs Ever playlist.
  • Make sure it features no more than two songs per band and is in chronological order by band.
  • Learn the choreography to “Bye Bye Bye.”
  • Wonder what happened to Color Me Badd.
  • Do some actual research and discover some shocking behavior on the part of the worse-for-wear Bryan K. Abrams.
  • Google the zodiac sign for Micky Dolenz. (He’s a Pisces. Of course.)
  • Make an exception to Point 2 for One Direction because Harry Styles.
  • Write a fan letter to Harry Styles.
  • Cut off some of my hair to send to Harry Styles.
  • Consider therapy to identify why I would do either of the two things above.
  • Consider therapy to identify why I would do any of the things on this list, really.
MmmHMMM. Call me, Harry.

Dear GOD. Who am I?

Send help.

Sincerely,
Beth, owner of a jello mind

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Dear Reckitt Benckiser:

I really wish I had Loefflered up and bought your stock before Coronavirus came calling.

But I never felt the need to bathe in Lysol before.

Look. Listen. You can’t be too careful.

I’ve created an airlock downstairs. Everything coming into the house gets wiped down or sprayed.

The mail too.

Everything.

Even people.

Dominic came in after work. (Yes, he has a job at Publix. No, I’m not thrilled he is going. He informed me he needs the money to hang out “wit da boys.” He means online via Doom.)

Me (from the couch): Did you spray yourself?
Him (sighing): Yes.
Me: Even your back?
(Sound of a little baby spray)

So we are going through plenty of your product. And there is a shortage. You are aware. We all are aware.

I’m waiting patiently, but my supply can’t last forever, even though it seems like this pandemic will.

Wishing you a speedy resupplying process.

Your sanitizing sentry,
Beth

 

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Dear Dominic,

If spending more time with you has shown me anything, it’s that you are incredibly resourceful — when you really want something. Specifically something you are not supposed to have.

If you don’t? You’re as helpless as Mr. Krabs molting.

Por ejemplo:

Your regular schoolwork dipshittery earned you a week without Wi-Fi for your various apparatus.

Though you pretend to be a Luddite, you certainly MacGyvered your way into connectivity. (I didn’t even know you knew what an Ethernet cable was or that we had one.)

But then you called for backup to find the lunch meat.

Lunch meat, Dominic.

Remember this conversation?

You (banging around in the refrigerator): There’s no meat!
Me: Yes, there is.
You (getting loud): No, there’s not!
Me (shockingly calm in the face of teenage attitude): Look in the drawer on the bottom left.
You (louder): I’m looking! All I see is a cabbage.
Me (sighing): Move the cabbage.
You: Oh.

“Move the cabbage.” It’s like the Coronacation version of “Who Moved My Cheese.”

I really hope this is just typical teenager behavior, and you’ll grow out of it. I am not a helicopter parent. I don’t plan to have you live with me forever.

You must learn to move the cabbage on your own.

Love,
Mama

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Hey all you cool cats and kittens!

I like to try to make people laugh. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I am Chandler. I like to pretend everything is OK.

Everything is not OK.

  • There’s so much uncertainty.
  • I don’t like staying at home.
  • I burned the gyoza I took so much time to make because I was preoccupied by being sad.
  • I’m rarely sad, so that was a surprise.
  • There’s a woman at work who hates me, and I don’t know why.
  • We don’t have any toilet paper. (I’m kidding. Old habits die hard.)

I miss working out. There: I said it. I know you’re shocked.

I miss all of you.

I miss normal life.

I took going out to see live music for granted. Going to restaurants. To festivals. To the beach. Seeing friends and family whenever I wanted.

I have so much to be thankful for:

  • I have a job.
  • I have a job I like.
  • I like my boss.
  • Eddie is a funny person.
  • He has a job.
  • The kids are great. Really!
  • None of us has the ‘Rona.
  • I have fantastic friends and family with whom I can chat via Zoom, Skype, Hangouts, What’s App and Houseparty. I have options!
  • And a bidet. 😉

But the reality is that none of us knows how long this will last. And the leadership in this country is woefully inept.

For example, Gov. Kemp opened the Georgia beaches, superseding more restrictive local orders. He also said he didn’t know sometimes people were asymptomatic. 🙄

Sigh.

It’s hard. It’s harder for some than for me, but let me have my moment.

I’ll be fine tomorrow.

Take care of yourselves. I love you all.
Beth

 

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Dear Aleen:

I don’t know but it’s SOMETHING, isn’t it?

I haven’t made banana bread in years, but I made some this week.

Why?

I don’t know. I guess I just had time.

Here’s a list of things I’ve made while in captivity:

1. The aforementioned banana bread. Sadly, without nuts. One of my cage mates ate all the walnuts and pecans we had and didn’t put them on the grocery list.

2. Black chickpea hummus with black garlic and preserved lemon. We are VERY FANCY in isolation.

Yes, it looks like poo. Trust me: It’s delicious.

3. Pasteles y arroz con gandules. Just like Abuela used to make.

4. Pernil. That takes four hours in the oven. Luckily, I have PLENTY of time.

5. Pork tamales. Labor intensive? Yes? Worth it? Also yes.

6. Red chili sauce for the above. You don’t like spicy things, you say? Good thing I didn’t invite you over.

7. Charro beans. Never made them, but I could have eaten the whole pot of them on my own.

8. Tapioca pudding. My mom used to make this all the time. I’ve never made it. I noticed a box of tapioca in the pantry. How did it get there? I don’t know. But Dominic is a huge fan, so I ended up making two batches.

9. Chicken Parmigiana. Again, something I’ve never made. It’s a wee bit of a pain. Would I make it again? Hell yes.

10. Gyoza. I learned from Miwa, the Gyoza Guru.

11. Many mixed drinks. Virtual happy hour begins at 5, y’all.

Chocolate chip cookies and Scotch eggs (to be consumed separately, of course) are on the agenda today.

I’m happy. Cage mates are happy. And I’m still holding steady at two points over ideal fighting weight.

So let’s have another helping of some pandemic comfort food.

Yours in culinary exploration,
Beth

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