I have been driving a lot in the city, despite not owning a car. I rent from this place that asks little to no questions about why I keep renting sedans for 6 hours at a time and I prefer it that way. But I learned this weekend I have what many would call eXtrEme rOaD rAge. If you asked me before this weekend if I have road rage, I would say no, of course I don’t, I barely drive! But I guess it’s just been lingering beneath the surface this whole time. After being in traffic for only 26 minutes, I found myself screaming obscenities I’d never said aloud in my life…. phrases like “horse fucker” and “pig shitter”… screaming these things in a Kia while trying to make a left on Broadway, the busiest street in the USA. Something is off balance. Maybe I need to eat more wheat.
This week’s passions include: reading murder mysteries on the train platform, finishing a bottle of vitamins, white dip, and sweaty hugs.
These days the train platforms are so hot. I used to live near an R train, which had the best AC, and now I live off a 123 train, which has the worst AC. I was finding myself getting grumpy and agitated the minute I walked down those train platform stairs. But then I started reading murder mysteries on the train. When I’m reading a murder mystery, even a bad one, I stop thinking about when the lukewarm train is going to get there and start thinking about who killed Jasmine (someone killed Jasmine) and it makes the wait time zip by, even as I feel the individual beads of sweat rolling down my back.
For a long time, I didn’t know it was possible to finish a bottle of vitamins. I thought you were supposed to take a few, forget about them, and eventually throw them out once they all fused together and formed one large bottle-shaped super vitamin. I was wrong. Over the last few months, I’ve finished TWO bottles of vitamins. One was even an economy pack which meant 150% more vitamins. I can’t believe it, and I still don’t even know if vitamins work, but I feel really proactive health-wise. Physically, I feel no different. But I can proudly say the vitamins are inside my body and not fused together in the garbage.
There is a white dip that has dill in it and it’s not tzatziki and it might be ranch, but I’ve only ever seen it in summertime and it’s awesome. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. It’s got the consistency of ultra hold hair gel. Usually it’s served with Ruffles, which is physically the strongest national brand of chip. I’ve never bought this white dip because I don’t know what it’s called but I generally eat it at barbecues. The white dip always blows me away. It’s not liquid, it’s not solid, and it’s a powerhouse of flavor.
As I mentioned above, I have back sweat. But no matter the season, people are always going in for hugs. In temperatures like these, I’m afraid I’ll be the only damp one, but recently I’ve learned no one is safe. Everyone is damp. And so in a way everyone is safe. Whoever I hug, they feel my damp, I feel theirs, it’s a community of damp.
And now some from the readers…
Abbey: “This week I’m passionate about borrowing cookbooks from the library. Cookbooks are so fun to browse through but they are also expensive. And ultimately I really don’t cook that much! So now I can check out a cookbook, look at the yummy pictures, maybe copy down one recipe then return it and get a new one next week.”
Wade: “Cereal Drink. I've recently had to quit all caffeine beverages for my tummy. In my search for alternatives I came across a barley, rye, and chicory powdered drink. It's as delicious as a cup of liquid grain can be. I won't reveal the brand name here but the technical name is 'Cereal Drink'. Mmm, cereal drink!”
Brett: “Jo, your correct and good passion for Kerrygold made me want to share with you my sneaky adoration for a cheap secret that I don't tell people who I cook for. I'm ashamed, but maybe if I let this secret out via the estimable Jo Firestone blog, I can hide less. Country Crock margarine is goddamned perfect as a cooking additive. Make mashed potatoes with Country Crock, salt to taste, and tell me that you haven't learned a new way that potatoes were always intended to have existed. Or put it on toast. Who am I.”
Patrick: I’m passionate about having permission to snoop, which is different from plain old snooping. Now, anyone can snoop. Neighbors. Friends. Coworkers. You. Me. When you’re snooping and you don’t have permission to snoop, you’re tinged with a sense of guilt. Deep in your bones you know it’s not okay to snoop but, well, that’s also what makes it exciting. I was about to enter a chaotic Costco in downtown Seattle. I pulled a giant shopping cart out and noticed a small black notebook someone left in the cart. I brought the black notebook home with me and realized if I wanted to get it back to its owner, I had to look through it. I had permission to snoop! It was filled with long grocery lists and dates and locations. One of them was “clambake. Vashon. June 30th.” I spotted a full name and number. I called the clambake lady and left a voice message explaining how I found this notebook with her name in it. I suspected it was for a chef. The clambake lady left me a long voice message the next day confirming that yes, the black notebook did belong to a chef she’d hired for a clambake on Vashon Island. In the message she said, “so let me know if it’s OK for me to give him your phone number.” Why would I NOT want to give him my phone number? Like I’m gonna say, “Yeah, you know what? I don’t feel comfortable with a chef in Seattle having my phone number so, no. I only feel comfortable talking with you, the clambake lady from Vashon. You must be our go-between.” He texted me to ask when he could come by to pick it up and - PLOT TWIST! - I wasn’t going to be home for a few days because I was heading to VASHON ISLAND! I gave him the address and sent a photo of the mailbox I’d placed his notebook in. He thanked me. A few days later when I got home I checked the mailbox and the chef’s black notebook was gone.
Plot twist! Vashon Island!,
Jo