The Things I Regret Without Fail, But Always Do Again
Someone wise and superior once said “stupidity is the failure to learn from your mistakes”.
- Discount lettuce. Good intentions combined with fundamentally cheap buying strategy = salad that’s never actually going to happen. Because that clamshell of baby spinach will sit on the bottom of the fridge for exactly 2 hours before it starts turning into soggy, soupy broth that resembles nothing at all salad-like.
- Indian Buffet. When fresh, homemade salad invariably doesn’t happen, there’s Indian buffet. And if I eat it without rice, it’s pretty much like eating paleo (i think. I’m not actually sure what that means except that it possibly has something to do with not eating grains) and therefore I can eat everything.
- Movie popcorn. There is no way I’m ordering it without ‘butter’. There is no way I’m going to just eat a few pieces. It’s dark, nobody is looking…no one’s gonna judge how I volume-shove handfuls of greasy, greasy popcorn in my face….how I stick my tongue into the bag for faster popcorn-to-mouth action…how I pick the stray pieces that have somehow, amazingly missed my mouth out of my bra and shove those into my face too. There is no way I’m not going to leave the movie theater full of self-loathing with a mouth that feels like it’s been turned inside-out from all the salt. And yet….I do it again. And again.
- The last cocktail of the evening. I’m hilarious. I’m lookin’ fabulous. The bartender thinks I’m a scream, and every guy in the bar is staring at me. That last Lemon Drop went down way too fast. I think probably my friend drank it while I wasn’t looking, and since I didn’t eat anything anyway, one more is basically like calorie-free. I should treat myself.
- Late night, drunken Facebook message. Or text. Or both, because if one is a good idea, both is a fabulous idea and if someone isn’t answering their texts, it’s probably because they’re waiting to hear from you on Facebook. Besides, I’m both hilarious and beautiful and also charming. And full of wit. Who WOULDN’T want to hear from me?
- My continued attempts to learn La Vie en Rose on my shitty, out of tune accordion. I think it actually drove our last dog into an early grave. God, he hated the sound of that thing. It makes my children hysterical with rage, which I find funny. Especially if I’ve had a couple of beers, which, let’s face it, is the best time to play accordion badly.
As I said, someone wise and superior once said “stupidity is the failure to learn from your mistakes”. (I think. I mean, that seems right, doesn’t it?) And while I don’t necessarily think of myself as stupid, based on this definition I clearly am.