The BetsyG-Spot

Finally, no politics, except to say that the word from abroad is thumbs up. I have a couple of pen pals in Europe and they seem pleased with the affable, intelligent man we’ve elected president. I also have optimism about his character and what that alone will do for our country.

I know I am weird about this, but the whole “first black president” thing eludes me. It just isn’t a surprise to me. I always figured we’d have a black president before a woman, and a woman before a Jew. (Do you think this country would elect a Jew? Never. Neh-ver.) Perhaps because I’ve seen black presidents in film (Fifth Element leaps to mind), the image is already familiar to me. Not shocking at all. (Tell me Colin Powell wouldn’t have gone all the way if he’d wanted to.)

I’m fairly certain I’m not speaking for all though.

I was rereading one of earlier posts, Downhill, about snow skiing and the potential for humiliation. A reader commented and mentioned her own difficulties skiing, which reminded me of one of the more embarrassing and ridiculous disasters that befell me on the slopes. Well, not quite on the slopes.

It was my first time at Vail, just a few years ago, when I was taking “never-ever” lessons. We were practicing on a small incline that required not a lift but a magic carpet—a moveable sidewalk—to ascend. To mount the carpet requires timing not unlike that needed to get on an escalator, but of course you have four feet of snow ski in front of you, and two feet behind, and that complicates things.

I hadn’t been having much difficulty with it, though, until I fell. Falling on a moving sidewalk with skis on is nothing like falling in the snow with skis on, or really like falling anywhere. And I wasn’t clever enough to fall forward or sideways, but backwards, not quite on my butt, but in a crab position. Standing was impossible. Rolling over was impossible. Doing anything but staying with my skis glued to the carpet, hands behind me was impossible. And so I waited, crab that I was, until finally the instructor saw my plight, stopped the lift, and pulled me to standing.

That was one ugly fall.

Earlier I also wrote about the foods I ate while on the Alli plan, including the marvelous Yoga bread, by The Baker. At the time, I stated it was expensive but worth it. Then it was $4.29 for a 20 ounce loaf. Shortly after, it seemed the loaf was smaller—though the price stayed the same—and when I remembered to check, I realized the loaf was now 18 ounces. So there had been what amounted to a 10% increase in price. That is one big increase. But I loved my Yoga bread, so I kept buying it.

Yesterday I went shopping at the too-expensive store in town, which is the only place I’ve found that carries the Yoga bread. Now the price was $4.49! So it had gone up almost another 5%. All of this since June.

Needless to say (or do I need to say it?), I am not buying this bread anymore. Talk about the fisherman’s wife. Too much. I have found I like When Pigs Fly’s Harvest Bread, which is ounce-per-ounce less expensive (though still expensive) and not quite as delicious, but good enough.

The other thing I wanted to mention was one of these “light dawns” things that hit me. As you may recall, Bob broke up with me out of the blue about a month ago. One of the things that was galling about it was that we’d spent the weekend together with nary a word to suggest a problem. But worse than that, I couldn’t understand why he would have come over during the day for “lunch” just one week before he broke up with me. It seemed to me he was so anxious to see me that he made the effort to find time during the work day. So that contributed to the weirdness of his breaking up with me.

As I was telling someone this story the other day, it suddenly occurred to me: he’d likely come to break up with me, not to check out the new Jeanie chair. Once in my presence, he couldn’t bring himself to take that particular plunge, and then he was stuck with me for the weekend and still couldn’t do it…which is why he finally did it over the phone.

Just a guess. I may be slow, but I’m not stupid. Here’s the Jeanie chair, to refresh you, and yes it is as awesome as all that.

Well, I am very overworked this week. Spent the whole day yesterday moving my life over to a new e-mail address (it’s actually more complicated than that—one e-mail address for friends, another for work folks, but I also am probably registered on 50 web sites for various reasons, at least it seemed like that many). Today I finally have my new Comcast internet connection, but my ex is going to need to come to reprogram the router so that all the computers can get on. My 16-year-old is going crazy: seven hours of no internet.

And on that note, as I drift off to sleep, fingers on keyboard, I say, have a great weekend, and thanks for reading. Oh, and to my e-mail subscribers, I know I didn’t receive Monday’s post (probably due to daylight saving’s time), so if you didn’t and want to read it, it’s here: Write, or Wrong?.