pet peeves - Barbara Delinsky

May 16, 2012

Do you talk to yourself?

Do you? I mean, out loud?

I didn’t used to. Only deranged people talk aloud to themselves, right? But there are certain circumstances now when I find myself doing it.

Like when I carry two super-heavy bags of groceries in from the car and heave them onto the kitchen counter. Okay, I grunt in relief when the first hits. Okay, I grunt when the second lands beside it.

I also talk to myself in times of frustration, like when someone cuts me off in traffic. You imbecile, I mutter under my breath, often using a more rude word than imbecile, but since I’m talking to myself, myself isn’t shocked. Are you in such a *** rush that you can’t be civil?

March 14, 2012

Why do I blog?

Let me make one thing clear. I don’t blog to express a political opinion. As a novelist, my taking a stand on anything political or religious is disastrous. When I talked here last week about civil discourse, it was to vent not about what we say but how we say it.

So there you go – one reason why I blog. I blog to vent about something, be it civil discourse, airport security, or plastic bags.

But there are other reasons. I mean, it’s not like I’m sitting around with nothing to do. I have to put blogging on my calendar, or else it gets lost in the shuffle of the daily writing, in this case, of Sweet Salt Air.

March 9, 2012

Why is everyone talking at once?

Call me old fashioned, but I want to hear what other people have to say, which is why I hate it when I hear voices talking over each other. It’s disrespectful. It’s impolite. It’s deafening.

But, of course, that’s the point. Those voices don’t want to hear other voices. They think theirs is the only voice that matters. It’s the only one that’s right.

Did I peg it? Is this what’s wrong with our political system right now? And I’m talking both sides of the aisle – so if you’re going to accuse me of being a leftist from Massachusetts, save your breath. I’m one woman who believes in freedom for all.

February 13, 2012

The humiliation of airport security

I fly often and am pretty immune to security demands, but yesterday was the worst. My husband and I were going through security at Reagan National in Washington, D.C. I had loaded the bins with my coat, my scarf, my boots, and my liquids. When I approached the scanner, the security guard (male) indicated that I should remove my sweater as well.

The sweater – oversized in that it fell to my thighs, but not thick – was my clothing. Beneath it, I wore thin leggings and an even thinner layering tee shirt. I would never, ever leave my house in the leggings and tee shirt alone.

December 8, 2011

Little things that drive me crazy

I really, really want to complain about something, but I have a personal rule. It started when my son went to college and, during those first weeks of adjustment, too often called with complaints. I finally told him that for every bad thing, he had to first tell me something good. That’s my rule. So here goes. Today’s subject is packaging.

The good. I keep reusable bags my backseat and have trained myself to take them with me into the supermarket. The bad. If I have more groceries than bags, I ask for paper, which I then reuse to collect trash in my house. Blithely, the bagger puts my excess groceries in plastic bags. Four of them.