Will they throw rotten tomatoes at my house after this week-end?

I came home to a message on my phone telling me that I was invited to be a judge in a neighborhood dessert competition this Saturday. After the glow of flattery had worn off, I began to consider my future in the community. They don’t hate me at this point. True, I missed the boat on the old-timers. I was one of the few women who had a full-time job and so I just didn’t get into the fun and games and gossip then. Round two is passing me by as well. There has been a significant turn-over in my block alone. I am one of the oldest now, having lived here since 1988. They all have kids, mine are up up and away.

But I like this new wave of fresh faces, even if I don’t always partake in their games and gatherings. Does anyone remember my post on the flamingos across the street (I’m talking February; please don’t look for it, it’s meandering and inconsequential)? My kind of people! Who else would have stuck the skinny plastic birds in all sorts of weird positions and then left them there until the snows began to melt?

So I want to show my thumbs up on the whole lot of them. I think well of so many of the individuals here; I don’t want to make enemies.

But now this judging thing has come along. How long will I survive if I reject someone’s famous apple pie? Or chunky chocolate chewies? It’s a no-win situation. I walk around, I sample, I look at the eager faces and what do I say, “it’s all good!” ??

It wont work. After showering praise on everything, I have to vote and select: number one and number two and number three. I know, I know, it doesn’t quite rise to the level of a Sophie’s choice-type dilemma, but on the other hand, people do get really invested in their baking. And to the non-winners I get to say –> not good enough. [Oh God, you don’t suppose I have to award the boobie prize as well, do I? And are there kids with fragile dispositions standing behind their goopy entries? ]

There is also the problem of eating it all. If I go to a winemaker and taste ten wines, I can spit nine out and walk away sober. It’s expected. I’m sure I’ll be allowed no such privilege here. Marshmallow madness with grape jelly? Bring it on! Peanut butter pumpkin pie? Yes, place it right here in front of me! I have to eat everything.

Oh, but how can one say no…I’ll survive this, I know I will. I am almost looking forward to the gluttony and the sugar high. And I’ll be sure to post afterwards. And hope that no one in the neighborhood reads my blog.

Deja vu

I tell myself that I will not start each day with a romp through headlines about the forthcoming elections and then, like a true addict, I wake up and click “display” rather than “delete” when I see a title that promises to put yet another spin on what November 2nd will bring about.

It is especially frustrating to subscribe to E-headlines from both the NYT and the IHT, because oftentimes the IHT will rerun an NYT story under a different title, so that not only am I depressed one day after reading it, I am, secondly, depressed again, based on the same content. How stupid is that?

It happened this morning when I read about the "stalled Kerry" in the IHT (here). Hey, it’s virtually the same story as the “On Labor Day, candidates have work to do” story from two days back (here), just doctored a little because we are no longer on Labor Day. And if you get to the end the second time around (and I did, just in case I missed something on first reading of it two days back) you get the same dismal line:

Republicans and Democrats say the biggest problem for Mr. Bush is the sense among Americans that the country is headed in the wrong direction.

Why dismal? Because if you believe that the country is completely off track, heading who knows where, and you STILL want to vote for the incumbent (as most, at this point, do), what hope is there in this world?

I’m rethinking my strategy. Tomorrow: no headline clicking. Unless it seems really important. Or optimistic. Or something.