And I have four different types of pasta in my pantry—regular, whole wheat, Protein Plus, and chickpea. On any given night, when I want pasta, I never know which one to choose.
So you see why my relationship with pasta is complicated.
But it isn’t over.
Nobody divorces spaghetti.
Let’s Twist Again
Lisa
They say that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.
But they never met me.
I think it’s the definition of adorable.
Besides, I don’t do the same thing over and over—I do a different thing over and over.
Still it doesn’t work out.
Because I don’t work out.
I’m talking about the “Simply Fit Board—The Abs Legs Core Workout Board with a Twist.”
That’s the actual name of the product.
I didn’t make it up.
I’m not illiterate.
I use commas.
And I’m the kind of person you would buy that actually says in the corner, As Seen On TV.
I have officially become Mother Mary.
But I don’t blame her, I blame the election.
Because I had the news on most of the time during the election, and every commercial was either for a catheter, a copper waistband, or the Simply Fit Board, which is what we’ll call it for short. And their commercials showed really trim women swiveling on multicolored plastic boards, i.e., getting in shape in a fun way.
And also boring a hole in the rug, but never mind.
It seemed easy, and I thought it might make some sense since I never do anything for my waist, which seems to be melting.
My core lacks core values.
I’m always on a diet but I never seem to lose weight, and yoga doesn’t make me lose weight, even though now I can touch my toes.
Though I can’t see them over my belly.
When I watched the commercial for the Simply Fit Board, I realized the women were doing The Twist.
Please pretend you know what The Twist is.
Google it if you’re not sure. Search under, Mating Rituals of Ancient Peoples.
To save you the trouble, The Twist was a dance that people did back in the sixties, which became a dance craze.
You’re going to have to look up Dance Craze, too.
Again to save the trouble, a dance is something that people did before they had smartphones to entertain them.
These were the olden days, when people made eye contact and enjoyed each other’s company without taking even one selfie.
And a Dance Craze is a dance that goes viral.
The Twist was invented by a man who sang a song about it, and his name was Chubby Checker. Ironically, he was a little chubby even though he twisted all the time.
Evidently, he needed the Simply Fit Board!
So long story short, I thought the Simply Fit Board would make a nice addition to my collection of exercise equipment, which already includes an elliptical machine and a stationary bicycle, both of which remain remarkably stationary.
If not inert.
They’re not only unused but ignored, even though they are in my office and I have to trip over them to get to the computer.
So the last thing I needed was more exercise equipment, but I started thinking that maybe this is one I will use.
Hope springs eternal.
So do hips.
Plus the commercial was on so many times that I started believing it, especially in comparison with the catheter commercial. If you show me something enough times on TV, I’m going to want whatever it is, unless it’s a catheter.
So I ordered the Simply Fit Board, and when it came, it looked just like it did in the commercial. It’s a curved board made of hard plastic, in my case pink, and I was so excited that I took it out of the box, jumped right on it, and slid across the rug like a drunken surfer.
Before I fell on my butt.
It turns out you need balance.
But it doesn’t say on the box, Balance Not Included.
And the first thing that goes when you get older, right after your waistline, is your balance.
So I picked myself up, figured maybe I had done something wrong, and looked for the directions. Of course no product comes with directions anymore, which serves me right. I spent all of my life assembling things without using the directions, and now the world has called my bluff.
Ya happy now, Scottoline?
Then I dug deeper in the box, and at the bottom I found a DVD that said Workout DVD and User Guide on the cover. The only problem was I don’t have a DVD player anymore and none of my computers have a DVD slot.
So I went to the website, but it was geared to selling you the contraption and didn’t have any directions. Then I turned on the television, waited two seconds, and a commercial for Simply Fit Board came on, which was everything I had remembered.
I jumped back on the board and twisted my heart out, wobbling mightily, flailing my arms, almost tripping over, and finally falling off again.
Then I tried it barefoot and managed to stay on for two whole minutes.
But I couldn’t twist that long.
Next up, the Hula Hoop!
Don’t Bot with My Heart
Francesca
There is one Twitter account who has been toying with me for over a year.
The account is @WildBluePress, a publisher from Evergreen, Colorado. Nearly twelve thousand followers but following fewer than four hundred, so, discerning. I felt special when this account started following me. How had they found me? Through my writing? All the way from Colorado?
I was touched.
I followed back.
We seemed to have a lot in common. We were both in the book business. @WildBluePress favorited my animal welfare and disability rights tweets, so we agreed on the issues closest to my heart. And soon, I projected a host of wonderful traits and compatibilities onto the person behind this account, chief among them: Friendship.
Then one day I received another notification: “@WildBluePress is now following you!”
Don’t you mean, refollowing me?
This revealed it had unfollowed me, but when?
Did I say something wrong?
How long have you been feeling this way?
It was like one of those times when someone you’ve met many times forgets and reintroduces himself. I was the one who felt stupid.
This happens occasionally on social media, like those old, high-school friends on Facebook whom I know I was friends with in the past, who pop up as fresh friend requests.
Thought better of it, eh?
I accept their requests, but I note it. You weren’t that nice to me in high school and you unfriended me in college, but then you see my name on a couple books and suddenly you want to be all buddy-buddy again.
I refriend, but I don’t forget.
See, on social media you can get away with ghosting a conversation or relationship without word. But if you want to get away with it, you can never refriend or refollow. That’s what the “mute” function is for.
But I wasn’t mad at @WildBluePress, I was hurt.
Which I know is silly. Social media isn’t real. Twitter is such a jumble, I’d never notice when someone unfollows me.
My own mother didn’t follow me on Instagram, and neither of us realized for four years.