Category Archives: observation


To preface: I am now married.  I am married to Joe.  It is likely that henceforth his name will appear in further entries.


Over the past four years I had slowly cut down on my meat intake, to the point where I realized I was only eating chicken breasts and lean turkey once or twice a week.  It wasn’t anything intentional–but after years of thinking under the guise of Weight Watchers, I no longer found the place in my food consumption for red meat.

This past weekend Joe and I headed to Costco for a leisurely Saturday of shopping in bulk.  We left with 8 pounds of ground beef and 2 pork loins.  I’d planned out this week’s menu, so we also had to make a stop at a grocery store for breakfast sausage, panchetta, and 5 pounds of chicken.  Stocking it into the fridge I realized I have never owned so much meat in my life.  The whole bottom shelf was full!

Mind you, it will take us many months to eat all that beef (thank goodness), as I’ve frozen most of it, but saw it as a testament of how marriage changes things.  Including diets.

And I hate to admit it, but I’m enjoying all the meat intake more than I had ever intended.

Dear Waistline,
Stay put.
Mrs. White


Filed under food, marriage, observation

No coat for you!

Every weekday morning at 6:15 am a man stands on a corner a few blocks down from my apartment waiting for his bus.  I seem him regularly when I leave my place for the day or on the way back from a run.  He is often courteous, responding warmly to my “good morning” greeting when we pass each other.

He usually wears a white over-sized t-shirt, a baseball cap, shorts, white sneakers and white crew-length socks.   Although this monotonous outfit doesn’t seem all that strange in July, I was puzzled when it was all he wore it in January.  Heading out for a 20 degree run, I donned multiple layers of clothing, mittens, and a stocking cap.  He had on a t-shirt and shorts.  I would see his shivers (convulsions) as he waited for the bus in the dark with no coat.

I assumed he was simply too poor to afford such necessities as a winter coat (or knee-high socks for that matter), but over the months I’ve noticed that his brand-name shoes remain unstained and the bling around his neck is always present.  How can a person appear so poor, yet afford designer attire?


Filed under observation