POOG

As I encounter situations in my day-to-day life, I like to think “What would Gwyneth Paltrow do?” and then do something else.  So maybe MY lifestyle blog will be called POOG.  Although, honestly, GOOP is a pretty stupid name, too.

Today was an excellent POOG day. 

Amy had to take a party-sized portion of oatmeal to school for a potluck breakfast, and I didn’t want her to take the huge, heavy crock pot that she had cooked it in overnight.

I decided to decant the oatmeal into a tortilla keeper, an ugly theoretically insulated extruded plastic thing that I got at Smart & Final.  I secured the lid with some purple duct tape.  Then I wrapped the tortilla keeper in a beach towel for extra insulation.  I used one of those kiddie towels with an animal hood and tail – in this case that of an orange fox.  The whole thing went into an extremely ratty canvas bag, and off I sent my baby, with one of the jankest looking potluck contributions I have ever seen.

Then it was time for healthful exercise.  My friend Colleen and I walked around her neighborhood and checked out her neighbor’s giant agave, which has finally bloomed.

My friend Alison texted me while I was walking and invited me to join her at the Indian restaurant over by my favorite Goodwill.  So I went home, let the dog out, and loaded my car with my latest dubious discarded clothing and household items.

The Indian place has delicious food but no public restroom.  After lunch I went next door to sneak into the restroom in the BevMo, as is my usual habit, but they have apparently had some unpleasant plumbing issues at the BevMo, so now you have to get a red-aproned employee to unlock the restroom door. 

Back in the parking lot, I paused to finish the Sudoku in the daily newspaper, but I had eaten a fair amount of Malai Kofta, and I fell asleep.  After a refreshing car nap, I was ready for Goodwill.  But I had to use the restroom again, and I was too embarrassed to go back into the BevMo, so I drove down the street to the Best Buy, where you can still sneak into the restroom unaided.

I dropped off my donations in the Goodwill bins, and then had a most enjoyable two hours perusing the racks of clothing inside.

We are fortunate to live in an area with many immigrant families, and as a result we have a terrific assortment of odd donated clothing from around the globe in the Goodwill.

I found a pieced gray t-shirt, size 90 (?), adorned with screen printed sketches of women’s faces, but only on the right shoulder.  I love it.  Sometimes when I encounter a particularly strange item, I laugh out loud, I can’t help myself.  It’s like seeing a truly bad movie – it’s kind of awe-inspiring to think how many people’s lives intersected to make this terrible thing.

There were leftovers in the fridge, so I declined to cook anything new for dinner and left the family to fend for themselves.  As for me, I had a plate of tortilla chips with some left-over book group cheese and a glass of cold gin.  Me and my daughters watched “To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before”, a cornball Netflix teen movie.

Eat your heart out, Gwynie.