Good Housekeeping

On Sunday morning, I got up at the crack of 10:30, made myself a pot of coffee, went to heat some milk and discovered that the gas had gone out. I then (accidentally) knocked over the coffee pot, spilled the contents all over the top of the stove, got disgusted, and left the whole mess to be dealt with after I'd calmed myself with the "Vows" section of the New York Times.

Seriously, nothing soothes my nerves like reading about the matings of the rich and famous. Or the just rich. On Sunday, I soon forgot about the coffee that was dripping down the front of the stove and puddling on the kitchen floor as I read about the Juan Mendez/Beth Formidoni nuptuals.

They'd met when Mr. Mendez "took a few hours away from a long evening of work to join a birthday dinner for Suellen Ratliff, a friend since they had worked together on a war crimes tribunal in The Hague two years earlier. The only other celebrator was Elizabeth Marlyn Formidoni, a pert blond law associate with a big anchovy and capers pizza."

I was imagining that I too, might one day make a friend while working on a war crimes tribunal (although I'm not sure what I would actually do on a war crimes tribunal, and what if the friend I made turned out to be a war criminal?) and wondering whether the big anchovy and capers pizza was a meal or if Ms. Formidoni wore it on her pert blond head, when my doorbell rang.

It was my landlord. And the guy from the gas company. They were fixing the gas and wanted to see if it was working.

What could I do? I led them into the kitchen where my landlord somehow managed to light the burners on my stove (they looked like perfectly round islands floating in a dark roasted sea). Then the gas guy (OH THE HORROR!) went into my storage cupboard to check my water heater and knocked over my entire fall/winter collection of empty booze bottles.

How could I return to my reading after that? The contrast between the squalor in my kitchen and the life of the new Mrs. Mendez was heartbreaking. Even when I read that she'd "given up her job as an associate in the New York office of the law firm of McDermott Will & Emery to indulge her passion for food," I knew it didn't mean she'd spend the next three months trying out every flavor of Delvita-brand bottled pasta sauce, which is what I've been doing since I quit my job.

No, I must face the harsh reality: I am no Elizabeth Marlyn Formidoni-Mendez.

And I really should clean that coffee up.