Tag: observations

Every Package Is Resealable

It seems that almost every package I get these days is resealable. We bought a bag of tortilla chips that comes in a resealable package. Cheese slices and shredded cheese come in resealable packages. The M&Ms I keep in my desk drawer comes in a resealable package. Resealable packages are all the rage.

And I mean rage. I can never get the resealable packages to work right. I am not alone. The Little Miss asked if she could open the bag of tortilla chips the other day. Sure, I said. When I found the bag later, she’d opened the resealable package the old-fashioned way, completely circumventing the resealable part, effectively nullifying it.

Many of the resealable packages tell you to “tear here” to open. When I do this, I find that “here” is either too high or two low. Too high requires pulling scissors from the drawer to cut the strip enough to separate the parts that allow you to pull the seal open. Too low, the physical of separating the seal are almost impossible.

Sometimes, I rip open the resealable package only to discover that I ripped both sides of the seal off one side of the package, rendering the seal useless.

Sealing a resealable package is almost as difficult as opening one. I can never seem to align the seals with one another to get a clean grip. I run my finger along the seam only to find that the package is not sealed at all. I do this two or three times, and finally, take a zip-lock back out of the drawer and put the resealable package in the zip lock bag.

There are some packages that would seem to benefit from being resealable, but so far I haven’t seen any. Boxes of cereal come with that bag inside that is impossible get open. Once open, it is difficult to close it in a way to keep the contents fresh. You’d think the cereal people would come up with resealable cereal packaging. The wrap that a head of lettuce comes in would be worth investigation. I rarely use a full head of lettuce at once, preferring to tear off some leaves to put on a sandwich. Getting that head of lettuce back into the plastic film is difficult.

Junk mail would benefit from resealable packaging. When you open one of those envelopes that looks like it is handwritten, but it is really someone trying to fool you into thinking it a personal letter, it would be nice to reseal it and mail it back to the sender, postage due.

Soda cans and other carbonated beverages would benefit from being resealable. Sometimes, I don’t want an entire can of soda, just a sip or two. If I put the can back in the refrigerator, it goes flat after a day. It would be nice to have resealable soda cans.

On the whole, I’m not really sure what benefit a resealable package provides that I can’t get from old-fashioned packaging. On the side of our refrigerator are a number of clips. We use these clips to keep non-resealable packages sealed. I never have a problem with the clips. There is no cutting or tearing, no frustration when trying to reseal a package.

Some Things I’ve Noticed While Stuck at Home

Our bathroom has a shower curtain with images of butterflies on it. We’ve lived in this house close to two years, and this is the first time I’ve noticed the shower curtain. What is the purpose of butterflies on shower curtains? At the old house we had a shower curtain with images of plants on it. Beneath each plant was the Latin name for the plant. Why would anyone think of putting Latin names of plants on a shower curtain? Is there a process an artist goes through to submit their work for consideration on a shower curtain? I’d be curious to know what those rejection slips look like.

Our butterfly shower curtain
Our butterfly shower curtain

At night, on the ceiling above our bed, there is a strange shadow for which I have unable to locate the source. It looks almost like branches spread out on the ceiling. Waking in the middle of the night, I once thought it was cracks, but in the day, the ceiling looks perfectly normal.

There is a crack in the lid of the yard waste bin that we almost never use. Because we rarely use it, I rarely look inside. After a few months, I noticed that the bin was halfway full of rainwater. I empty the bin, and promptly forget about it, until we need it to collect some leaves, at which point, the thing won’t budge because it is once again half-full of rainwater.

All of our light switches have both an on and off position, but it seem that no one but me ever uses the “off” switch. Several times a day, I go on what I like to call “light patrol.” I walk through the house, upstairs and down, extinguishing light in my wake. I think this is good for the environment (to say nothing of our electricity bill), but I feel kind of like Ron Weasley fooling around with his deluminator.

Despite how cozy our house feels in the winter, I always seem to find the one drafty spot to sit and work.

Downstairs is always colder than upstairs. It doesn’t matter what time of year. I realize that heat rises, but I’d’ve thought by now someone would have figured out how to evenly heat or cool a house regardless of the laws of physics.

I like the top blanket on the guest bed better than the top blanket on our bed. In pre-pandemic days, when we had guests, I was always jealous of their blanket. Now, I lay awake at night debating whether or not I should get up and switch the blankets. It always ends up seeming like too much work.

We have a hundred pillows in this house and not a single matching pillow case. Not a single matching pillow for that matter. I can never find the pillows I like because they are always dressed differently and end up on someone else’s bed.

We have a bunch of smart outlets that we use for Christmas light during the holidays. I have failed to find a use for these smart outlets when the holidays end. I leave them there, taunting me, daring me to find something to plug into them. I can never come up with anything. Next year, I think I’ll pack them away with the Christmas lights. Of course, a few days after that I’ll come up with the perfect use, but by then it will be too late. I won’t want go fishing in the back of that closet.

The hardwood floors creak louder at night when walking on them than they do during the day. It’s like they are sending out the alarm, “Alert! Alert! He’s up for a midnight snack again!”

The handle for the freezer side of our refrigerator bumps into the counter, and prevents the door from opening wide enough to get a frozen pizza in or out without a lot extra effort.

Whenever I try to pull two Q-Tips out of the jar we keep them in, I always end up with a third dangling between the two.

I’ve tried everything to curb the forest of wires that has grown underneath my desk. It’s like ivy on the side of a building. I can’t stand the sight of the tangled mess. Part of the problem is that my desk has a glass surface. I think if I replaced my desk with one with an opaque surface, I could solve the problem. At least then, I wouldn’t be able to see the wires.

Our landline rings 5 or 6 times a day. We never answer it. We sometimes use it for outgoing calls, but never incoming. You’d think that would stop people from calling, but everyday I see the same number appear at roughly the same time. I don’t even think I’ve checked the voicemail box in almost two years.

The kids are always loudest when I am in the middle of an important meeting.

The door to the closet with all of the cleaning stuff in it is nearly impossible to close. Across the hall, the door to the utility room is easy to close, but opens by itself not long after closing it.

It recently occurred to me that all of the cleaning stuff is stored in location that is mathematically the furthest distance in the house from anything that requires cleaning.

Observations on the variance of water temperatures

When the hot/cold knob in the shower is "off" it points to 6 o’clock.  To turn it on, one twists it counterclockwise.

Observation:  at 6:40 AM to obtain my preferred level of hotness, I have to twist the knob to 9 o’clock.

Observation:  at 7:50 PM to obtain same hotness, I have to twist the knob to 11 o’clock.

Please note:  this carefully crafted entry has three purposes:

  1. To provide observations about the varying water temperature in my shower.
  2. To provide kruppenheimer  with the kind of trivia she has come to expect from this blog.
  3. To provide strausmouse  with four sentences that he will purposely misinterpret.

Observations from 36,000 ft

It is 10 PM Eastern time and I am sitting in seat 2B in the First Class cabin of United 307 from Baltimore, Maryland to Los Angeles, California. I have been sitting here for just shy of four hours and I have exactly two hours to go, if everything is on time. I am bored out of my mind. I thought I would take this opportunity to list some observations.

1. Looking around an airport terminal, you can always tell the most important people by the thickness of their cellular phones. The most important people have the thickest phones. They have to be thick to hold the extended life battery pack so that they can be on the phone all of the time. That’s how important they are.

1a. The most important people in the airport terminal also walk around with those ridiculous-looking BlueTooth headsets. This is a corrolary of #1 above.

2. There are two places in which it is particularly inconvenient to get a stomach ache: stuck in traffic, or stuck at 35,000 feet.

3. If you are ever stuck at 35,000 feet with a stomach ache and the flight attendant offers you an ice cream sundae with chocolate syrup and whipped cream, you should refuse it. Accepting the dish of ice cream only makes matters worse.

4. First Class on United is not what it used to be. The napkins used to be cloth. Now they are thick paper.

5. Most people who fly First Class on United have probably upgraded using miles or upgrade credits. No one in their right mind would actually pay for this.

6. I like airplane bathrooms. They bring out the claustrophillia in me.

7. On United, you can listen to air traffic control on channel 9 on your headset. On long flights like this, it seems that no matter how often I check air traffic control to see how we are progressing, we always seem to be somewhere over Kansas.

8. No one in First Class seem to be using laptops. However, everyone in coach seems to be working. I’m not sure what this says, but it seems somehow significant.

9. If there is so much more leg room in First Class, then why do my legs feel cramped up?

10. Laptop battery power decreases in inverse proportion to my level of boredom. As I get increasingly bored, my laptop seems to run–