My Planet by Mary Roach
Category: eBooks
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- date: 14 January 2024
- posted by: AD-TEAM
epub | 510.22 KB | English | Isbn:9781621450719 | Author: Mary Roach | Year: 2013
Description:
From acclaimed, New York Times best-selling author Mary Roach comes the complete collection of her "My Planet" articles published in Reader's Digest. She was a hit columnist in the magazine, and this book features the articles she wrote in that time. Insightful and hilarious, Mary explores the ins and outs of the modern world: marriage, friends, family, food, technology, customer service, dental floss, and ants—she leaves no element of the American experience unchecked for its inherent paradoxes, pleasures, and foibles.
On Cleanliness:
Ed has crud vision, and I don't. I don't notice filth. Ed sees it everywhere. I am reasonably convinced that Ed can actually see bacteria. . . . He confessed he didn't like me using his bathrobe because I'd wear it while sitting on the toilet.
"It's not like it goes in the water," I protested, though if you counted the sash as part of the robe, this wasn't strictly true.
On the Internet:
The Internet is a boon for hypochondriacs like me. Right now, for instance, I'm feeling a shooting pain on the side of my neck. A Web search produces five matches, the first three for a condition called Arnold-Chiari Malformation.
While my husband, Ed, reads over my shoulder, I recite symptoms from the list. "'General clumsiness' and 'general imbalance,'" I say, as though announcing arrivals at the Marine Corps Ball. "'Difficulty driving,' 'lack of taste,' 'difficulty feeling feet on ground.'"
"Those aren't symptoms," says Ed. "Those are your character flaws."
On Fashion:
My husband recently made me try on a bikini. A bikini is not so much a garment as a cloth-based reminder that your parts have been migrating all these years. My waist, I realized that day in the dressing ro
On Cleanliness:
Ed has crud vision, and I don't. I don't notice filth. Ed sees it everywhere. I am reasonably convinced that Ed can actually see bacteria. . . . He confessed he didn't like me using his bathrobe because I'd wear it while sitting on the toilet.
"It's not like it goes in the water," I protested, though if you counted the sash as part of the robe, this wasn't strictly true.
On the Internet:
The Internet is a boon for hypochondriacs like me. Right now, for instance, I'm feeling a shooting pain on the side of my neck. A Web search produces five matches, the first three for a condition called Arnold-Chiari Malformation.
While my husband, Ed, reads over my shoulder, I recite symptoms from the list. "'General clumsiness' and 'general imbalance,'" I say, as though announcing arrivals at the Marine Corps Ball. "'Difficulty driving,' 'lack of taste,' 'difficulty feeling feet on ground.'"
"Those aren't symptoms," says Ed. "Those are your character flaws."
On Fashion:
My husband recently made me try on a bikini. A bikini is not so much a garment as a cloth-based reminder that your parts have been migrating all these years. My waist, I realized that day in the dressing ro
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