Is it just me, or does the fact that the Twins start their schedule a day later than every team in the big leagues seem like a horrible omen for the 2006 season? Essentially, we are in last place before we even see a pitch that matters this year—it’s a puzzler. And it’s not just the MLB schedules that bug me these days—the SATs, the sacrosanct way in which we can all measure ourselves against each other, has been tainted by water-logged test sheets that the score-readers can’t measure accurately. Our president preaches at us about democracy in Iraq and then contests the outcomes of the Iraqi democratic process. Apparently global warming is a myth, and yet I have the unsettling feeling that the earth is hurtling out of orbit and falling into the sun and our government is keeping this a secret. Huey Newton’s widow has trademarked the phrase “burn, baby burn” for use in her barbecue sauce business. The World Wrestling Federation changed its name to World Wrestling Entertainment after the World Wildlife Fund sued it over the moniker WWF. Forty-two percent of all shared files online are pornographic, yet not a single case has been brought to court contesting sex-vid file-swapping. The Village People refused to let its songs be used for a documentary about gay lifestyle, citing in court filings its desire to be thought of as mainstream. We used to be able to trust anyone under the age of thirty, now I’m forty-four and I don’t trust anyone.

Regardless of my mood, which is cynically turning blacker with each moment today, I am buoyantly jubilant about Seder next week. I feel better already just thinking about food. I have just ordered my goodies from back home because there are no good Jewish delis here in town. I take Passover very seriously from a food standpoint, and while I am making everything from scratch except the gefilte fish, which we order from Citarella on Broadway, I take the opportunity to get my favorite goodies flown in to snack on all week: bialys and blintzes, smoked fish and whitefish salad from Barney Greengrass, pickled lox in cream sauce, and fresh salmon roe from Russ & Daughters, and anything I can get my mitts on from Zabar’s.

Am I eating my feelings? Does it matter? I feel better already.