If I were a superhero, this would be my weakness... Current mood: guilty
I have sort of a deep dark secret. It's as if I had been a heroine addict many moons ago. I had gone through a rehab of sorts, and found my inner strength to suppress the inner demon. I had overcome this addiction. I never allowed myself to be in the same place with this substance. I had admitted my problem and believed that I had no power over it other than pure abstinence. I had really over come the hardest part of it. I was able to resist it on any occasion.
Friday, I was tested, and I failed. I can't really blame Publix. They have tempted me before with their "buy one get one free" bins of shame. It was shopping with the Devil's Advocate in the form of my husband that tricked me. I put up no fight at all. "Huh, look at that. Pringles has a loaded baked potato flavor." I mean, seriously, what was I supposed to do? Besides get two. I was fine in the store. We went down each of the isles with ease, picking out other food stuffs that we would enjoy the week through. It was at the checkout line that I started to notice a change. I watched the tall slender can as it made it was down the conveyor belt and I watch it go into it plastic bag. I then took note of the place that it was rested in the cart.
Once in the parking lot my husband started to load the groceries into the cart. I spotted the bag containing the can of Pringles emerge and my hand shot out, as if possessed. Taking the can and ripping the plastic top off and then the seal, my unknowing husband says, "you can't even wait 'til we get home, huh?" It was then that I looked at him with pitty. I had somehow managed to keep this from him. "No," I said, "this is coming with me." Getting into the driver's seat I was appalled by how easy the can slid into my cup holder. I can only compare what happened next to a sort of sci-fi assimilation. Like when the humans are turned to Borg, Cybermen, or Daleks. I was now part human and part mechanical drinking bird. My arm was not my own, traveling up and down from the can to my mouth. The part of me that was still human was trying to explain (between chips) the experience to my poor husband. I tried to explain that I was powerless against this monster. I wanted to stop, but I couldn't control it. All the two of us could do was wait for the can to be empty.
I am now again on the road to recovery. My husband understands that we can't buy Pringles anymore. So I leave you with this. You may have, in the past, seen a group of kids with the "fever for the flavor of a pringles." This may have seemed like a harmless marketing gimmick. I want you to watch it now, and see the pain it their eyes for the addiction not yet understood by society. I think a support group is in order.
Here are the rules: Once you have been tagged you have to write a blog with 15 weird or random things, facts, or habits about yourself. At the end, you choose 5 people to be tagged, list their names, and why you chose them to be tagged. Don't forget to leave a comment that says, "You are tagged" on their profile and to read your latest blog.
1. The thing at the bottom of a banana (that you pick off) is banana poop. 2. I don't like closed closets or office doors before 8 am because I'm scared of the dead body behind the door. 3. I've most likely been to more sci-fi conventions than my husband. 4. I can only use a towel once. 5. I love the smell of clean sheets. I only own one set because I would rather wear one set out rather than fold a second set. 6. I think that if I watch bible tv, and I change the channel, god knows. It does not please HIM. 7. I like to run. 8. When Lynn and I are like 95 years old we're gonna rob a bank. Just for kicks. (Please don't tell. It will ruin the fun) 9. I can't stand cake. Most of you know this, but most forget. 10. When I was little I thought the rear view mirror was the re-view mirror because it re-viewed what you already passed. 11. I have like 15 things of deodorant and I hide them in various places in my cars or purses. I don't know why but I always forget this part of my morning. So I have to go straight to a grocery store or pharmacy right when I leave the house and buy more to put on right them. 12. My parents used to take me to school really early in the morning and I used to think that the moon was God's car, and he was driving along with us. 13. I also used to contemplate concrete car tires and rubber roads. 14. I rock the air violin. 15. When I parallel park I go in head first. I find this works best for me.
I wish that I were able to change the channel. It's in the morning on a day off when I have to go to work late that I am overcome by this. I will watch whatever channel has on Rachel Ray's new talk show and then Tyra. I HATE these two shows. I really do. I promise. They make me sick and I scoff constantly while they are on. The only reason that I can think of to allow these show to take presence in my home is that I'm usually doing something else and I want to make sure that if I have something on in the background it's not too interesting. Then I will find myself watching TV instead of doing whatever it is I'm supposed to be doing. Why not leave the TV off? I don't know! Stop it with the questions!
The coolest thing that Mena got for Easter was this little egg that you put in water. Over time (like 4 days) it actually hatches. Pieces of the egg crack and fall off and the little animal inside pokes out and eventually breaks itself free (this last part is an assumption, I would not know the truth because my husband shook the egg and it's water so violently that the egg fell off). Anyway, now we have this duck, free from its water and it egg. It is sitting on my sink. Lemme tell you what. This sucker kind of stinks. Mena sure does want to play with it. She has since the beginning. I told her it had to dry, and now that it has it stinks like mildew. So today, while she is at school I'm going to break her heart and throw the duck in the trash. Maybe I'll tell her he went to the lake, because that's where ducks live. I don't know.
So I'm giving flavored water another chance. I got some lemonade crystal light, which is always a safe bet. I also got some pomegranate something. Well the bottle of water was too full with water. Did I drink just a little bit to make rooms for the flavor pack? Not so much. It's just powder. It should just fall in without much displacement. You should be able to just pour it in and the weight of the powder should just push the powder into the water. No, I didn't take physics. It didn't really turn out like I had hoped. A knife (a logical tool for forcing flavor into a water bottle) and a spill and five paper towels later, I had red water. Well as a service to you few who read this. I am putting out a warning. The picture does it no justice. It will stain your skin like nothing I have ever seen. My husband thought upon entering the kitchen after this battle with the flavor pack that I had been cut badly enough to warrant a hospital visit.
I love my three-year-old, but geez. This past week we went to eat at Jackson's Bar and Grill (or something like that) in Soho. It was very trendy and fun. They had a lot of the skinny, dirty little bartenders that I remember from the restaurant scene from back in the day. They serve really random things on their menu, like fried twinkis and smores. I made several mistakes that evening. 1) This place was not going to be a good environment for a three-year old. 2) We should have sat inside away from the very tempting fountain. 3) A three-year old needs to be confined to a booth. That's just a fact. She did pretty good considering the circumstances, but we all passed out from exhaustion about 15 minutes after we got home.
Friday, after I got off work at 9:30, we drove to Lake Martin. We had a Saturday wedding to go to and we all wanted to get there early. I have somewhere in my memory a distant vision of what a vacation used to be. I still think that this vision might be attainable, but alas.
We arrived at this gorgeous house at like 11:30. Being in a strange house I watched a movie with Mena in bed as she was trying to fall asleep. Once sleep finally came, she wet the bed. This was a like 2. Oh, and when I say bed, I mean me too. So, we had to strip the bed, change clothes and then transfer ourselves to this window seat that is large ennough to be a bed for Mena. I stress Mena in tha tlast sentence, because it was not long enough for me. Did I sleep there anyways? Oh I was there. Not so much sleeping, but I was there.
Anyway the wedding was the next day in the evening. It was outside at another lake house. It had been cloudy all day, but it managed to rain right when the ceremony started. Everyone ran under a gazebo, and they completed the service. Mena was so excited the whole time, totally convinced she was in the presence of royalty. After chasing her around for an hour we went back to the house. John went back to the wedding and said that a small electrical panel outside the house caught fire and they had to call the fire department. Talk about stuff going wrong! The wedding party did have their pictures take with the whole fire team before they left. It will sure make for good memories.
So I'm totally obsessed with Amy Winehouse. I love her sound, but I was a little sad to see her on Best Week Ever throwing up and doing a bad cover of Michael Jackson's "Bad". I still think she's pretty badass, and if I get reincarnated I'd like to give her life a spin.
So I'm just starting to break into the nerdy work of podcasts. So far I've only been introduced to Diggnation (funny funny) TWIT (informative) Tiki Bar (funny) and This American Life (radio show and new tv show on showtime). Anyone else podcasting or vipoding? This type of stuff is excellent for road trips. It make take a little more organization to listen on a regular basis. Anyway, I'm a newb.
Sorry this wasn't really funny or entertaining, sometime you just gotta gripe, and talk about nothing in particular.
If I could set the mood to yellow it would nt be because I'm scared. Current mood: aggravated Category: Blogging
First let us ponder the avocado. In my former life, working in coffee shops I made guacamole on a regular basis. With pounds and pounds of avocados at my disposal, I found it easy to make the substance through trial and error. You see, the avocado is ripe for like 5 minutes of it life. When it is not in its 5 minutes of ripe time it is dancing the fine line between tasty and nasty. Some of this dance involves a paper bag, but lets stick to the story. I bought some "RIPE NOW" avocados at Whole Foods a week ago, thinking "I would love some guacamole. It would be also very tasty on a sandwich for lunch." I, of course, did NOT buy any of the other ingredients I would need. Since I am secretly the laziest person on the planet (please don't tell) I did finally make it to the store a day or so later to get the lime and tomato I would need to complete the vegetable portion of the recipe. Excited about makin' me some guac' I would soon discover that indeed my avocados were no longer "RIPE NOW." They had moved on to Nasty Rotten Now. SO, a day or so later I trucked it down to Winn Dixie and got some more avocados. These were not of the "RIPE NOW" variety, but they had a slight give on the exterior. I figured they'd be fine the next day. It was yesterday after long consideration, that I decided it was time. They felt slightly squishy, but not mushy. I cut them, my knife easily running through them (I would later find out this was due to the fact that I have kick ass knives), but the seeds seemed a little stubborn. No bother, I was not to be deterred. After about 10 minuted of attempting a spoon, and then my fingernails to remove the skin (all the while cursing like Yosemite Sam) I started to think that I had acted too soon. Still I had become a sort of guacamole monster. I was unable to stop the events that happened next. After I had most of the green in the bowl I attempted the tool from this former job that had been bequeathed to me. It is much like a potato masher, but it has holes. This would not work, so I brought out the knife that had mislead me earlier. I proceeded to cut the avacado in the bowl much like someone would stir whipped cream. When that wouldn't work I overturned the bowl onto the cutting board and started to chop it like one would chop herbs. During which I narrowly missed cutting off one of my fingers. I only grazed it. This didn't even slow me down. Once I had chopped it (still cursing like Yosemite Sam), I started adding the other ingredients like nothing had happened. The lime (stung like the blazes in my new wound) and the tomato went into the bowl, along with some spices. Then it was time to taste. I was probably as good as crazy at this point. I proceeded to make two sandwiches (one for lunch and one for dinner) and I sat down to eat my lunch. Half way through it reality hit me. It was garbage. The avocados were clearly not ripe and it was like eating slimy rocks. It makes me sick to think about it. I still put it in a container in the fridge, because I'm in denial.
Not to trout Francesca, but I would like to take this moment to vent about the current state in Alabama. If you've not been to Alabama, you may not know that it is the prettiest state I have even seen in my life (we're talking landscape, people). It has some of the biggest trees I've ever seen, and the most lush grass everywhere. The flowers this time of year are absolutely breathtaking. For mother nature to achieve such a feat of beauty, we are given a month of yellow. I, for one, am not allergic to the beast, pollen. It does not effect my health in any way. It does how ever effect everything else. I will illustrate this by recounting my morning thus far. Upon stepping outside I noticed that my car, yes my white honda civic, was now yellow. Walking to my car Mena and I made foot prints in the yellow driveway. Leaning on the car Mena turned her black pants, yellow. I would run my wiper fluid, but my windshield wipers are rotted (but yesterday I turned my wiper fluid bright yellow when I attempted to clear my windows). We drove past the house with the aluminum roof that was now yellow. When I got home, I made noticed I had made tire tracks in my yellow driveway. There is a fine yellow dust IN my car, because I use my air conditioner. There is nothing to be done. If you try to get it off it will be back in minutes. Francesca said it best when she called it the "great equalizer." If all we can derive from it is pain and sorrow, us middle class citizens can drive around and secretly laugh at the Hummer, the Porche, the Lexus SUV, all yellow, just like us.
Long time coming. I'm just a girl, part two. Current mood: happy
Ask and ye shall receive. Seek and ye shall find. Knock and the door shall be opened unto you. Hallelujah.
Yesterday was a day of stockroom magic. Now that we have our fourth manager, Carrie, we are all able to take turns in the stockroom doing projects and whatnot. Yesterday was my first day back there in quite a while, and I was in uber-project mode. After doing several other projects I chose to tackle the attic. This is where we keep all of our empty boxes for merchandise that is on the floor and also all of our visual magic type things. These are things like sign holders, plate stands, plastic carrots, extra shelves and the like. I was putting some very long grass in a bucket with other bundles of very long grass when my face came in contact with a piece of metal that I had not noticed protruding out at eye level. There is a very large sign that is supposed to hold a poster wedged in the corner, but it was upside-down and the feet were sticking straight up. It was my right eyebrow that located the leg, and I was actually quite stunned when my face bounced off it. I felt kind of like I was under attack. It hurt so bad that I had to put my arm over my eyes and rest my head on of the shelves nearby. Besides that pain from my eyebrow I was overcome with yet another runny nose (see the incident in the car in the blog "I'm just a girl") and an overwhelming urge to pee. If you've know me for any amount of time you know I am not over come with this urge often, so I found it quite shocking. I was initially disappointed. He I was yet again with another horrifying injury and nothing to show for it. But sure enough on a trip down to the bathroom later that day I got my reward. I had blood! A nice little drop, right on my eyebrow. I wiped it away with sad regret, knowing that only I had seen it, but I was rewarded again! A cut! It's a full 1/4 inch cut. Totally awesome. I would take a picture of it, but it really not that impressive to look at.
Just to further reward myself I tripped coming out of Mena's school today and totally ate pavement. Skinned knees and hands. Total package. The fall was much less graceful than I would have liked, but no witnesses.
I'm just a girl. Current mood: disappointed Category: Blogging
So I closed (again) at work tonight, and I have to open tomorrow. So instead of cutting my morning family time short, I decided to go to the grocery store tonight after work. I had to get refreshments for the bridal event tomorrow. Don't ask. Anyway, when I left the store and walked out into the the parking lot, it started to rain. Right then, rain. So I yelped a little and then jogged to my car. I did the key fumble, managed to get the door open and threw the groceries across to the passenger side. As I was sitting down I noticed the seat belt sitting in the area where the door would soon be closing. So, in an attempt to not get any more wet (cause I might melt), I grabbed part of the belt and tried to fling the rest of it into the car. Oh I flung it alright. I flung that seat belt buckle right into my nose. Now I'm a girl, by birth, and a passive one at that. I've never been punched in the nose. So this is a little new to me. It immediately started running. So, naturally, I had to stick my finger in my nose (several times) to check for blood. This kinda of stuff always happens to me when no one is watching. Some would say this was a good thing, but I know my nose isn't broken. I'm pretty sure it won't even bruise. What's the point then, I ask you? What's the point of wacking yourself in the face with a belt buckle if you have nothing to show for it in the morning. So I leave this experience feeling mostly... disappointed.
The Thing from the Fire Swamp Current mood: thankful Category: Blogging
So, I closed last night at work. That puts me driving home at about 9:30 last night. I really don't like closing so I rush a little bit to get home so I can see John for five minutes before he goes to sleep. If you have EVER ridden in a car with me you could call me a careful driver. You could talk and talk, but I rarely take my eyes off the road for conversation purposes. This is mainly because I am driven by my most terrifying fear, turning an animal into road kill. It has been known that on occasion I might put the lives of my passengers at risk to avoid any small animal. So, needless to say that slammed on my brakes and swerved when my car was charged by a possum a block away from my house last night. I will say it looked less like a possum and more like the thing from the fire swamp. As the contents of my car went crashing into my front seat I came to a stop in the middle of the road. Not know if I had heard the dreaded "bump" of death, I inched forward. I got far enough up that I could look into my rear view mirror and see that there was no thing from the fire swamp carcass. I felt instant relief, but as I progressed down the final row of houses and turned into the driveway, I wondered. I had heard stories of possums jumping when surprised by cars. Had this possum jumped? Had he maybe jumped into the underbumper of my car? I don't know much about possum aerobatics. So, when I got home I parked almost at the bottom of the driveway, and got out of the car. I walked around the front of the car (a safe ten feet away), and listened. I heard a "sssssss." Could be car, could be thing from the fire swamp, either way I trucked it (pretty fast) into the house. I remember what that thing did to Carey Elwais' shoulder, and I am not on board that train. Anyway, the situation seems to have resolved itself, and the car got me to the gym and back this morning with no problems.
Now I would like to share with you a life long dream. One of my favorite movies of all time is Girls Just Want to Have Fun. I'm not going to lie, I think I have it memorized. Anyway, I am on the search for a Dance Tv T-shirt. I need your help, reader. If you see one please let me know. If you have forgotten (or are maybe unaware) of the magic of this movie have I have included a clip. It dictates one of the best rules of child rearing. If you want a baby to sit still, put it on a pizza. amen.
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