The Super Bowl may now begin
Ventured up into the dark, dank wasteland that is our attic yesterday to retrieve the foam Chicago Bears paw from years past, only to find that the paw is showing its age and could really use a manicure.
Poor ring finger talon has a wicked hangnail!
All is well though. She may not be pretty, but this environmentally (and now biologically) unsound piece of sports paraphernalia has seen a lot of great Bears games (notice I didn’t say ‘wins’) in its time. So, hopefully that good mojo will carry on over to a Bears victory over the Colts. Peyton who?
Raaawwwr!
Life lessons I’m learning from American Idol
1. When someone claims to have “moves,” immediately divert your eyes.
2. Crazy people often don’t wear bras or, in the case of men, other supportive chest devices.
3. The amount of eyeliner a person is wearing is directly proportional to how badly said person will perform, and subsequently, how entertaining their audition will be to the average at-home viewer.
4. Mission should be aborted at any mention of Celine Dion or songs written for girlfirend or boyfriends.
5. Wow, it feels good to be me.
A word for the true American Idol fans out there
“Footloose.”
Or if you prefer two words, “Disco Inferno.”
All I See’s is chocolate
So, right before the holiday break, one of our vendors sent us a box of See’s chocolates. This box of “Nuts & Chews” to be exact.
And I know this because the few nuggets of chocolate gold I tasted from that box are permanently melted into my now swooning, pining taste buds.
Being tragically tied to my Midwestern chocolate roots, my only experiences with boxed chocolate have been with Fannie May and Godiva. Not horrible specimen per se— after all, the Fannie May Trinidad can tame the fiercest of sweet teeth. But now that I See’s the light, they all pale in comparison. And I won’t even stoop to dignify the Russell Stover or Whitman’s schlock I’ve endured over the years. Waxy and utterly unmentionable. Blech.
What I want to know is: how I have spent the last 35 years of life without these delicious candies? I am not even that big of a candy freak, but I can’t seem to shake this See’s craving. Your constant craving is like a weak, pitiful passing fancy compared to my lust for See’s chocolates, Kd Lang.
The real kicker of this entire situation is that I just spent 8 hours in the San Diego airport avoiding the See’s chocolate stands that were taunting me in every terminal. Why? Why!?! Why did I have to decide to take the high road and punish myself? Just because I had gorged myself on disgustingly rich, five course meals for a week on the cruise? I clearly hate myself. So yes, I showed great restraint but now I am paying the price dearly.
This has all now lead me to stalking these candies online.
This venus flytrap of a site tells me the company was founded in 1921 in Sahn Francisco (my homage to Amy Roloff).
It also informs me I can have a box immediately delivered, and they even have a Quality Discount Store. Judas Priest, they are relentless! It also mentions that See’s Candies are a “Happy Habit®”
Why yes, I can see that.
It’s the exact reason I went running in San Diego.
And why they are banned from my life forever.
I curse you Mary See.
The revenge of the ms Oosterdam
We have been off the ship for approximately 14 hours now, and our sea legs still haven’t managed to firm up yet. Everything in sight is undulating as if floating on a sea of non-existent waves. Inanimate objects are bobbing up and down. Up and down. Up. Down. It’s like reverse motion sickness. It’s the souvenir I didn’t want. It’s crazy. And it’s annoying. When will we go back to normal? And why has the 24/7 feeding frenzy stopped? We’re seriously suffering great withdrawal symptoms from the lack of the all-day all-night Lido Deck buffet.
Damnit. I’ve turned into one of them.
Update: It’s now been a full 24 hours, and I’m still stumbling around like a drunk. I guess my brain and body adapted to being on the water, and now have to readapt to being on solid ground again. The fancy pants term for it is mal de debarquement (barbeque? did someone say bbq?!), and this page, though informative, is boring as hell*. All you really need to know is that the rocking sensation can take up to months or years to correct! Hmm. So… I’m thinking I can call in sick for this tomorrow, right?
*This page, on the otherhand, is hilariously written. Please see the section about vomiting underwater. Because it’s not easy. Vomiting underwater, that is.
