If I fail at everything else in my life, I'll always be able to say I knew my way around a pop machine.
"Pop machine?" You ask.
"YES!!! A pop machine!!! I love them. When I see them, my heart beats faster."
But there's this one pop machine lately that has really been testing me. I can't work her out. She eats my money. She eats it twice a week. I've tried chatting with her, telling her jokes, not talking at all, tickling her, or not looking at her directly in case she's the shy type.
But she just won't give in to me. She won't give me the trick to getting my pop every day, every time. If she keeps it up, I may have to call her mother. By mother, I mean the phone number that is listed on her front.
Pop machines. They inexplicably make me nostalgic. They remind me of being 12 and not being allowed to drink pop so my sister and I would ride our bikes to the grocery store and spend 40 cents (YEAH, I SAID 40 CENTS) on a pepsi and then ride our bikes home and hide the cans down our pants, cringing and screeching at how cold they were against our skin as we crept back up to our rooms. If upon our arrival, our mom couldn't be avoided, one person would hide both cans in her pants while the other created a diversion. Sitting her thinking about it, I miss my sister more than ever. I also miss 40 cent pops.
I love pop machines. I worship them. I am a slave to their ability to provide my drug at a moment's notice. But they can break your heart. The cruel words, "sold out." The moment after you insert your dollar and you don't hear that satisfying click and you know your dollar is gone forever. The moment when you realize you are a nickel short. Oh yes, they can break your heart. And they'll do it just to remind you that they are in charge. Or something.
In other news, everyone here calls it soda and I hate it. I find it offensive.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
Nothing in particular
WebMD tells me I have sinusitis. That doesn't even sound real. Sinusitis means I have bacteria or fungi residing in my sinus cavities. This grosses me out quite a lot. Sort of like the time the dentist told me that my wisdom teeth had impacted my sinus cavities and when he pulled them out, there was a possibility that food would come out my nose. Grosssssssssss. Basically due to my sinusitis I spend my days imagining those green blobs from the Mucinex commercials residing in my face. One can only hope their mucus blobs have New Jersey accents and carry suitcases.
**I trust WebMD implicitly. It never occurs to me to visit an actual doctor. The only thing I've discovered cures my sinusitis headache is eating. Can you believe it???? If you know me, you can believe it. This weekend I had an absolute feast. feast, I tell you. But guess what? I cooked it all. Almost. Because, guess what????? I can cook now. Did you know that?? Probably not. Because last time you were in a kitchen with me you probably witnessed me struggling to operate even the microwave, and keeping a solid 10 feet between me and the stove. Alas. Times have changed. I am a kitchen whiz.
While being a kitchen whiz and eating for 48 hours straight, I created for myself a "Christmas Omelet." I named it "Christmas" because of the colors involved: peppadew peppers, spinach, and goat cheese. Red, Green, and White. Divine. Capital D. Make it for yourself next time you have an omelet hankering. get the peppadews from the olive bar.
SO, as I was making this Christmas omelet (I wish I took pictures for my blog...it really was a thing of beauty) I realized that Christmas is round the corner. HUSH, I know. It's not Halloween yet. BUT. Hello. Thanksgiving is in like, a month. It can't be already. You know what I'm more excited for than Thanksgiving or Christmas this year? Harry Potter 7, Pt I. People talk about days they will remember for the rest of their lives: weddings, birth of their child, graduations, etc. I think that November 19, the date Part I is released, will be one of those days for me. One that I will include in my own personal lifetime achievement scrapbook. "Do you actually have a lifetime achievement scrapbook?" you ask. "Perhaps. But keep taking that tone with me and you'll never be allowed to see it," I snap.
I don't know if the last two sentences can be diagnosed in some psychological way. Probably.
In other news: this weekend I also made potato pancakes which were really top drawer (top drawer is truly one of my favorite ways to say something is awesome. It is the top draweriest way to note something is best, in my opinion). Also, I found the tiny corner of my apartment where I get reception. If I huddle in the corner, as close to the window as my body will let me, I will receive your phone calls. Success.
This is probably my worst ever.
What is in my face: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jgh-sR2hxb4
**I trust WebMD implicitly. It never occurs to me to visit an actual doctor. The only thing I've discovered cures my sinusitis headache is eating. Can you believe it???? If you know me, you can believe it. This weekend I had an absolute feast. feast, I tell you. But guess what? I cooked it all. Almost. Because, guess what????? I can cook now. Did you know that?? Probably not. Because last time you were in a kitchen with me you probably witnessed me struggling to operate even the microwave, and keeping a solid 10 feet between me and the stove. Alas. Times have changed. I am a kitchen whiz.
While being a kitchen whiz and eating for 48 hours straight, I created for myself a "Christmas Omelet." I named it "Christmas" because of the colors involved: peppadew peppers, spinach, and goat cheese. Red, Green, and White. Divine. Capital D. Make it for yourself next time you have an omelet hankering. get the peppadews from the olive bar.
SO, as I was making this Christmas omelet (I wish I took pictures for my blog...it really was a thing of beauty) I realized that Christmas is round the corner. HUSH, I know. It's not Halloween yet. BUT. Hello. Thanksgiving is in like, a month. It can't be already. You know what I'm more excited for than Thanksgiving or Christmas this year? Harry Potter 7, Pt I. People talk about days they will remember for the rest of their lives: weddings, birth of their child, graduations, etc. I think that November 19, the date Part I is released, will be one of those days for me. One that I will include in my own personal lifetime achievement scrapbook. "Do you actually have a lifetime achievement scrapbook?" you ask. "Perhaps. But keep taking that tone with me and you'll never be allowed to see it," I snap.
I don't know if the last two sentences can be diagnosed in some psychological way. Probably.
In other news: this weekend I also made potato pancakes which were really top drawer (top drawer is truly one of my favorite ways to say something is awesome. It is the top draweriest way to note something is best, in my opinion). Also, I found the tiny corner of my apartment where I get reception. If I huddle in the corner, as close to the window as my body will let me, I will receive your phone calls. Success.
This is probably my worst ever.
What is in my face: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jgh-sR2hxb4
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Acute Viral Rhinopharyngitis: A Love Story.
An Excellent Cure for the Common Cold:
Wine. And lots of it.
If you have already tried Dayquil, Sudafed, Vicks, and whatever else over the counter medication you can find and still feel miserable, I recommend doing the following: Consuming a few over the counter remedies and then going on a wine tour of Seneca Lake. This will do several things. First, you will get drunk extremely quickly (make sure you have a driver). Second, your drunkenness will lead to some of the strangest dreams imaginable. Much like Bill Cosby experiences when he eats sandwiches too close to his bedtime.
Another thing that will probably happen is you will meet some bikers. Don't ask me to explain what bikers are doing in wine country. They probably just like their wine like any other regular person. But don't worry, when you drop your glass and splash some of your beverage on their leather chaps, they won't be angry. They will instead go to the bar and get you a damp towel and then start chatting with you about their wife. They will also start asking you where you are staying. Keep in mind that you are telling a strange biker where you are sleeping at night. Think. Then respond.
After you've met the bikers, you will probably have at least half a dozen encounters with bachelorette/bachelor parties. They will be loud and screechy and shockingly, mostly in their 30s and 40s. You will then have a perfectly reasonable conversation with a nice man regarding the reality and scientific fact of river monsters, and why you never go swimming anywhere you can't see your feet. You might even try and explain the recurring dream you had about Jaws when you were seven years old. You might.
At some point during the day you might get hungry and buy the following things: Buffalo jerky, pickles, vindaloo curry dipping sauce, and a falafel salad. You won't be able to explain any of these purchases but you will want nothing more than to dive face first into a vat of each item. Especially the vindaloo.
When you complete your day, the wine will be wearing off and you will be searching for congestion relief yet again. I recommend drinking half a bottle of cough medicine, cranking the air conditioning in your hotel, and watching HBO until you are yet again, unconscious.
Summary: Another excellent weekend excursion.
Wine. And lots of it.
If you have already tried Dayquil, Sudafed, Vicks, and whatever else over the counter medication you can find and still feel miserable, I recommend doing the following: Consuming a few over the counter remedies and then going on a wine tour of Seneca Lake. This will do several things. First, you will get drunk extremely quickly (make sure you have a driver). Second, your drunkenness will lead to some of the strangest dreams imaginable. Much like Bill Cosby experiences when he eats sandwiches too close to his bedtime.
Another thing that will probably happen is you will meet some bikers. Don't ask me to explain what bikers are doing in wine country. They probably just like their wine like any other regular person. But don't worry, when you drop your glass and splash some of your beverage on their leather chaps, they won't be angry. They will instead go to the bar and get you a damp towel and then start chatting with you about their wife. They will also start asking you where you are staying. Keep in mind that you are telling a strange biker where you are sleeping at night. Think. Then respond.
After you've met the bikers, you will probably have at least half a dozen encounters with bachelorette/bachelor parties. They will be loud and screechy and shockingly, mostly in their 30s and 40s. You will then have a perfectly reasonable conversation with a nice man regarding the reality and scientific fact of river monsters, and why you never go swimming anywhere you can't see your feet. You might even try and explain the recurring dream you had about Jaws when you were seven years old. You might.
At some point during the day you might get hungry and buy the following things: Buffalo jerky, pickles, vindaloo curry dipping sauce, and a falafel salad. You won't be able to explain any of these purchases but you will want nothing more than to dive face first into a vat of each item. Especially the vindaloo.
When you complete your day, the wine will be wearing off and you will be searching for congestion relief yet again. I recommend drinking half a bottle of cough medicine, cranking the air conditioning in your hotel, and watching HBO until you are yet again, unconscious.
Summary: Another excellent weekend excursion.
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