I eat a lot of junk food. Well, what others call 'junk food', but I call snacks. I'm lucky. It doesn't affect my weight. I know, you hate me, but I really couldn't live without it.
Since I eat so much of it, I consider myself an expert. Yes, yes I am. Shut up! I am!
Here's a rundown of what I think are the best choices of the available brands. I guess I don't have to mention that the best nacho cheese tortilla chips are Doritos, right? I mean, we all get that. They really have no competition.
On with our show...
Best cheese curls: Wise Cheese Doodles
Why? They are not too crisp - many brands are - and not horribly salty (you hear me Cheetos?). They have the perfect amount of finger-licking powder. My friend calls cheese curls packing peanuts with orange spray paint, but what does she know?
Best cheese popcorn: Kroger brand
What? Yeah, that's what I said. Get some, see if you doubt me. My sister doubted me. Now, when she comes to town, she doesn't say, "Hey, I'm here!" She says, "Did someone pick up cheese popcorn?" Seriously.
Best guacamole dip: AvoClassic
Who? Try looking it up for a post when you can't remember the name! I finally found the name, then a website. The packaging has changed, but this is real guacamole dip. This isn't paste in a can with some green food colouring. You'll find it in the refrigerated section, sometimes near produce. It may be hard to find, but you won't regret it.
Best tortillas: Utz White Corn Tortillas
Stop arguing! I'm right! These chips are my newest favourite. I used to love yellow corn chips, but for some reason everyone, save the generics, has gone to white corn. These are light, bubbly chips. They don't hold up to heavy dips, but they don't shred the inside of you mouth like Tostitos Scoops. Those are like a mouthful of razor blades!
Best Nacho Cheese Dip: Fritos Jalapeno Cheddar
Seriously? Yes. It's in a tiny can, usually hanging somewhere in the chip aisle. It doesn't taste like paste with a little bit of spice in it. It tastes like jalapeno dip. It will spoil, so don't forget to put the lid back on and put it in the frig.
Best Onion Dip: Your own
No fair! Sorry, but you have to get some sour cream and french onion soup mix. There are no short-cuts for french onion dip. Everything I've ever tried tasted like mayonnaise. I've tried jarred ones, refrigerated ones. I'm not a huge fan of onion dip, but I tried a few and couldn't find any worth buying again.
Best Bizarre Chips: Pringles!!! 
Bizarre? Oh, yeah! The Pringles guys are nuts. They come out with the most unusual temporary flavours. I will buy any flavour they put out. They have an amazing talent for making their chips taste like exactly what they say they'll taste like. I've had Bruschetta, Thai Sweet Chili, Extreme Dill, Smoked Bacon ...only once did I find one that wasn't great - Extreme Cheddar, it tasted like wet paper. I don't buy the printed ones, and I don't like barbeque chips. Anything else they put out, I will try. I'm not the only one. Check out this site. And, down a little ways on this page.
I didn't save the cans. Part of me wishes I had. Part of me is glad I have my sanity.
I was helping someone clean out old stuff yesterday. I found this card under the bed.
I have it on my keyboard. I love it! I think it's from some game, because the back says Hasbro, Inc., but I don't want to know what game.
It makes me smile. It makes no sense. Like some type of odd apology card.
You couldn't give a card with that written on it, in this day, but wouldn't it be interesting to print up cards with unusual sentences on them and leave them places? A bit like anonymous mail art.
"I never loved you, but I always wished I had."
"Once, I had a bunny. I named him bunny."
Random thoughts. They would have to have a common flip-side. I guess that would identify the author. You could even have a name or URL on the back. Oh no, now some advertiser will do it, and we'll all find these really bizarre cards and it will turn out to be a promotion for beer, or online insurance. Please, don't. Artists, writers, and creative types with no real reason except mischief, okay?
I also put up a bit of flashing. If you've never had the pleasure of working with flashing, it's like a rolled razor blade. It will cut you, deeply, if you are not completely focused. I was wearing my leather work-gloves - they must be stiff, hard to bend leather - and I took one off, because I was having trouble using the tin snips with it on. Quick as a wink, the flashing flipped around and cut my finger. It wasn't too bad. It spurted blood like crazy, but wasn't big enough for a stitch.
Imagine working with a live rattlesnake. Every second, you must pay attention. You must respect and fear the snake. It will strike at any opportunity. This is flashing.
But, flashing is shiny. Oooooo.... shiny!
My Mom: I don't get what that show is about.
Me: It's about a guy who died 400 years ago, and an Indian lady put a spell on him. He can never die, until he finds his true love.
My Mom: He's been looking for his true love for 400 years?
Me: Yes.
My Mom: He's pickier than you are.
I was burning a CD today. David Gray's White Ladder. I need a spare copy of my CD, incase anything happens to my original. Right now, I can't live without this CD. Seriously.
I opened a new pack of CD's and took the UPC/security thing off the wrapping. It was still sticky. If something is still sticky, it must be stuck to something. It's a rule. So, I stuck it to the center of my forehead and promptly forgot about it.
I burned the CD, tested it. Yes! I will never be without White Ladder. Buy this CD.
Go now. You won't regret it.
A while later, someone came by and I talked to them for a while. They left. I walked past a mirror and noticed I still have the UPC thing on the center of my forehead. My friend didn't say anything. They didn't stare at my forehead. Didn't ask me what was up with the thing on my head. I can't decide if this is a good, or bad thing.
How weird am I, that I can stick a UPC thing right in the center of my forehead and it passes as 'the usual'?
I never expect the glitter. My sister's daughter was the first girly-girl I ever witnessed. My sister was never girly - not a tomboy, but never pink and glitter. None of my friends were pink and glitter. Most of them were the geeky smart kids.
I really thought the glitter-pink girls were a minority. Maybe, when I was fourteen we were still coming out of the whole 'woman's movement', so girls weren't allowed/encouraged to be pink?
I saw an ad for a Tonka truck thing, and the pitch line was something like, 'Boys are made different'. Imagine saying that in the seventies, when the woman's movement tried to make everyone believe we were all equal in strenghts and weaknesses. They seriously pushed the belief that boys and girls were born the same, and it was what we taught them that made them like dolls or trucks.
I guess it ended when one of the libbers had a boy, and he yanked off his doll's arm and pretended it was a gun. :)
memories of summer lie
scattered
drifting and curling on a breeze
more brilliant, though fragile and threadbare
I love fall. I love the cool air and the colours of the leaves. I love that Orion comes up high enough for me to see him.
I have trouble driving in fall. I don't like driving. I simply do not trust anyone else on the road. I've seen too many stupid things happen, so driving is frightening. I do some stupid things myself.
The leaves are so pretty.
Where is Orion?
That cloud looks like a fluffy, old-fashioned telephone, with someone talking on it.
The moon is huge! Wait, where did it go? Is that it behind those trees?
Look at that sunset!
I shouldn't be trusted on the road. I need someone who enjoys driving. Not just driving. They have to enjoy driving and having someone ramble on about everything that passes by.
I was shopping the other day. When I came to the checkout, I looked up at the balloons. Most grocery stores now have balloons tied to the lane light as an impulse item. There are usually 'Happy Birthday', a smiley face, and the obligatory holiday balloon. I've seen all the holiday balloons - at least, I thought I had. The usual suspects are St. Patrick's Day or Valentine's Day, though I don't know anyone who wouldn't club someone for getting them a balloon for Valentine's Day. I don't like chocolate, but a balloon?
So, glancing up I see the balloons. They are Christmas balloons! I was shocked, stunned, something other than curious...
I have never seen a Christmas balloon. I don't even know how to process that information. I don't think it's sacrileges. I don't think it's neat. I simply do not know what to make of it. Balloons don't fit with Christmas. Sure, plenty of things have found their way into the Christmas holiday. Maybe, the first time someone put up blinking lights, it threw someone else off.
For some reason, those two things cannot exists as a merged unit in my brain. I love balloons. I love Christmas. It's been two days and I still find myself stopping a few times a day and saying, 'Christmas balloons?', aloud.
Yesterday, I added 'Current Crush' to my profile. A friend saw it and sent me a bunch of links for Mike Doughty pages. I wrote her back and asked her what her problem was, didn't she understand a crush? Turns out, she doesn't!
I didn't know there was a girl out there who didn't know the basics of having a crush. The first rule of crush is never, ever get more information
This is really the most important rule.
Perhaps, a brief description of a crush is necessary? The dictionary, well dictionary.com, defines thusly:
15.Informal.
a.an intense but usually short-lived infatuation.
Personally, I think infatuation is too strong.
I have years of experience on crushes. I have had a crush on a rock before. I still harbor a crush on Jack Skellington. So tall, thin, clever, witty... ::swoon::
Where was I? Ah, yes. Crushes are very fragile things. Like analogies, they do not hold up to scrutiny. A crush can be broken, yes broken, by a word, an action, a tiny bit of information that doesn't fit the slim boundaries of the crush.
My current crush is based solely on the album Haughty Melodic. The music, lyrics, voice of Mike Doughty. It doesn't, as is the case with many crushes, have anything to do with the real, flesh-and-blood Mike Doughty. He would only spoil the crush. He's a decent looking fellow, from the liner notes, so I mean him no ill-will.
How old is he?
Don't tell me!
Is he married with tons of little children with lovely unique names?
I do not want to know.
Who are his influences? Where was he born? How tall is he?
Good gravy! What a way to mess things up!
A crush is simply liking someone or something for that one thing you know it by at the time. A crush is not wishing you could meet them. A crush is taking that one little piece you see and admiring it. It's like looking at a man's wrist and admiring the way that small bone stands up and throws a light shadow. The slim line of the wrist giving way to the broad base of the palm. That wrist is the crush. To see the rest of the arm or, horror of horrors, the person, would likely break the crush.
Crushes are fragile little things. They required no work, but a little protection.
