Purple

My new phone is destined to come in the mail soon. According to an email from the seller, it will arrive tomorrow. But I am a girl of wild hopes and little faith, so I am disappointed that it didn’t come today yet I doubt it will come tomorrow. That’s not my point.

My point is that my phone is white and plum. So far my favorite phone was the lime green phone which I lost in the grass on a rainy day and thenceforth suffered with its water-damaged state. Please remind me not to gallivant in pastures of water-logged plums, and my new phone should be spared any undue damage.

Purple gummy bears are difficult to find. So difficult, in fact, that I have yet to find any. Really, Brachs? Can you be serious, Haribo Gold Bears? What makes you think that the general public would be anything less than totally enthralled by the presence of grape gummies in their bags of bears?

I bruised my pinky-finger knuckle over a week ago from scraping ice off my car. It still hurts. And I mention this now because it was at one time in my recent past, quite purple.

As you may NOT have guessed by now, my favorite color is blue. But my winter closet appears to have been hit with a blizzard of purple blouses. I counted seven. I need to shovel some of them out.

There’s a girl with a blog who sends a lot of readers over here from her sidebar link (for which I thank you, Nina). This same girl gave me lilac sweater socks for Christmas (for which I also thank you). I have long been an ardent fan of fuzzy socks; that love is not one to be hidden. But now I have discovered a love for sweater socks, lilac or non.

May your socks be fuzzy or sweaty. May your phone stay out of watery places. May your bags of gummies be infused with purple bears.

recent nom noms

Item 1: Brach’s tiny gummi bears. (sold at Walmart)

Why I like them: They’re tiny, yet still have faces. The serving size is 62 bears. They’re like stress-relief balls for your teeth. I have been accused of being addicted to these.

 

Item 2: Haagen Dazs caramel cone ice cream. (on sale this week at CVS, also sold at Weis)

Why I like it: It’s a chocolate-covered waffle cone IN my ice cream. It’s crunchy and melty and chocolately and cold and sweet and perfect after work with hot chocolate.

 

Item 3: Lindt dark chocolate with a touch of sea salt. (roll-back price is $1.98 at Walmart)

Why I like it: It’s Lindt’s already-great chocolate, perfectly nuanced with salt. You can taste the salt, but it’s not salty. You can taste the chocolate, and . . . is it just me, or is the chocolate actually better because of the salt? (Thanks to Joyce for introducing me to this stuff!)

 

Item 4: Panera Bread’s asiago cheese bagel. (sold at Panera Bread)

Why I like it: Cheese. Toasty cheese. Slathered with cream cheese. What’s not to love?

 

Go try one of these this week. Let me know what you think.

Merry Pop (the sequel)

This story is based on more fact than its predecessor, Pop. The following events actually transpired to, and in the near vicinity of, the author and can be verified by the fire report bearing the name of the author.

Working at a hotel on Christmas day isn’t so bad. Guests are in a happy holiday spirit, and I get to meet (most of) them at their cheeriest moment. The hotel that I work at was pretty slow and empty most of Christmas day. There were two main families who had decided to host their Christmas festivities here at the hotel. Family 1 hosted theirs on the 1st floor, and Family 2 on the 2nd floor. It is to Family 2 that our eyes turn for the crux of this story.

9:00pm. It was hardly three hours into my shift. Coincidentally, it was also only three hours after having discussed with my manager the small handful of times the smoke alarm has ever gone off while I was working. I gave it not one more thought.

Until the alarm went off.

Keeping my head together as well as one can do when an alarm is beeping, I ran to the alarm panel to assess the situation. I then took half a step away from the alarm panel and towards the phone so I could call the guest’s room to assure their safety. Half a step.

Then the house alarm went off.

That means that instead of one room and the alarm panel in the back being the only two beeping items, the entire hotel’s alarm system was involved in a ”beep-beep” cycle. A cycle that happened, oh, every second. Until I hit the “alarm silence” button a full two seconds later. I had undone that half step away from the alarm panel, located the button, and pressed it with very little delay.

I finally got a chance to make my way to the phone to call the guest, who happened to be a member of Family 2. I went through my mandatory spiel of “Please do not open your hotel door. Feel free to open a window, but keep your door shut.” It is then that they reveal the cause of the alarm.

“I just put popcorn in the microwave and forgot about it.” — member of Family 2 (Insert unpaid commercial for Brian Regan. He talks about this very scenario on his newest audio release. Finding something in the microwave that you forgot about. It’s hilarious, as always.)

*steps on soapbox* Really? Really?! It takes 3 minutes to pop popcorn, maybe 4, and in that time frame you forgot?! You didn’t smell it burning, but its smokiness managed to set the alarm off for the whole hotel?! That’s a bunch of baloney. Smoked baloney. *steps off soapbox*

By this time, I realized that there is no danger. This situation is so minuscule that even The Great Brian has poked fun at it.

I placed my next phonecall to the dispatch office to let them know that it was a false alarm. The lady was very helpful, but oh, the first responders were already on their way.

They arrived amazingly fast. I was honestly impressed. I feel safe knowing how quickly help can come when I need it. But how embarrassing it is when help comes when you don’t need it. It’s like Banana Man from Patch the Pirate.

I escorted the fire official up to the room of Family 2, so that he could ascertain whether there was any cause for fear or not. As I called the room to alert Family 2 of our arrival, I heard him talk on his radio, telling dispatch that he didn’t know the exact cause and not to stop the other responders from coming.

So they came.

By the time I arrived back at my front desk post, there was a grand total of four first responders with their red lights a-flashing merrily, and one fire truck pulling in with red and white lights a-flashing. Off in the distance, a stop light turned green.

And together, with our red, white, and green lights flashing at will, we celebrated Christmas with a ka-thumping heart.

Fanfare for the Common Cold

It’s that time of year again, and I have fallen prey to a cold less than 24 hours ago. However, I am not one to give in so easily. Following are suggestions I have for eradicating such germs from my body. Even if they aren’t totally successful, at least they’re enjoyable.

- Drink lots of liquid. And I mean LOTS. My favorite sore throat teas are black licorice, rooibos, and lemon with extra, extra fresh-squeezed lemon. Room-temp or warmish water is better for you than jolting your throat with refrigerated water. Sports drinks (like Gatorade or Propel) are designed with nutrients and vitamins and delish flavors that will make you want to drink them. The soothingest of all, in my opinion, is chocolate milk. Feels so good! I buy a half gallon of it within hours of my feeling sick. Even if it doesn’t help, it’s nice to have an excuse to drink chocolate milk.

- Salt. If you are insane and feeling deer-like, you can buy a salt lick. If you like to torture your already-painful throat, by all means, gargle with warm salt water. I prefer to eat smoked almonds, honey-roasted peanuts, pretzels of all shapes, chicken and stars soup, and Ritz crackers. Too much sweet stuff makes my stomach complain. But the salt lingers on the throat and helps it heal.

- Quality time in the sauna. This is just plain fun. And it helps the nasal cavities. Turn your bathroom into a sauna following these simple steps. Shut the window in the bathroom, turn on the heater, and prepare to take a super-steamy, oh-so-dreamy hot shower. Just ensure that no one is waiting to shower after you’re done because the water heater might need some recovery time. Breathe in the warm aqua vapors. They can do a body some serious good.

- Pamper yourself. You’re sick. Don’t pretend that you’re well. I am not condoning laziness. I think that you can get a lot done in between naps. Thirty minutes of shut-eye is a perfect power nap for me. Shorter or longer than that makes me groggy and non-functioning when I wake up. After a power nap, I can usually spend the next few hours getting a lot done, as long as I keep myself hydrated and my tummy is happy. Act like you’re fine, but acknowledge that you’re not.

- Stay cozy. Your body should spend its energy fighting off the mean germies, not trying to keep you warm. Put on the fuzzy socks, wear a hoodie, wrap yourself in a fuzzy blanket until you resemble a furry mermaid. And stay that way. You’re creating a plush lil habitat in which your warmed-up body can function at its peak anti-sickness state.

**This list is not endorsed by the National Get Well Soon Foundation, nor any other conglomeration of smart people. Use at your own risk. These tips have not been known to reschedule appointments with doctors or death itself. However, they are not forbidden by the Poison Control Center of any established colony of life forms, so you will likely not hasten the process of death.

The Perfect Cookie

“I demand the perfect cookie! Serve it upon a silver tray. It must be the perfect cookie, fit for a king in every way! Not too chewy, not too crunchy, not too big, and not too small. If it’s not the perfect cookie, it will never do at all!!”

Those who are well-versed in the clever songs of Patch the Pirate will recognize this song from Harold the King, of which recording I own the cassette. In the song, King Harold proceeds to tell how many chocolate chips are required to make a cookie absolutely perfect and worthy of a king. At least that is how I recall the song going. I no longer have a cassette player and therefore cannot listen to the song and correct my possibly-misled memory of the song.

This post was actually not intended to be about a cookie, perfect or imperfect.

It’s about a salad.

(commence unpaid commercial) At Panera Bread, they are currently serving a plate of summer freshness, nutty goodness, and delectable crispness. They are calling it their Strawberry Poppyseed Chicken Salad. Not very creative if you ask me. But you didn’t ask and neither did they. If I was going to name it, I would call it the Spangled Pollo Fruit Salad. Not that much more creative, but I’m in the mood to use the word “spangled” so I think it’s quite the proper name for the salad. Which is quite the perfect salad. Strawberries, blueberries, pecans, pineapple, lettuce of course, mandarin oranges, delightfully-seasoned chicken, and a tastebud-tantalizing poppyseed dressing.

You know when you are eating a salad and you eat a good bite? I mean with some foods, every bite tastes a little different than the last. Maybe better, maybe not better. Salads are one of those foods. One bite has lettuce and a blueberry and you swipe it through the pool of dressing. The next bite is mandarin orange, strawberry, and lettuce balanced precariously on a pecan. Each bite tastes so unique. Not uncommon is the cry, “That was a good bite!”

Go to Panera Bread! Have lots of good bites of their Spangled Pollo Fruit Salad! But don’t call it that, for thou shalt confuse them profoundly.