Adventures in snacking

Fat-free "cheese" does not melt.

After two weeks of no exercise and a wicked lot of East Coast draught beer, I went to the gym yesterday to sweat it all out. After 45 minutes of killing myself on the elliptical trainer, I opted to hit the grocery store for nacho fixins. But guilt got the best of me, and while I did get nacho fixins, I got fat free shredded cheddar "cheese" and fat free chips.

Excited to make my snack for lunch, and thrilled that I would still be somewhat healthy, I hurried home from the store. Chips onto the plate, shredded "cheese" onto the chips, one-minute in the microwave...

Fat-free "cheese" does not melt. The shreds were still every bit as defined as when I took them out of the bag. Maybe another 30 seconds would do the trick.

Three minutes later, fat-free "cheese" does not melt.

Instead, the whole mess of cheese and chips had actually become part of the plate. The whole phenomenon reminded me of Sweet Home Alabama when the one cute guy turns sand to glass and then professes his love to Reese Witherspoon. Except there was no love triangle. Or Southern rock music. Or cute guy. (Yeah, that analogy was a stretch.)

Instead of throwing away the whole mess, plate and all, I decided to try and break apart the upper part of the chip-wad and eat it. After a couple of bites, I realized that not only does fat-free "cheese" turn into titanium when put on chips and microwaved, but it also tastes like shit. One hour later, I had pried enough of the mess off the plate where I hope a dishwasher will help at some point.

My snack was defeated, and I moved on. For dinner I thought I'd be safer and ate dry Stove Top stuffing out of the container.

Philadelphia, in pictures

I haven't had a chance to upload ALL of my pictures I took in Philadelphia, but here are some if you want to check them out on Flickr: http://flickr.com/photos/princessgolightly/

Now you know my Flickr address, so you have no excuse not to regularly check out my pictures-- and I have no excuse not to be more regular in taking them. Gotta' use that fancy camera!

Keep watching for one of the strangest pictures I've ever taken, when we decided to go on a ghost tour through the "City of Brotherly Love."

Go Sox! Where's the Bah-tendah?

After spending last week in Philadelphia for work, I decided heading to sunny Massachusetts to visit my brother and sister-in-law (well, they're nearly married... I'm in the wedding next summer) would be a nice, relaxing bit of a vacation.

Turns out, I like this state.

I like drinking draught Sam Adams while watching Red Sox games.

I like East Coast men with accents.

Ultimately, I like the fact that everywhere I go does not remind me of the emotional rollercoaster I've ridden for the past few years. When I'm in Salt Lake, it is hard to get through the day when just driving past a grocery store reminds me of my dad. It started to get to me so much, the thought of returning at the beginning of the week rather than the end seemed like the only way to continue to center myself.

Sure, it was tough to call my mom and tell her not to find me at the airport tomorrow, but I'm trying to find my mojo. My mojo's been gone for awhile now, and quite frankly, I'd like it back. I'm tired of being mojo-less.

And if I happen to find a cute smile to make me smile along the way while hanging out with the best brother and sister-in-law anybody could hope to have, so much the bettah.

Karma Blows

I don't know what I did, but karma is sticking its tongue out at me. I was on the freeway after work last night, during rush hour, behind a mini-van and sandwiched between two semi-trucks. When the mini-van spit an eight-inch piece of tire shred right out into the air.

I thought to myself, "Hmmm... rubber is squishy and bouncy! This is noooo prob..." SMACK!

Right into the corner of the hood of my car, my baby. No biggie when I saw the hood flapping in the breeze, I figured the little tire chunk just unlatched the hood on one side. After pulling over, there is a damn dent in the hood along with a broken latch. Not a big dent, not a hugely disgusting dent, just a dent large enough to look ugly and piss me off.

After getting estimates all day, estimates that range between five- and six-hundred dollars, I am wondering what I did to piss off karma so much this week:

Is it because I jokingly referred to an old lady as "The Cryptkeeper?" This is not an untruth; she does look like the Cryptkeeper, I'm not saying it to be mean, it's just... true.

Is it because I didn't really jump to save my mother as she fell down the mezzanine stairs at the Capitol Theatre during the intermission of Spamalot Sunday night? I didn't want her to pull me down too, not to mention I did finaly help her off the ground after she slammed her head into a pole. (I was also in a slight daze from the hotness of Sir Gallahad or "Dennis.")

Is it because I borrowed someone else's wine, the wine about which I wrote last week?

I got the hood latch fixed this evening by the fine folks at TeraFlex, who even used a ratchet thing and helped with installation. Still doesn't fix the dent in the hood, but at least I'm saved from said hood catching air and slamming up into the windshield.

My perfect car that has always been perfect isn't quite so perfect anymore. Like so many things in life, it's just an annoyance that adds a little color the the monotony of the day. I'm reminded of a saying I like to tell myself whenever I'm feeling sad and blue:

"If you light a man a fire, he'll be warm for a day but if you light a man on fire, he'll be warm for the rest of his life."

Take them how you will

Just some random thoughts for your Wednesday night pleasure... take them how you will.

1. No matter how sweaty you get at the gym, do not blot your disgusting face with cheapo toilet paper from the bathroom stall. You'll only end up looking like you've had a horrible shaving accident, and you will not realize this until after you've walked back out through the gym and are sitting in the car.

2. If you are dating someone and that someone happens to die, do not keep their old bras out on your shed workbench. It will make the person you might later date question your affection for them, and that will be the start of a slow spiral down the proverbial relationship toilet. Until it flushes and it's gone.

3. Thank goodness for fast-thinking friends who come up with the idea to use a towel to slide and carry a television. That's right! If you feel that number two pertains to you, then you're the same person from whom I stole said tv-moving towel! Bwahahahahahaaa! I also borrowed a bottle of wine from you, and it was the best wine I've ever had.

4. Is Ouija necessarily bad? Is it only bad if the walls begin to bleed? What if I use Ouija and my dad tells me from the "other side" that he saw me borrow wine and take a towel?

5. Power outages and elliptical trainers do not mix well. If the power goes out while you are climbing at a 10 and the machine stops, you will get suddenly launched over the front. Red wine and someone else's Xanax prescription do not mix well either.

Only one more week until I leave for Philly. I'm excited to room with the life-saving towel-stealing accomplice. It will also be a much-needed diversion right now as I get into Fall and the one-year anniversary of some ultimate sadness.