oh my darlin' clemintine

i'm completely addicted to oranges. it's one of my best kept secrets. in college, i would hide 10 lb bags of oranges in the drawer of my desk, leaving my books with no home. i would have to refill the orange drawer probably twice per week, three times if it was finals week. i don't quite know how i managed to keep my roommates from finding out. the year between graduation and getting married was citrustacular. there was no need to hide, no one to question the sheer volume of peel in the garbage can. i was one happy, vitamin-C filled chick.

then i got hitched, and retreated back to shamefully concealing my love for the fruit. the first two years are so full of discovering lots of little things about each other that i didn't want to just offer such a large secret off the bat. and since you share most every nook and cranny with your permanant roommate, i couldn't even hide the oranges. i've spent the last 17 months looking at them longingly in the supermarkets, knowing that if i granted myself one, i'd sure lose all control and the cops would find me three days later, my esophagus (nope, no spell checking here) completely disolved from the acid of a thousand oranges.

but today, i'd had enough. we were picking up some groceries to make dinner for friends who've just had the most adorable baby. and there, just a foot away from the celery, was a box of "cuties," little clemintine oranges, looking as cute as they claimed. my breathe quickened a bit as i saw that they were on sale. i took a deep breath, and prepared myself to casually grab a box of the cuties. the husband said "what do we need those for?" to which i replied "oh, i mean, it's the holidays, so, i just thought...you know...um, i think i might be getting a cold or something, aren't you supposed to have vitamin C or something? i mean, we don't have to get them, i just thought it might be nice...." at this point he'd already moved on to examining tomatoes and mumbled something like "whateverrrr"
glory of glories! oranges! i could think of nothing else the for the remainder of the shopping trip, and the ride home. we walked in the door, and as non-chalantly as i could, i cut open the netting surrounding the little bundles of fabulousness. the husband trotted upstairs to watch ESPN and i sat down on the couch with my orange. my peeling skills came back to me quickly...that trick where i get the whole peel off in one piece...that took me four months to perfect....and here i am, doing it as well as i had back then.

they're sweeter than i remembered. and the juice explosion is a little more excitingly startling. and now....i'm trying to find a way to reconfigure the peels to resemble uneaten oranges, how to discourage the husband from wanting to eat one, and when i can get back to the store to buy a replacement box so he'll never know what just happened.

Rockstar? yes, if by "rockstar" you mean "liquid noose"

so there i was, it was thursday morning, this thursday morning to be exact. alright, it was just now. details details.

i had this wee pill to swallow. under oath i'd swear it was no more than a fourth of an inch long by an eighth of an inch wide. the pharmaceutical company that produces this capsule of neon pee producing goodness is even kind enough to put a magical coating on the outside to guarantee its swift decent from my mouth, down my tube, and into my circle area. you've all seen the commercials... you know the complex inner workings of the human body of which i speak.

now, i've taken this pill before, lots of times. water is my go to, but i will settle for coffee in a pinch. no no, silly, not literally a pinch of coffee... that's in no way enough liquid to take a pill with... i mean, i'll settle for coffee if no water is at the ready. i've never had an attempt on my life during this pill swallowing procedure. until today. today i chose rockstar. ladies and gentlemen, i implore you. learn from me. i nearly died. the combonation of rockstar and wee pill created an obstacle in my tube that nearly prevented the pill from reaching my circle area. not only that, it breifly prevented air from traveling the same path.

then, joy of joys, someone walked into my office, heard my desperate attempt to save my own life. it was misinterpreted as what is known as "coughing from the flu." recommendation? go home and rest.

luckily for my place of employment, i am a woman of integrity like no other, and i will choose to work despite the attempt on my life.



bonus prize: i have a new office now, one that is all my own. one of the window squares in said office has the following invitation etched: "LET GET HIGH."

the trance of the Tree

does this happen to anyone else? you walk into the Dollar Tree to quickly grab some bubble gum and ziploc bags..........

and forty minutes later walk out with $46.50 worth of STUFF? what is it about that place...it's almost like the "beer goggle" theory...when i walk in to the store, things look basically trashy and cheap...but 15 minutes later, i'm shocked to have discovered that i can get tissue-paper-thin socks for ONE DOLLAR! what a steal!

how do they do it? do they release something into the air? are there subliminal messages in the music? have they like TOTALLY mastered the shelf placement thing?



also, i decided to google "dollar tree" and found this super fun site...a guy documents stuff he found in the dollar tree. there's really amusing stuff on there. i wish i was one of those blogfessionals who could make a word be what you click on to get to the page they're talking about. but i'm not. so here's the link, the old fashioned way.

www.ericisgreat.com/ bio/dollartree.html


on a side note...nothing makes me happier right now than the nokia commercial with the guy singing "just a good ol' boy...never meanin' no harm..." with his eyes all rolled up to the ceiling. oh man, that guy's a HOOT!