Last week the first 2 rounds of the quest to determine the best cereal of all time happened, and now today, we decide the best breakfast treat to start your day right! For a recap, click on this link, otherwise, let’s dive right in.
1. It’s not that I hate dancing, there are just things I would rather do. Like drink poison. In all seriousness, I’m just not that good at it. So that’s why the dancing in Lebanon is so perfect for me; as opposed to American dancing, where I can just blend in to the mass of incoherent writhing bodies, the most popular Lebanese dance, the Dubke, is set up as a circle. This way, every single person has an angle on just how bad I’m botching the steps and struggling for rhythm. I don’t dance with two left feet; it’s more like one left foot, and one horribly mangled left foot.
2. The toilets flush differently. Could be a European thing. I’ll check into it and get back to you on that one. Continue reading “Lebanon”
Growing up, I was always told my commercials that certain cereals were “part of a complete and balanced breakfast.”
That quote confused the hell out of me. My complete and balanced breakfast didn’t include cereal, milk, orange juice, toast, and eggs. Mine included about 3 bowls of some sort of sugary cereal. Cyclical as things are, as I get older I’m finding myself eating cereal again in the morning…and in the evening when I don’t feel like cooking.
So the obvious question now is: which cereal is the best? Since I broke down the best dunks of all time last week, I shall now break down the best things to dunk your spoon into this week. However, this time, I’m going tournament style. Continue reading “Cereal Wars”
Here is a short narrative I wrote. It’s about my dog. It’s sad. It actually won the Pulitzer Prize, so…it has that going for it.
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I once heard a saying from someone who believed that, uncompromisingly, women fantasize about being rescued, and men fantasize about being the rescuers. I can’t attest to the statement’s ubiquity, but when I was young, this belief, in part, held to be true.
Looking back now, it’s almost alarming the amount of time I conjuring up ludicrous scenarios in which I could step in, the valiant white knight, and save my distressed damsel from whatever catastrophes descended upon her. Maybe this urge stemmed from a desire to be noticed, recognized for my feats of bravery, and then appreciated thereafter. Of course, I know now that it’s a false way of thinking, to protect someone out of selfish intentions. At the time, it all seemed the same to me. Continue reading “A Story About Bailey”
Sometimes you oversleep and you wake up and realize that you have a post to put up.
See, I got a new pillow-top mattress lately. And while the jury is still out on whether it’s good for my back or not, the fact remains that I’ve been sleeping way more soundly for the last week or so. That’s good.
Unfortunately, it also means I’ve blown through my alarm a couple of times. And when you’re the person responsible for putting up essentially every single thing on the site, that’s when mistakes happen.
So instead, here’s a bulleted list of little things that have been on my mind recently: Continue reading “Number Two with a Bullet”
People’s capacity for settling is staggering.
I’m no exception. My entire life has been one of stark contradiction, dictated by both faceless society and those closest to me. Their words, telling me to stop at nothing to pursue what makes me happy and reach the depths of my potential, and yet their actions and reflected beliefs conditioning me to place no priority higher than that of reaching certain goals as deemed appropriate by the general public’s conventional wisdom. To reach a socially acceptable end, regardless of the means. Attaining goals for the goals sake.
When I chose to get an English degree, I inherently made an entire series of decisions that would seal the next seven years of my life. After all, law was the next logical progression; not because I particularly liked (or even cared about) the field, but because I was told by family/friends/society that it was the only really viable career possible with my area of study. I didn’t forge ahead and take a chance, because I couldn’t possibly conjure that route as a possibility. How could I? Much like the idea of “censored vocabulary” explored in George Orwell’s 1984, if a thought process or idea is foreign to you or completely absent altogether, it’s difficult to formulate those thoughts on your own.
So instead of forging ahead, taking chances, and finding what it was I really loved, I took the safe track and settled for the choice that was put in front of me by everyone but myself. The world told me it’s better to spend your life wondering “what if” then to actually find out for yourself and deal with whatever consequences await. Continue reading “Career and Life”
People have been running since the dawn of humanity. Really, it used to be the only possible way to get around. Then we got bikes and horses and cars and Segways, and running got left by the wayside. I was fully guilty of this; I despised running. A treadmill was my nightmare; a run around the neighborhood was pure torture for me. I’m still blown away by the fact that I just ran three miles tonight. For me, the only type of exercise I was able to get was through some sort of sport. Basketball, kickball, softball, golf, racquetball — … Continue reading Running Man
Last week, somebody asked me an interesting question. They said, “Do you even remember what it’s like to be short?”
My hopelessly witty and charming reply was something like “er…no.” I mean, I’m 6-foot-9. I’ve been tall for quite some time.
Truth be told, I do remember those days. I remember several things from when I was a kid, like Christmases, birthday parties, moments from my elementary school, and the day I was told about a certain divorce. And there’s plenty of other stuff too.
I also remember the day I was taller than my mom. Keep in mind, my mom is five feet tall. Sure, she’ll tell you that it’s actually 5 feet, 1/4 inch, but that doesn’t really stop her from falling into the short category. I’d been hovering around eye level for a while, but we were shopping one day in eighth grade when I noticed that I’d finally made the leap.
Passing my dad? That was a much bigger deal. Continue reading “Heightened Senses”
A second in a series tentatively called: Getting older.
Birthdays used to mean something as a kid. It was a time for you to have delicious cake and ice cream, and invite about a million friends over to your house so that they’d all get you some sort of toy that you mostly didn’t need.
I used to count down to my birthday. “I’m 6 and 5/12ths,” I would say sometime around my sister’s birthday in May. (Remember, it’s all about me when you’re 5 years old. [Also…I was a huge nerd {and still am} for saying 5/12ths.]) Continue reading “Birthdays: Then and Now”
I remember being a kid and thinking life was complicated. It wasn’t. Having to decide between a half pint of chocolate and regular milk in the lunch line was not a tough decision compared to the choices that lay ahead. But there were a lot of things that seemed more important at the time.
Decisions weren’t the only things that were easier back then. Once upon a time, I could sleep anywhere at any time. Stay up until 4 in the morning? No worries; I was up at 7 or 8 o’clock sharp feeling refreshed enough to go for another day. Hell, waking up at that time was almost automatic, regardless of when I went to sleep. And I slept in all kinds of weird places — random couches, an assortment of beds when jumping between staying with family members, even the floor on nights when parties got a little too raucous.
Last night I realized that those days are completely behind me. I have about three beds I can sleep in comfortably. Everything else is broken. Sure, some beds are still adequate for a decent night’s sleep, but there’s only a handful that don’t leave me with a sore back in the morning. And the most recent example was sleeping in Dave’s Tempur-Pedic bed when the ATB crew was in Phoenix this past weekend to celebrate his birthday. Continue reading “Of Beds and Backs”
Gray Areas 