Ode to Just Born (And Serrana) – UPDATED

So, not far back (you better recall!), I posted an entry about my childhood best friend, Serrana. Today in the mail I received a package from her with a Hoops and Yoyo card (LOVE THAT LINE) and a box of Mike and Ike candies. First of all? This is for my birthday. Which. Is in July. Now before you ask if she knows it’s in July, we’ve known each other since fifth grade and her birthday is one month and five days after mine so yes. She is in a temporary location for training right now and didn’t want to lose it in the move. So aside from how amazing it is just to get that package and think about someone who’s been a part of my family from such a young age, with whom distance and disagreements were never drama(!) – the Mike and Ike. In that previous entry, I mentioned how she and I would routinely spend $20 on candy and a container of Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie. The makers of Just Born took quite a share of this money. And I have some delightful memories to share. Flashback central in three. Two.

So, there’s the original, which is what she sent to me. It’s not this exact throwback box design but it’s similar and I totally love it. Might not even open the box. But this wasn’t even our favorite. Because, ten or so years ago (whoa. aren’t I too young for that phrase?), Just Born had a beautiful plethora of related candies.

Now, Strawbana? This is where it was AT. The absolute most perfect blend of flavors. As far as I remember (and feel free to jog my memory, Brown Bag), THIS was our staple. When we’d walk down Potomac to Northgate to whatever reincarnation the gas station was at that moment in time (or, let’s be real, when we’d send Carlton), this was a must have. … OMG. I am just loving seeing this box design again after them RETARDEDLY taking all of this away from me and replacing it with such atrocities as Mike and Ike: Berry Blast. In which one of the flavors – and you can never tell which – is like taking a bite into a ball of paint. And your whole mouth wants to die. Not because it’s soooo toxic. But because you were expecting CANDY.

This little number is actually the first one I remember trying. I, sadly, cannot remember the taste but I know that we had them on several occasions. Again, it was something about all of these beautiful, colorful boxes and variations and pairings. A part of my childhood has been stolen from me, I’ll tell you that. I knew something important had died the instant they took these away.

Cherri. And. Bubb. I am so HAPPY right now. These are another special choice. When I was growing up, my Dad had season tickets to the Sacramento Kings. Because there were five of us kids, we’d always take the tickets out when he got them and divy up them up between us, going round robin to select the games we’d like to attend. Ana always got the Bulls. I seem to remember Jennifer and I swapping at some point when she had the Clippers. I loved Charles Barkley so I always wanted the Phoenix Suns. But on my turns, we’d get in the car for that ride that seemed soooo long (because at the time there was nothing in the expanse around the Arco Arena!) and we’d head to the gas station where I’d get the biggest box of Cherri and Bubb available. Once at the game I got nachos and soda. After the game, particularly if the Kings won, I’d get a burger from Carl’s Jr. (Because the ticket stub was good for a free burger if the Kings won, lol.) Just looking at this box gives me sensory memory of all of those smells and that feeling of being an only child for a few hours.

And, finally: there were Jolly Joe’s. These, paired with KitKat, were the summer after 8th grade. My mom was a live-in caregiver for four elderly people (the man was Joe, the others I don’t remember) in a tri-level near Lake Natoma. I’d walk from the house to the main street and go to the AMPM to get snacks because at the house, there was only convalescent food. Though I did develop a taste for breaded veal. Just Born still offers these but now they’re called Mike and Ike grape candies. So lame. Could we not keep ANY of the whimsy?!

Le sigh. So, thanks, Serrana, for sending me into that whirlwind of memories.

Good. Times.

UPDATE: And, just for historical accuracy! This was the Hershey’s bar that I would be chasing for the rest of my natural life. Why people do hurtful things like discontinue products is beyond me.

 

Just A Nibble

Of Kidneys and Kooter Juice… it sounds like a longlost Jane Austen tome, doesn’t it. Really, it refers to the latest trend of transvaginal kidney donations. Which means you just got va-jay-jay sauce on your donated internal organ. I’m. Not sure how to feel about that, unless we only get said donations from our mothers. In which case, it’ll match the set. When I first read this, I shouted, “Hold. The phone.” And Ezra grabbed my cell off the table. HILARIOUS.

Katherine Heigl’s hubby of one year is offering some profound marital advice, as someone who says he feels closer to her now than when they got married. If you’re not growing “more in love” everyday? It’s time to move on. Now I don’t wanna disrespect an elder, retarded as he may be, but as someone who’s been married almost seven times longer than him: Easy, Action. The whole thing about marriage is that it’s constant. So. Maybe every day after the honeymoon phase won’t seem like you can feel the throbbing love growth. Maybe at some point – if you’re normal and reflective – you might even wonder if you love your spouse and how you know. Because when something is constant – like the air we breathe – sometimes you forget it’s there and how much you need it. But, what he said too. As soon as you hit that plateau, don’t wait it out or work on it or exert yourself in any way. Dump your spouse. SCORE! (And please, sir, don’t have kids.)

 

Blurbage

Nothing compares to the sound of rain, especially thick, consistent rain. It’s impossible not to think of the color green, even when I don’t live in a forest/nature preserve. Moss. That’s what it looks like in my mind.

I feel less like I was beat over the head with “indier-than-thou-ness” after watching Juno than I anticipated. But only because of Jennifer Garner. I have never been a “fan” in that I’ve never thought, “hmm, I’m glad she was in that” or could think of some reason her performance was noteworthy or even made mental note or acknowledgment of her presence on the screen. Hm. This. Doesn’t sound like a positive review. What I’m saying is that I have never thought or felt anything about her until now. Her performance is what gave this movie a heart. Otherwise it’d just be another wise-cracking-slightly-charming teenager who only verbally submits to not knowing who she is. If you take the movie for what it actually accomplishes, I get no sense that she’s in a quandary, rather that everyone who doesn’t cavalierly drink slurpies and wear layered clothing is a loser. Don’t get me wrong, she was believably a teenager. But nobody ever told her to shut up. And I guess that doesn’t sit well with me. The other savior of the movie is Michael Cera, of course. He really is boss.

Oh and if you’re wondering. Yes. The French Family Funpack of Netflix strikes again.

 

UPDATE: Post Christmas Blog

There’s a drug addict trying to pretend she lives at the house next door since she just looked up and realized I’m sitting in my car and have seen her trying to figure out how to open the lid of those darned garbage and recycle bins… Upon seeing me, she quickly walked up towards the door only to double back and start trying to look into the bed of a truck parked there. She pulled herself up on it, saw nothing of interest and lowered herself back down before ducking behind the bins again. She’s a wily one, that’s for sure.

So that had nothing to do with what I was going to write. 1) Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. 2) Possibly due to Obama’s election – but probably due moreso to covert racism – it is now politically correct for a white guy with puppets to do a comedy show in Wisconsin that makes me feel really uncomfortable. Why is it okay for Black people to pick on White people and not vice versa, the age-old debate rekindles. Well, as the old adage goes: Because we didn’t string you from trees. So. Yeah. It’s the same reason why there’s no equivalent zinger for the good ole “n” word. We don’t have the power and institution behind us to actually affect your standard of living with our opinion of you. I feel like we’ve covered this before but hey, you guys whine a lot. By you people, of course, I mean whities.

Wonderful gifts from wonderful family,  as usual. And I – the historian – have made a gift to be sent out that I’m so in love with. Moreso than the shutterfly, epic photo albums. DOUBLE TRUE. This holiday season has been so lovely – starting with skating with my Dad, snow day with Ezra’s godparents and godsister which was seriously the most fun I’d had in ages, a dinner with family I don’t see much, Christmas Eve at my Dad’s composing my gift to all (which you haven’t gotten yet), Christmas Day with communion (Ezra’s first during which he declared: It’s a great day!) and two get-togethers at two houses and today, snow day with Pop Pop! Despite the exhaustion that threatens to obscond with my larynx…. such an amazing time. Plus I got the best regift I’ve ever seen, read or heard about! A necklace I bought my sister in New York a couple years ago that I L-O-V-E-D and which she did not. HAPPY DAY! Hahahaha.

SO! Onto the new year: praying for Fulbrights, grad school acceptances, moving and…. a trip to Portland!! Kissums!

 

You Caught Me Bein A Mentor!

Jk. So today, Katie and I began our special Domestic Goddess Thursday get-togethers, where we knit, drink tea and she cooks dinner. It was wundebar. And I even got to be made fun of by her hubby when he came home for lunch! HOORAY! Yeah, my mouth was doing this whole spitting thing. Which. Has never happened to me before. But did today? Because of the person who hadn’t ever met me who needed to truly know what glamour looks like? Yes. Yes, we would.

First I need you to know that we can be uber serious about anything. That mostly refers to our “hobbies”.

Don’t we look like refugees or victims of some sort of starvation and physical abuse? Kinda. We did, seemingly, lose the devastating serious. Once the camera was off. No, this was fun! Why doesn’t it look like it?! First of all, let me say that Katie had to literally reteach me how to do the simple stitch because I bought all my knitting stuff like a year ago and haven’t used it in at least nine months. So there was a little project being done that I couldn’t remember how to finish. So I started over. And then, of course, she had to teach me another stitch and then I had to try alternating and junk. Meanwhile, on her first week, she made herself a knit cap. Because she’s Katie.

And, no that’s not all that happened today! Since we’ll be up north for the holidays and Katie and Spence didn’t have one, we decided to lend them our tree and decorations.

She seemed happy.

And finally…

That. Just. Happened.

 

We will, in fact, rock you.

Well, I couldn’t very well post about the opening day of Morrowpalooza without pictures, could I? And seeing as I’ve only gotten the ones taken by my father (leaving two people who shouldn’t bring a camera if they’re not going to upload the pictures!) …. we’re not even halfway done.

SO! Ezra’s birthday party was this past Saturday and, as you should know, the theme (chosen by his princeliness!) was Rock-Out. Incoming pictures!

There are a half million pictures yet to acquire – more of the pinata bust, the concert (including the crowd surfing), the cake song… now that my brain is no longer trying to keep it all in list form… I kinda can’t remember a lot of it.

Um… this is the worst post ever, aside from the pictures. But I’ll just keep writing. That’ll save it! Josh has about a month left of his UC Center in Sacramento summer, which also means we’re moving closer to Fulbright/grad school application deadlines! After a rocky beginning – feeling displaced by the back and forth to Santa Cruz – I’m calm and productive. Fun times, friends.

 

Those Flashing Lights Come From Everywhere

I’m gonna sneak this one in right under the wire… but with two minutes left in 2.22…and without really knowing why I care about writing an entry per day (aside from being lonely when the few blogs I read don’t ever get updated. Jennifer.), looks like I’ll have to publish and then return to write it…oh… nevermind. Just rolled over to midnight. Hah!

Finally got the gift I ordered for Josh prior to Valentine’s Day. Loverly, much? Tad bit late, mon chou. I’m also anxiously awaiting the arrival (at her house) of the photobook I made Aunt Liz. Also, as I lay trying to turn off my brain after absentmindedly editing until five in the morning – I will never understand how I lose time like that – I was completely overwhelmed with this future party I mean to throw. Having finally found the perfect “gift” for someone must have been the reason I was then wide-eyed and bushy-tailed until whenever I just went into hibernate mode. You know when your body refuses to be tired and you cannot go to sleep for anything and eventually you realize you must have “dozed off” because here you are “waking up” but in actuality, it just feels like you closed your eyes for an undetermined amount of minutes (hours?) and had no real rest. Yeah, that’s what happened.

But today was lovely: “finished” my project, need a proof-reader(!), came upstairs to make Ezra breakfast to find him sitting at his table in his lovely “jammies” going through the alphabet with his leapfrog… seriously. Nick Jr. wasn’t even on. I … almost died. He turned to me and said, “Morning, Mama”. Then I did actually die. Anyway, despite Joshie’s having to work all day (which is happening again today *scream*), I got two phone calls from him at least so. It’s so funny. I used to be accustomed to him working ten plus hours a day (even when he didn’t have two jobs), though I could never say I was used to it. I’ve spent most of our time apart waiting for Josh to get back, or for me to get home. Not because anything would happen; just because then I’d feel normal. Now four hours in class is too much. We are so not that couple that’s all in each other’s mouths, by any means. But we’re those friends who don’t see any reason not to be in each other’s faces all the time. He’s my male equivalent of Serrana and Sasha, both of whom at one point literally were grafted to me. I remember people thinking that meant we were going to burn out on each other – since we’ve been this way since the day we met – but I guess passion burns out. Friendship doesn’t. Awesome? … Yes. Yes, it is.

 

Made With Bits Of Real Panther

OH, to be pregnant or recently have been pregnant. Now that we’re all on the same page… let us give thanks for the little boy who is whispering the many voices of his imaginary staff (someone’s gotta run the trucks and leggo towers) because Mommy asked him (like an hour ago) to hush a little. Brilliant.

In other news, I – being someone who not only loves to document but also loves to make specialized gifts – must tell you of the majesty of Shutterfly. For serious, I have three photobooks so far – and nuh thing compares …. – and just sent my great-aunt Liz an album for her belated 85th birthday. I know we’ve been over this but I heart gift-giving. So lovely. But these aren’t just regular old scrapbooks, mon puce. No, no. You can choose size (incl. 5×7 and my personal fave, 12×12), theme, backgrounds, lay-outs, write captions, number of pages… it’s not enough to tell you. I must show. you. No, not him. You.

(If you’ve ever met me, you’ve already seen these but I’m trying to get people to use Shutterfly, so go grab a coffee.)

Here’s the first one I made, to chronicle at least a smidge of our time in Bangor. I cannot even relay my reaction to getting this. I couldn’t believe how amazing the quality and presentation was. By the by, you can even design the back cover which is….

I really like splashing my favorite pictures on the back. But that’s just me.

This is the book I made when I’d had a laptop crash and wanted to make sure that the hundreds (literally…probably around 600) baby pictures we’d taken with the digital would not be lost forever. Oh, Shutterfly. How you did save me.

The book I made after Zain’s Welcoming Shower!! (Note: These also make great gifts for parents of babies who may not have the time to make photo albums…. you know, what with rearing an infant!)

And finally, the one I made last night for my Aunt. I made this in no time and sent it to her immediately after. Best. Gift-maker. Ever. She’ll get it sooner than if I went out and bought her a birthday card, I guarantee it.

So, today, I made three individualized but similar books that will serve for a great occasion… I… probably shouldn’t have told that…