Monthly Archives: January 2009

All things Fluff

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Well now, cats & kittens. Do we have a history with Fluff? I still love its marshmallowy yumminess. Fluffernutters were a staple of my lunchtime diet when I was a kid. What’s a Fluffernutter? Why, two slices of Wonder Bread, slathered generously with peanut butter on one and Fluff on the other, of course. Heaven. My mom made the best Fluffernutters. Just the right amount of innards. And love — don’t forget the love.

‘Course, those were days when having what amounted to a sugar sandwich for lunch was not necessarily frowned upon. Case in point: remember eating Honey Smacks breakfast cereal before they changed its name? I do. Anyway, I loved my Fluffernutters. Mavis didn’t, though, which was fine. More for me.

There’s even a website dedicated totally to Fluff, operated by its Boston-based manufacturer. There you can read about the storied history of Fluff. They even offer the famous “Yummy Book” of Fluff recipes for free download. (Don’t think I wasted a New York minute before snagging that bad boy.)

Best part of the Fluff site: the hot cocoa mugs. I covet them.

But that’s not all there is to Fluffdom. There’s a whole Fluff universe out there that I did not know existed. Next year, you can attend the What the Fluff? Fluff Fest in Massachusetts, where all things Fluff really come together. From drinking a “Fluffachino” at the coffee shop (which really does sound yummy) to getting screened for diabetes (no lie), there’s tons of fun to be had.

Heh…even puffy, stuffy Boston University showed up. Wow.

And what if you — like myself, on this nice, warm morning — have no Fluff on hand? You’re Fluffless? Bereft of Fluff? Well then, you can make your own. Five stars for the Fantastic Marshmallow Fluff Clone recipe.

Happy Friday, fiends. Think fluffy thoughts.

Image credit: Union Square Main Streets

Shyeah right

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Mm-hmm. Yyyyyeah. And I got this plot of land in the Everglades…

So Michael Irvin survives an attempted car-jacking by simply “being Michael Irvin.” According to his tale, a pair of fully armed ruffians in a pickup truck pulled up next to Mike’s Range Rover, intent on robbing or car-jacking him, or just plain blowing his head off for kicks and giggles. He said that he saw the gun and he “knew what time it was.”

Knew what time it was??? (Ever wanna just slap somebody? I mean, honestly.)

Anyway, having instantly recognized him, the would-be killers instead retracted their automatic weapons and nattered on good-naturedly with Mr. ESPN about Cowboys football. Whew. Good thing Irvin’s a Dallas fan, eh?

Shyeah right. I’m more inclined to believe the assumptions flying around that it was a drug deal that almost went bad. (But I’m just a Mean Girl this morning, so pay me no nevermind.)

Even more hilarious were the reader comments I saw after checking the story on several different websites. Some gems at ESPN.com:

Why couldn’t this happen to one of the meaner Cowboys, like Pacman or T.O.? Why did it have to happen to a great person like Michael Irvin, who never did coke in his entire life, never cheated on his wife with multiple prostitutes, and never had a crackpipe in his car while he was a commentator at ESPN?

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Post: Too bad [the criminals] weren’t 49ers fans.

Reply: 49ers have fans?

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[Putting away the guns] was a professional courtesy on the men’s part in the truck.

HAaaAAA — I rarely laugh out loud while reading reaction comments, but some of these were priceless.

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On a more serious note, I was sad to read last night that Ricardo Montalban died. :-(

Yeesh, another snow day today. Now I have no choice but to bury myself at this box and get that practice essay written. Joy. Please send me some email or comment luv. I’m going to need a diversion.

Fink out (of excuses to procrastinate). OK, just this one more:

Here was my drive home yesterday. That’s snow covering ice. Delightful.

Image credit: Some poor unlucky deputy stuck photographing His “High-ness” at the Dallas County Jail, most likely — although, considering the “Coke Machine”‘s lengthy rap sheet, it could have been elsewhere.

Various & Sundry X

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You know…this is the stuff of which Movies of the Week are made.

  1. Defraud your investors of their hard-earned cash.
  2. Park motorcycle in storage facility in Alabama.
  3. Leave fake suicide note.
  4. Take off from Indiana, flying private plane.
  5. Put in fake distress call en route.
  6. Parachute out. Ditch plane over Florida.
  7. Go to Alabama; retrieve motorcycle.
  8. Vanish.
  9. Get caught.

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Remember Vicks Vapo-Rub? My mom used to make Mavis and me eat a teaspoon of it if we had a cold. (Yikes.) I used to put a spoonful of it in a hot steam vaporizer unit when my boys were sick or congested. I just put some on Jake’s chest a few weeks ago. Well, I won’t be doing that anymore.

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I am not a Bono fan in the least. But either he has a ghost writer, or he wrote a fantastic op-ed piece on Frank Sinatra. Very well done, wouldn’t you say? And I totally agree with his take on Frank’s two versions of “My Way.” A really good read.

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In 331 consecutive posts (I’ve never missed a single day) and 819 comments, no one at RtB has ever invoked Godwin’s Law.

Which means, of course, that someone will reply to this post and invoke it today.

Heh.

Contentment.

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As promised. And this one made me think…about a lot of things.

1. My entire existence has been slowly eaten away by these comp exams coming up in April. I have realized that this particular scenario is largely choice-driven, to wit: I am allowing it to happen. Actually, I’m making it happen. So I’m choosing now to stop it. If I can’t design a quantitative study to BU’s specifications in two hours, writing by hand in a Bluebook, well then I’ll take my lumps, fail the exam, and try harder next time. I’ve got to stop thinking that if I fail the first time, I’ve failed completely. I do have three chances. And as Mother used to say, “Worrying changes nothing.” In fact, she and Dad also said that worrying is actually a sin; it’s the belief that God is not in control and He might screw stuff up. Yikes. (Latent guilt, anyone?)

~
2. No matter what my students may think (I can be difficult in rehearsals, I know that), they’re pretty OK in my book. I count myself fortunate.

3. Even though I’m growing to hate 2-hour delays, I am grateful and content, sitting here drinking my coffee and writing to you.

4. The two girls doing that tap feature in Dinner Theatre are going to be très cute. That makes me happy.

5. Even though the present article I’m reading in the Journal of Research in Music Education makes absolutely zero sense to me, I am determined to figure it out, which gives me a much-needed feeling of resolve, and just a little confidence. I will, this day, discover what “…the majority of loadings exceed .40 and only one cross-loading exceeded .40…sampling adequacy was established using the Kaiser-Meyer-Olkin measure…assumption of sphericity was also met as evidenced in the Bartlett Test of Sphericity” means.

6. And when it all shakes out, as I’ve said before, it’s your family who count. They are your “now” and your legacy. I remind myself of this, and I am content.

Fink out (for more coffee).

Dread.

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You know, it’s a brand-new year, and I should be looking forward to all the great things 2009 will bring. But right now, one feeling threatens to override the others: dread.

Now of course, I will follow up this post with things that I’m really looking forward to, but that will be later, when I’m in a better mood and the sun is out. For now, here’s what I’m dreading:

  1. The thought of a Super Bowl where both teams are from Pennsylvania. The Eagles I can stand, but the St*****s…God hates me. And shut up, Kody.
  2. Buying a new dryer today. My 12-year-old Kenmore died last night.
  3. Up at 5 a.m., school, rehearsal, home by 8 p.m., study until midnight, sleep, repeat.
  4. The knowledge that my knees probably won’t take too many more years of tap dancing.
  5. April.
  6. Waiting until July for the 3rd season of Mad Men.
  7. The drive to school this morning in the freezing cold. (Must start the Mighty Ford Ranger extra-early.)

Commiseration, anyone?

Fink out. (At least there’s yummy coffee in the kitchen.)

PS — I guess I can’t really be *completely* depressed. Mad Men won again.

:-)