Almost 6pm, sitting at work, thinking about making some popcorn. Now, I am actually realizing I've been consuming an awful lot of popcorn lately.
Saturday night O and I headed to the Ho Jo concert (Howard Jones for those of you not in the know)
Howard, rock star of the 80s (and 2011 I suppose)
Still cool though his hair is does not make quite the statement it once did
We had a grand old time and danced away wildly (someone had invited us to the event and we were determined to be excellent concert companions. Consequently, we had a 3 day crash course in Ho Jo and tried to learn at least the chorus to his top 5 songs.)
I had envisioned a grand dinner but, due to some choice words on the part of one person ( :) ), which led to a bit of a verbal wrangle, we found our plans had fallen by the wayside and we were forced to make due with the concession stand. The popcorn there was really terrible, not even palatable. It had the consistency of cardboard and tasted worse than packing peanuts. Despite this, the whole affair was utterly delightful.
Sunday I had popcorn again:
So last Sunday I was melting out in the car-I was an hour and a half early for church and it was at least 97 degrees--so I kept toggling back and forth between the AC, and opening the windows/door. I'd put on the AC for 10 min, then worry that the car would die, so I would shut it off and open the door, hoping to catch a breeze. Well, there was no breeze to be caught and, to make matters worse, the car emitted the most irritating, interminable beeping sound every time the door opened. I thought to myself-how biz-ahh (in Heidi Klum's voice of course), why would a car company make a car that does this? How is a person supposed to open the door for 5 seconds without going batty! And then I'd shut the door and turn on the AC again. After a few rounds of this, I was thinking-there is something wrong with O's car. After all, my car lets me open the door and leave it open, and, as long as the keys are not in the ignition, it voices no complaint at all. I was completely bedeviled. Finally, I surmised that O must have his car on an queer setting that reminds one to close the door by beeping.
Well, church finally did start and I arrived not a little wilted by the heat. After church, I snuck over to my lab (so handy to work/church/practically live on campus) to pop some popcorn (keep in mind, I had left my house 2 1/2 hours before church, spent 3 hours in there, and now had a 45 min drive home, so I absolutely needed some sustenance). I thought it would be the best surprise for O ever! I diddled slowly back to the car, since O was still finishing up his ministerial duties, debating whether I should go sit in the car and deal with the AC/door thing or if I should just wait in the shade somewhere. I decided that 10 min of running the car with the AC on was no biggie and hopped in.
The car was not actually on fire, it just felt like it. When I opened the door the melt your mascara so your eye-lashes stick together sort of wave came at me. I plopped down and turned the key and...nothing. Yes, the beeping meant the lights were on. I cannot imagine why that never occurred to me-oh wait, must be because it was bright as day when I got out of the car that I had not been driving (except around the parking lot, strictly speaking). Fortunately, we got it jumped fairly quickly. I was worried that this episode would ruin the popcorn surprise for O but, it turns out, nothing could distinguish the joy of popcorn on that flaming afternoon.
Monday: the Orem Owlz.
OK, word to the wise, do not eat a hot dog that looks like this
you should also avoid eating a hot dog that is greyish purple (and the green noddles above for that matter).
Yes, poor O ate a terrible looking hot dog at the baseball game and came down with a vicious bought of food poisoning in the wee hours of the morning. I safely chose popcorn for dinner and while it was nothing remarkable, it was, notably, not terrible either.
For today, I've decided to forgo the popcorn. I fancy I'll be better of with cheese crisps and caramels.