That's the slogan for Nutella. I have some things to say about a current Nutella commercial.
There's a mom in the commercial who is running around making breakfast for her kids. The kids are in the commercial, running around being kids. You know running around pulling on sweatshirts, twirling, etc. The mom is carrying on about how relieved she is to have Nutella because it's wonderful spread on multigrain toast (she holds two slices of bread and waves them around) or even whole grain waffles. She puts plates on the table, puts Nutella on the bread, and then the kids magically stop twirling around, sit and eat their breakfast with giant grins. That's when the mom says something like, I love that I can feed my family a great breakfast so they are ready to conquer their day. Or something like that.
Here's what I want to say about this.
Really? Is Nutella on bread really a fabulous breakfast that will give you energy to take on your day? In fact, is there anything at all that is nutritious about Nutella? When I think about a breakfast that will help you make it through your day, I think oatmeal and a banana, not a jar of chocolate.
I did some googling and found this site about Nutella. I particularly like this bit, "We have a weakness for Nutella; not every thing we eat has got to be of perfect nutritious harmony. However, we certainly don’t appreciate being conned into believing a spreadable candy treat is anything but that."
I agree. Stupid commercial.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Remarkable Run
Since about August, all of the runs I've gone on have been so un-remarkable. The most eventful moments have only included me doubled-over at a stop sign catching my breath, cursing a hill, or just giving up and walking. All of these moments have to do with the fact that it has been 90+ degrees in Columbia since May and I've been exhausted because of the start of the school year, and so the result was just slugging through run after run convinced the whole time that I wouldn't make it home ever gain simply due to lack of energy. Today, though, all of that changed.
Things began with the fact that it was only 80ish degrees outside. There was rain, which makes any runner (even slow ones like me) feel like a badass because everyone else is inside hiding from the rain. It was Sunday evening, which means I'd had two decent nights of sleep and two decent naps. So with all of those things working for me, the run didn't suck as all the runs for the last two months have. This on its own was fairly remarkable. I like to narrate while I run, pretending that I'm writing a blog post. Once I got to the worst, most-dreaded hill of the whole route, I heard some people over at the park nearby cheering. I'm sure a little kid scored a soccer goal or hit a baseball or something, but in my narrative, they were definitely cheering for me because they, too, could tell that I would actually make it up that hill and still be running. Things were just working. So they cheered. I gave a quick fist pump to the crowd, and hauled myself up that hill. As if that wasn't remarkable enough, it gets better. When I was almost at the top, I heard a screeching car and a crash behind me. I turn around and see a car slamming into a mailbox and a white Explorer speeding away in my direction. A lot of thinking happened at this point in a split second. 1. I could be hit by that white Explorer runaway criminal! 2. Oh my god they are driving away! They hit that car and are speeding away from the scene! Ahhh! This isn't good! 3. Quick! Run into the closest yard (which I did as fast as I could) to get out of the way of reckless driver hit and runner. 4. Get the tag number. I could only get the first three letters. Damn! 5. Okay, it's over, and I'm standing in someone's yard. Time to do something....go!
Then, reality started again, and I ran back down the hill to make sure the people who got hit were okay. Not sure what I as going to do other than survey the scene (being a lifeguard is always a part of me!) and make sure it was safe. I didn't have my phone or anything, but whatever. There was this guy who was getting in his giant truck nearby who also tried to help. He stuck his head out the window and said, "Which way did they go?" and after we all pointed, he sped off. I love a guy in a truck chasing down a criminal. One time Will chased a guy who stole a woman's purse, except they were on foot. I'm not sure what boys think they are going to do when they actually catch up to the person they are chasing, but I appreciate the effort. After the guy took off on the hunt for the hit and runners, I talked to the two people who told me that they were about to turn into the driveway they were now sitting in. Apparently the house was their brother's house, and their dad had just passed away the day before. They were there to meet the minister. They were so tired and couldn't quite grasp what had happened, so I told them to call the cops for insurance purposes, etc. When it rains, it pours, right?
So that was the end of it really, I wished the two people luck, and started running away. At that point I realized that I had to run up the most-dreaded hill again. Yep, that would be two times up the worst hill ever. Thank goodness that the running was actually working out today. So sorry for the people who were in the accident though.
Things began with the fact that it was only 80ish degrees outside. There was rain, which makes any runner (even slow ones like me) feel like a badass because everyone else is inside hiding from the rain. It was Sunday evening, which means I'd had two decent nights of sleep and two decent naps. So with all of those things working for me, the run didn't suck as all the runs for the last two months have. This on its own was fairly remarkable. I like to narrate while I run, pretending that I'm writing a blog post. Once I got to the worst, most-dreaded hill of the whole route, I heard some people over at the park nearby cheering. I'm sure a little kid scored a soccer goal or hit a baseball or something, but in my narrative, they were definitely cheering for me because they, too, could tell that I would actually make it up that hill and still be running. Things were just working. So they cheered. I gave a quick fist pump to the crowd, and hauled myself up that hill. As if that wasn't remarkable enough, it gets better. When I was almost at the top, I heard a screeching car and a crash behind me. I turn around and see a car slamming into a mailbox and a white Explorer speeding away in my direction. A lot of thinking happened at this point in a split second. 1. I could be hit by that white Explorer runaway criminal! 2. Oh my god they are driving away! They hit that car and are speeding away from the scene! Ahhh! This isn't good! 3. Quick! Run into the closest yard (which I did as fast as I could) to get out of the way of reckless driver hit and runner. 4. Get the tag number. I could only get the first three letters. Damn! 5. Okay, it's over, and I'm standing in someone's yard. Time to do something....go!
Then, reality started again, and I ran back down the hill to make sure the people who got hit were okay. Not sure what I as going to do other than survey the scene (being a lifeguard is always a part of me!) and make sure it was safe. I didn't have my phone or anything, but whatever. There was this guy who was getting in his giant truck nearby who also tried to help. He stuck his head out the window and said, "Which way did they go?" and after we all pointed, he sped off. I love a guy in a truck chasing down a criminal. One time Will chased a guy who stole a woman's purse, except they were on foot. I'm not sure what boys think they are going to do when they actually catch up to the person they are chasing, but I appreciate the effort. After the guy took off on the hunt for the hit and runners, I talked to the two people who told me that they were about to turn into the driveway they were now sitting in. Apparently the house was their brother's house, and their dad had just passed away the day before. They were there to meet the minister. They were so tired and couldn't quite grasp what had happened, so I told them to call the cops for insurance purposes, etc. When it rains, it pours, right?
So that was the end of it really, I wished the two people luck, and started running away. At that point I realized that I had to run up the most-dreaded hill again. Yep, that would be two times up the worst hill ever. Thank goodness that the running was actually working out today. So sorry for the people who were in the accident though.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Being Predictable
We went to my cousin's wedding yesterday. Beautiful day, beautiful couple.
For us it also meant obligatory posing by fountains. So predictable!
For us it also meant obligatory posing by fountains. So predictable!
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Memories
I think the memory of smell is maybe the strongest. You know how you walk into a school and smell cafeteria food, and you are flooded with your childhood in school. Or, you walk into a library and smell musty books and remember the public library you went to as a kid. My grandfather always smelled like a mix of sweat, saw dust, and aftershave. I think he used Aqua Velva. It sat in a glass jar in his bathroom and was bright blue like Listerine. He did a lot of wood working in his shop in the back yard that was full of treasures and always smelled of mildew and sawdust. Remembering the way that building smelled is so easy. Isn't it wild how you can remember a smell? So, whenever Will is building something, he comes in and smells just like my grandfather, minus the aftershave. The combination of saw dust and sweat and dirt. We've also been eating actual breakfast on the weekends. Because of the fresh eggs from our chickens, the idea of eating breakfast has become a bit more exciting. Will actually cooks, and I think breakfast on Saturdays should be cooked by the husband. It's just better that way. So, what goes better with eggs? Um, bacon. This morning we had yummy eggs and bacon for breakfast and then ran out to hit the produce market. Okay, really it's the flea market. I would like to call it a farmer's market, but it's just not. So, I have settled for produce market. Another story for another time. We just got home and when we walked in the house, the smell of breakfast was still lingering. You might think that's gross, but all I thought was that this is exactly what my grandparents' house smelled like after breakfast too.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Mercurious Mad Hatters
A few years ago, I posted about Mercury. Read that here (if you are bored.)
Then, today I was teaching science classes ALL DAY and learned some more about the role of mercury. Seventh graders were putting together a book about the elements from the periodic table. I know nothing about this really except that the symbol for gold is Au. I was teaching them how to write a narrative about their element. We mini-lessoned it up, and then as they were working, this kid told me all about mercury and its role in making hatters mad. Yes, as in THE mad hatter from Alice in Wonderland. Apparently, hat makers inhaled/absorbed mercury in the process of hat making and this made them "mad" or crazy or whatever. Hence, the name. I wikipediaed it just to check. Here's an article if you are interested. I love that seventh graders teach me things.
The thing I love the most though is that all day I held onto this tidbit of information just waiting to get home and tell Will while we ate dinner. If you know Will, you know he is full of random facts. If you ever think you know a fact and you share it with Will, he quickly tells you why you're wrong and spouts off the "correct" information. This is either endearing or annoying depending on your mood. I just knew he wouldn't know about mad hatters and mercury because surely after all these years he would have told me about that. We even watched Alice together and no mention of mercury. So, at dinner I sprung this shocking news about mercury on him, and he said, "Um, I think it's lead not mercury. Who told you that?" I responded, "A seventh grade boy." He responded, "Oh. It's definitely lead." Thank goodness there is always a laptop on the kitchen table. After a quick google search, it was confirmed to be mercury. What this means:
I WIN! I WIN! I WIN!
I don't ever get to win in the random information game that I've been playing with my husband since I met him in 2003.
I WIN!
Then, today I was teaching science classes ALL DAY and learned some more about the role of mercury. Seventh graders were putting together a book about the elements from the periodic table. I know nothing about this really except that the symbol for gold is Au. I was teaching them how to write a narrative about their element. We mini-lessoned it up, and then as they were working, this kid told me all about mercury and its role in making hatters mad. Yes, as in THE mad hatter from Alice in Wonderland. Apparently, hat makers inhaled/absorbed mercury in the process of hat making and this made them "mad" or crazy or whatever. Hence, the name. I wikipediaed it just to check. Here's an article if you are interested. I love that seventh graders teach me things.
The thing I love the most though is that all day I held onto this tidbit of information just waiting to get home and tell Will while we ate dinner. If you know Will, you know he is full of random facts. If you ever think you know a fact and you share it with Will, he quickly tells you why you're wrong and spouts off the "correct" information. This is either endearing or annoying depending on your mood. I just knew he wouldn't know about mad hatters and mercury because surely after all these years he would have told me about that. We even watched Alice together and no mention of mercury. So, at dinner I sprung this shocking news about mercury on him, and he said, "Um, I think it's lead not mercury. Who told you that?" I responded, "A seventh grade boy." He responded, "Oh. It's definitely lead." Thank goodness there is always a laptop on the kitchen table. After a quick google search, it was confirmed to be mercury. What this means:
I WIN! I WIN! I WIN!
I don't ever get to win in the random information game that I've been playing with my husband since I met him in 2003.
I WIN!
Do I Look Hungry?
I sure feel hungry lots of times, but this weekend I was gifted with food by three lovely people. It was perfect timing too because Friday was a day at work that could set a record for being the worst work day of all time, sending me into a downward spiral by the time I got home for the weekend. Have you ever been sitting at work, in a meeting perhaps, and suddenly lose all sense of yourself? Due to whatever terrible events are unfolding all around, you realize that you don't know who you are, what your job is, why anyone ever thought you were capable of having the unidentifiable job, etc. etc. The big thing about these days is that they come out of nowhere and sort of run you over. Before they are truly finished, they back up and run over you again just for good measure. So that was Friday. The immediate result was a mani/pedi and a margarita. Both of these helped restore clarity to some degree, but the ugh-ishness lurked into Saturday. Poor Will. That's all I can say. He mentioned school (as in graduate school), and I burst into tears. At the time I was lying in the bedroom floor. You can picture the rest. Poor Will.
After the minor meltdown, I headed downtown to get a haircut. I LOVE the hair salon I go to. It's called Shine and is on Rosewood for my Columbia friends. My stylist is the best ever. Though she can give you a great haircut, she has a knack for remembering stuff you tell her and then asking about it the next time you see her. This makes people like me feel special, and so I love her. Plus, I started going to her when she worked at another salon, but last spring, she opened her own shop, Shine, and I'm just proud to know someone who is brave enough to launch out on her own. Her sister is receptionist, shampoo girl, greeter extraordinaire, and helped me out last year when I went to Philadelphia with a whole list of places I had to go. On my trip I picked up a bunch of Tasty Kakes for my two hair pals because that was what they said they missed most about Philly, which is where they are from. Well, this weekend they returned the favor. After I'd paid and scheduled the next appointment, I was presented with a gift of Tasty Kakes straight from Philly. They went home for a wedding and were sweet enough to share some of their TK stash with me. Love those girls. I'm not the hugest fan ever of Tasty Kakes, but I can definitely down them on a Saturday when life seems to be taking the fun out of...well, life.
The day continued with a giant nap to recover from the mack truck meeting on Friday. Late Saturday night, my sister texted me to tell me she was making me some "surprises." WHAT!? Surprises, for me? Already, no matter what it would be, I was happy. I love surprises from my sister. So I begged for the info, and she told me that she had a whole bunch of stuff to bring me on Sunday. Homemade chicken noodle soup, a bowl of chopped up veggies and yummy dip to aid in efforts to eat vegetables, and brownies. Wow, I almost cried. My sister can feel my vibes of being overwhelmed. We also chatted on Saturday, and it may have been clear that I was on the verge of lying in the bedroom floor in tears again. So, she took care of me. LOVE my sister. And I will admit that all I could think about today was eating a brownie when I got home after the longest day ever. I even went to the gym at 5 this morning, so that I could have a brownie minus the guilt.
The third foodie gift was from our neighbor. She gave an aluminum-foiled wrapped something to Will over the fence. I asked him what it was; he didn't know. Who takes food without asking what it is? Husbands. So, I unwrapped it to find what looked like a jelly roll or something. He then recalled something about it being a prune log. Really? Yes, apparently. A prune log. Can't say I've had one of those before. We haven't dug into that yet, but at the rate we're been going we might get desperate by Wednesday or Thursday. Maybe.
After the minor meltdown, I headed downtown to get a haircut. I LOVE the hair salon I go to. It's called Shine and is on Rosewood for my Columbia friends. My stylist is the best ever. Though she can give you a great haircut, she has a knack for remembering stuff you tell her and then asking about it the next time you see her. This makes people like me feel special, and so I love her. Plus, I started going to her when she worked at another salon, but last spring, she opened her own shop, Shine, and I'm just proud to know someone who is brave enough to launch out on her own. Her sister is receptionist, shampoo girl, greeter extraordinaire, and helped me out last year when I went to Philadelphia with a whole list of places I had to go. On my trip I picked up a bunch of Tasty Kakes for my two hair pals because that was what they said they missed most about Philly, which is where they are from. Well, this weekend they returned the favor. After I'd paid and scheduled the next appointment, I was presented with a gift of Tasty Kakes straight from Philly. They went home for a wedding and were sweet enough to share some of their TK stash with me. Love those girls. I'm not the hugest fan ever of Tasty Kakes, but I can definitely down them on a Saturday when life seems to be taking the fun out of...well, life.
The day continued with a giant nap to recover from the mack truck meeting on Friday. Late Saturday night, my sister texted me to tell me she was making me some "surprises." WHAT!? Surprises, for me? Already, no matter what it would be, I was happy. I love surprises from my sister. So I begged for the info, and she told me that she had a whole bunch of stuff to bring me on Sunday. Homemade chicken noodle soup, a bowl of chopped up veggies and yummy dip to aid in efforts to eat vegetables, and brownies. Wow, I almost cried. My sister can feel my vibes of being overwhelmed. We also chatted on Saturday, and it may have been clear that I was on the verge of lying in the bedroom floor in tears again. So, she took care of me. LOVE my sister. And I will admit that all I could think about today was eating a brownie when I got home after the longest day ever. I even went to the gym at 5 this morning, so that I could have a brownie minus the guilt.
The third foodie gift was from our neighbor. She gave an aluminum-foiled wrapped something to Will over the fence. I asked him what it was; he didn't know. Who takes food without asking what it is? Husbands. So, I unwrapped it to find what looked like a jelly roll or something. He then recalled something about it being a prune log. Really? Yes, apparently. A prune log. Can't say I've had one of those before. We haven't dug into that yet, but at the rate we're been going we might get desperate by Wednesday or Thursday. Maybe.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Things I've Learned This Week
1. It is possible to navigate a middle school all day in white pants and not get them dirty. It is possible to go get two iced coffees and juggle them across the road to class without spilling on white pants. It is not possible to sit in class and drink iced coffee without spilling it all over white pants. UGH.
2. Kids in college have ridiculous conversations. We had to do an observation for class in the Russell House at USC. The girls behind me were having a conversation about needing a date for something. They deemed Thursday "boy shopping day." That's tomorrow. Boys, watch out. You are being shopped for on Thursday! This is the oddest terminology ever. I never thought like this. The one girl who needed to go shopping was talking to her friend, "I just don't get why I don't have a date. I mean, I talk to guys, I'm outgoing, but they don't seem to talk to me really...blah blah blah." Then her friend reminded her, "Boys do talk to you. You're just always wasted, so you don't remember." Say whaaaa? Okay, I know we've all been there, but I swear I never had a conversation like that and I for sure never said I was going boy shopping. To wrap it all up, the girls started making those sounds that you make when you aren't drunk but are talking like you are--it comes out like a bunch of sounds really which ends in giggles. This was the weirdest conversation and made me so happy to be 29 in grad school and not 20 in college.
3. It is possible to be so tired/stressed that your body hurts as a way of revolting.
4. A crazy lady could stop you in your driveway while you're trying to back out in the morning for work (which is a very precarious situation if you live on a giant hill) to talk to you about your chickens. That happened this morning. As I was launching up the hill, backwards, I looked back and saw the crazy lady who walks her dog and picks up trash in our neighborhood. She's nice crazy, but still crazy. So, I see her at the top of the driveway and think maybe I was about to hit her. To be nice I stop for her to go by. Then I see she's walking over to my car, I mutter bad words, turn down the music, roll down the window, and she sticks her head in my window practically to say in her high-pitched voice: "You have chickens?" Me: "Yes." "How many?" Me: "5." "Are they a lot of upkeep?" Me: "No." "Do they give you enough eggs?" Me: "Yes." "Do they try to get out of the yard?" Me: "No, you clip their wings." "Will they be more work in the winter?" Me: "Why the hell are we having this conversation at 7:30 in the morning before I've had my coffee and as I'm trying to get to work and why is your head in my window crazy lady!?" Okay, well, that last part didn't really happen, and I did respond with more than one-word responses, but still...really?
5. Homemade chocolate frosting in the fridge becomes fudge. I didn't know this until I pulled out the container of leftover frosting from my sister's birthday cupcakes prepared with a spoon and a plan to console myself after a hard day only to find out that it was hard like fudge. Works for me.
6. And I quote: "It is okay to believe things that are completely incomprehensible and don't go together at all." My professor said that, and I think she's totally right on.
2. Kids in college have ridiculous conversations. We had to do an observation for class in the Russell House at USC. The girls behind me were having a conversation about needing a date for something. They deemed Thursday "boy shopping day." That's tomorrow. Boys, watch out. You are being shopped for on Thursday! This is the oddest terminology ever. I never thought like this. The one girl who needed to go shopping was talking to her friend, "I just don't get why I don't have a date. I mean, I talk to guys, I'm outgoing, but they don't seem to talk to me really...blah blah blah." Then her friend reminded her, "Boys do talk to you. You're just always wasted, so you don't remember." Say whaaaa? Okay, I know we've all been there, but I swear I never had a conversation like that and I for sure never said I was going boy shopping. To wrap it all up, the girls started making those sounds that you make when you aren't drunk but are talking like you are--it comes out like a bunch of sounds really which ends in giggles. This was the weirdest conversation and made me so happy to be 29 in grad school and not 20 in college.
3. It is possible to be so tired/stressed that your body hurts as a way of revolting.
4. A crazy lady could stop you in your driveway while you're trying to back out in the morning for work (which is a very precarious situation if you live on a giant hill) to talk to you about your chickens. That happened this morning. As I was launching up the hill, backwards, I looked back and saw the crazy lady who walks her dog and picks up trash in our neighborhood. She's nice crazy, but still crazy. So, I see her at the top of the driveway and think maybe I was about to hit her. To be nice I stop for her to go by. Then I see she's walking over to my car, I mutter bad words, turn down the music, roll down the window, and she sticks her head in my window practically to say in her high-pitched voice: "You have chickens?" Me: "Yes." "How many?" Me: "5." "Are they a lot of upkeep?" Me: "No." "Do they give you enough eggs?" Me: "Yes." "Do they try to get out of the yard?" Me: "No, you clip their wings." "Will they be more work in the winter?" Me: "Why the hell are we having this conversation at 7:30 in the morning before I've had my coffee and as I'm trying to get to work and why is your head in my window crazy lady!?" Okay, well, that last part didn't really happen, and I did respond with more than one-word responses, but still...really?
5. Homemade chocolate frosting in the fridge becomes fudge. I didn't know this until I pulled out the container of leftover frosting from my sister's birthday cupcakes prepared with a spoon and a plan to console myself after a hard day only to find out that it was hard like fudge. Works for me.
6. And I quote: "It is okay to believe things that are completely incomprehensible and don't go together at all." My professor said that, and I think she's totally right on.
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