Tell me yours, I'll tell you mine.

I was reading a story the other day about guilty pleasures, and it got me a-thinkin' about some of my own. So here goes.

Kraft Mac & Cheese. Especially the spiral noodles. I know it doesn't really have any redeeming nutritional qualities, but I still enjoy this taste of my childhood. I like to dress it up now with a little curry powder. Or some fresh cherry tomatoes. But I'll take it plain too. I occasionally sneak this onto the menu on nights when The Mr. is off doing something else.

Dilly Bars. And while I'm on the subject of "food," does anything beat a run to DQ for a dilly bar? Nowadays, most locations have the pre-made dilly bars made in a factory somewhere. It's nice to have the option to buy dillys all boxed up to take home, but I do miss the originals. You know, the ones made and dipped right in the store with the little soft-serve belly button in the middle? There's actually a DQ not far from my house that still makes this kind. It's not the closest location, but it's worth the extra mile or two.

Barry Manilow. As a kid, I probably had more Barry Manilow vinyls than any other artist. Today, his greatest hits live happily on my ipod. Oh! And also Barry Manilow sings Frank Sinatra. That album is great too.

Milli Vanilli. Ok, they're on my ipod too. I'm pretty sure I got the cd from Sarah. Come on, you have to admit no matter who was actually singing, those were some catchy tunes. I got to check out the MTV Jams tour with Milli Vanilli and Tone Loc in 1989 and it was pretty much the best day of life. B-buh-buh-buh baby...

Powerline. Sometimes I like to check out this blog to see what's getting the dark side all worked up. Reading this site always makes me feel so, oh, I don't know, intellectually superior. (I just don't have it in me to actually sully my blog with an actual link to their site though...)

My childhood hometown newspaper. I don't think this is really a guilty pleasure, but it's something I do that cracks me up. The Yankton Daily Press and Dakotan site always has a weekly reader poll. I'm a regular voter in this poll, which for some reason I find hilarious. Probably because I'm one of usually somewhere between 150-200 voters, and I'm nearly always in the serious minority. I wonder if I'm the only "outsider" who votes. I also really wonder who picks the questions. Right now it's "Are you ready for school to start again?" (47% yes) but a few weeks ago it was "Should the US trust Pakistan as an ally in the war on terror?" (84% no). Any local P&D readers who can look into that for me would be appreciated.

American Idol. Can't leave this off the list! It's currently my only reality TV fix. I'll admit it, I'm a fan. I missed the boat the first season (Kelly Clarkson rocks!), but have been a faithful viewer ever since. I toyed around with The Apprentice for a couple seasons, but that didn't have the staying power of Idol. (Ok, fine, I also watched Joe Millionaire that first season, but that was a one-time only mistake.)

And last but not least, sleeping in! I had more or less been out of the habit of really sleeping in on the weekends, but lately The Mr. and I have rediscovered this simple (but sometimes guilty) pleasure. Seems our schedules have gotten a little out of hand lately, and after long weeks at work and busy evenings after work, by the weekend we're pretty much exhausted. Nothing says happiness like turning off the alarm. Then it's just a matter of waiting to see how long the neighbors will wait to start mowing their laws on Saturday morning. (Today it was only 8:45 - boo!) It's rare, but sometimes we can make it until 10:00. Yee haw!

So, how about you?

What's worse, they paid somebody for that advice...

Mike's comment on my previous post reminded me of this:

For many years now, I've been a devotee of Cottonelle toilet paper. I mean, I won't even consider another brand. A couple days ago I picked up a new 12-pack and noticed that Cottonelle has redesigned packaging. Featuring puppies and fluffy blankets. WTF? Who thinks up this stuff? This is supposed to attract me as a comsumer to this product? Puppies have nothing to do with toilet paper! (I'd argue that the fact that puppies don't use toilet paper is a perfectly good reason not to have puppies around, but I digress.) And check out out the website. It features stoopid puppy stuff like puppy computer wallpaper and puppy coloring book pages over their actual PRODUCTS! If I had Cottonelle stock, I'd sell it all immediately. Well, except I will keep buying their toilet paper.

Things I Hate

Ok, I'll admit to being slightly opinionated. Some have also suggested I'm given to hyperbole. So really, the title of this post lends itself to any number of possible entries. It could be about cilantro. Really, that would be the most obvious guess. It could also be about NASCAR. It could defintely be about that horrific new "viva viagra" commercial on tv with the appalling men's garage jug band. (If you haven't seen or heard this commercial, count your blessings. Seriously, start counting right now.) But no, today's entry is dedicated to this:


Tree rats. More commonly known as squirrels. And this is what they do! They spy on you! And they use the counterintelligence they collect to make your life miserable.

It's difficult for me to put my hatred of squirrels into words. For sure I need a lot of bad words. First, let's just start with the word squirrel. Say it out loud. Squirrel. A few more times. Squirrel, squirrel, squirrel. What a stupid, phonetically unpleasant word.

But that's not all. Living in the upper midwest, every spring I'm practically beside myself waiting for the temperatures to warm up enough to get out in my flower garden. And oh all the glorious pots and planters I have to fill! Probably close to 30 of them! I spend hundreds of dollars and dozens of hours carefully, lovingly selecting plants that are best suited for their container's location. I transplant them. I water them. I fertilize them. (I've not yet talked to them...) I wait patiently for them to repay my love by blooming profusely and filling my summer with their beauty. They bring me joy.

But tree rats.

They spy on me. They wait until each pot is filled. They wait until I'm not looking. And then they dig. Oh, how they dig. And not to eat my plants either. That might be understandable. No, they just dig for the hell of it. To fill me with rage. To make me insane. They dig to fling my baby plants all over the place, leaving their tender roots exposed, to bake in the sun on the concrete patio until I get home to see the carnage.

I try to rescue the plants. I replant them, sometimes replace them. I water them again. Typically, the next day, I come home to the same scene. We repeat this dance, the squirrels and I, until eventually they lose interest. And they usually do lose interest. I've attempted to hasten their interest-losing by sprinking hot pepper around my plants. (Take that!) Squirrels don't care. The Mr., fearing total mental collapse in his wife, one day came home with this:


But it ridded no critters. Yes, I even bought a whole bunch of bamboo skewers and stuck them in my pots, pointy side up, as a bit of a medievil punishment for the tree rats. (True story.) No dice. Dig, dig, dig.

A week or two goes by, and I'd like to think I win (I do enjoy winning), but eventually they just stop. Whichever plants have weathered the storm grow in peace, and that's the end of it. Flowers flourish. Blooms spead beauty and joy. Or at least, that's always been the end of it.

What did I find yesterday? A whole row of gerbera daisys, stems pointing skyward... and totally empty on top. ARGH! Nothing but a nibble mark where the bloom used to be. And nearby, a patch of yellow petals. And a short distance away, a patch of orange petals. And underneath the maple tree, a giant pile of red petals.

Please, if you drive by my house and you see a squirrel, hanging in noose in the front yard as a warning to all other comers, don't think me crazy. Just know I've had it. I swear, if they touch my tomatoes...

Pay Attention Grasshopper

I got a blogging lesson from Emily. (See, I just demonstrated how I learned to make links.) Here is what Emily looks like:

(Em is a very good sport for teaching me how to post pictures from the hard drive with a picture of herself.)

I also learned how to italicize.

And type in bold face. (or blod, depending on your typing/spelling skills.)

Finally, I learned how to post random internet pictures. Emily picked this picture, although I didn't protest because I am a Beyonce fan.