Blogging Just To Blog

Why I Try Not to Eat Chicken Nuggets

Earlier this week, I went to McDonald’s with my girlfriend, her brother and his three-year-old son. We got our food and took back it to the car, my nephew and I eating in the backseat. Periodically, he would hand his dad things from the Happy Meal asking him to open the toy, the nugget box and when they checked the bags, I heard them say up front, “aww they forgot the sauce.” Apparently my nephew didn’t hear it and said, “Dad, can you give me the sauce? …Dad, sauce?” *sigh* this was it, I was going to have to break the news to him. “They forgot the sauce, sweetie.” I said. A quick look of pain came across his face, as if I’d just told him that Superman died. He took it well though; no further protests or even an “aww, man!” He just bit into his sauceless nugget.

Today I went to run some errands on my lunch break and stopped at McDonald’s on the way back to the office. I ordered a 10-piece and the woman specifically asked me what type of sauce I wanted. I got to the car and could smell the nuggets, the flavors of processed chicken and sweet & sour sauce mingling on my tongue already. Yet I get back to work, open the bag and…I’m sure you know. Superman had died. I work nowhere near McDonald’s and even if I did, my lunch break was over. I didn’t even think to ask for sauce since the woman who took my order had already assured me that my sauce of choice would be in the bag. So I sucked it up and took a page from my nephew’s book. I didn’t complain and bit into the nugget since there was no point in lunch being ruined. But the reason my nephew and I got so upset when the sauce wasn’t there: It’s because nuggets without sauce suck.

With sauce, it transforms the nugget into fatty fried goodness dripping with flavor! Without it, it’s just fatty fried meat(?) lumps. For 20 years McDonald’s has served nuggets and for 20 years I’ve had to eat them without sauce almost more times than I’ve eaten them with. I think with the new flavors that they have (don’t let anyone tell you that the new Sweet Chili sauce is delicious. They’re lying.) there mus

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Who’s that Girl

Fern Mayo

The Suicidal File Girl in What Women Want

Kitty, the flashing ex-secretary on Arrested Development

That popular bitch who sabotaged Jennifer Garner’s character in 13 Going on 30.

Recently, I was in a bar discussing this woman. I’m rattling off all the movies she’s been in. Usually she’s the sweet, but somehow not attractive enough to be the lead best friend. I’m rattling off the movies she’s played second fiddle in and all the companions at my table who have ever seen a chick flick are nodding in agreement. “Oh yeah! That girl! She was jLo’s assistant in The Wedding Planner too, wasn’t she?” Emphatic agreements ring out from the table. “What’s her name?” Silence rings out. We all scratch our temples and ponder a grain of rice in front of us, sip our beers waiting for someone to free us. 

I feel like I’m always bringing up Judy Greer; so much so that you’d think I would’ve been able to tell my tablemates what her name is. But yet, whenever this discussion comes up - of actors that we need, we know, we recognize the second they’re on screen - I fail to remember poor Judy’s name. I get home and pull up the IMDB page of The Village because I feel like she was in that too, wasn’t she? Why yes, she was. That movie was kind of garbage, but like a 7-11 off an empty highway, it was a comfort to see her familiar face. As a matter of fact, if I see a romantic comedy starring an actress over the age of 30 I want, no, NEED to see Judy hustling alongside her with a stack of papers freaking out because she ditched last week’s meeting in favor of getting it on with Patrick Dempsey.

But when is Judy’s big day? She’s got a remarkable career on her shoulders, nothing to sneer at. But what keeps Hollywood from making her a leading lady and keeping her the literal bff? Is she hard to work with? Does she make outrageous demands for her dressing room and make you bathe her chihuahua in Fiji water daily? Maybe she’s comfortable exactly where she is. If not, take a chance on her, movie makers. I want to see a romantic comedy starring her and another second banana male. Someone not so famous that he’ll upstage her, but still someone likable enough that we want to see. I’m thinking Justin Long. Either way, I’m still happy seeing Judy gracing my TV and movie screens in whatever she takes on. And when my friends and I inevitably have this discussion again, I’ll definitely remember her name.

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A Blast from the Past

The following is a journal entry that I wrote on September 12, 2003: 

I have an issue where I like to scare the shit out of West Hartford residents whenever I’m able. For those of you who don’t know, West Hartford is the town over from me though we’re worlds apart. Suburban, most of the kids have a drug and/or alcohol program by the time they’re 11. Democratic for the wrong reasons, pseudo-rich bastards who feel the world should cater to them, and if you’ve ever worked there, by the end of your first day, you feel completely degraded.

So today I’m in the car driving through Elmwood Center which is part of West Hartford, but for reasons I don’t understand, they’ve taken a small section of the town and named it Elmwood. Your letters can be addressed to Elmwood or West Hartford when you live there and they’ll go to the same place. It doesn’t make sense to me. Anyway…I’m trying to pull out of the driveway from Subway and a car has his left blinker on. Because he has it on, I predict that he’ll slow down and I can jump in front of him really quick before he turns into my driveway, but the asshole is just stupid, and he just has his blinker on because, i dunno, he’s a dumb tard. So I’ve pulled in front of him and I already knew I was wrong making the move anyway but then I was even more wrong cuz his ass didn’t make the turn. So he turns off his blinker and lays on his fuckin horn. The fact that he blew the horn pissed me off. He didn’t turn his blinker off so he was partially wrong but he blew the damn horn and I got pissed. So he pulls up next to me and tries to angrily stare me down. I held up my middle finger forcefully and shouted, “TURN THE FUCK AROUND!” He turned his head quickly and faced the light. At the next light we pulled up next to each other again and he wouldn’t look. I laughed. I’m not a scary person, but the West Hartford people fear me. So I scare them whenever I can.

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The One Where I Miss my Girlfriend

I haven’t been around much, but a lot has been going on. I just got back from a wedding in Aruba, which was absolutely beautiful. Seeing love bloom anew on the beautiful white sands of an impossibly blue beach was a breathtaking experience. But it really got me thinking, and I think I’ve decided that I’m kind of done doing romantic shit all by myself for the rest of the summer.

My girlfriend is talented enough to be spending her summer singing jazz tunes at a five star hotel in Hanoi, Vietnam. It’s one of those once in a lifetime experiences that you can’t pass up, and never in a billion years would I have ever asked her to. Now and then people say, “I can’t believe you let her go!” Well, last I checked, my girlfriend was a grown-ass woman (not to be confused with a grown ass-woman, as I’d imagine that would be scary) and I didn’t have to “let” her do anything. But beyond that, I would not want her to forgo her dreams simply because I would miss her. Unfortunately, I was not able to join her on this leg of her journey, but since I plan to be with her for somewhere around forever, there will be plenty more journeys for us to experience together. That said, I miss her and if I WAS the party in charge of “letting” one go somewhere, I’d strongly consider putting the kibosh on that shit next time around.

Four months is a long time to be without the person you love. Especially when the summer is beautiful and you want to hold the hand and look into the eyes of the one you love and look at beautiful things together. If I were single, I’d be doing everything alone and loving it. But it’s different knowing that I’m very much not single and the person that I want to do things with is simply busy right now. I’ve started to notice myself being that bitterly single woman. The woman who sneers, “get a room!” to the couple kissing, all the while petting the cat laying on her FUPA. (Petting my cats is a top 5 pastime right now.) Originally I said I’d just keep living my life like “fuck da haters” (I don’t know who the haters are in this case, but fuck ‘em still.) and go places that she and I go. But then when I get there, people are like, “OH MY GOSH! You must REALLY miss Charmane! I mean, like, really. How are you alive right now? You must miss her so much that you want to vomit and cry all day! How do you sleep at night without the person that you love beside you? I know if the person I love was not sleeping beside me, then I’d be sleeping next to a bucket of tears cuz that’s how sad I’d be! Being alone must SUCK for you! But hey, she’ll be home before you know it! When’s she coming back? OCTOBER?! That’s the whole summer! And the fall! Oh my gosh, I’m going to kiss my spouse right now because I don’t even want to imagine what you’re going through!”

So I’m just going to stop trying to act like brunch is a meal for single people too. No more walking in the park because unless you have a dog, kid or partner, you look like an aimless weirdo. No paella for me.

I don’t want people to think I’m lonely, because that’s not it at all. I have plenty of friends and family, I’m absolutely surrounded and I love it. I’m just missing the company of a very specific person. Also, having a girlfriend means they will do almost anything that you want to do simply because they’re doing it with you. So if I want to see some craptastic movie that none of my friends want to see and then talk about it afterwards, I have a lovely companion to see the craptastic movie with who is contractually obligated to accompany me. No one is contractually obligated to see bad movies with me at the moment. My parents’ contract expired 10 years ago and judging by how they bashed their viewing of Friends With Benefits this weekend, they’re in no rush to renew. (though, why would two 55 year olds think they should watch a movie called Friends with Benefits anyway?)

Beyond her wifely obligations, I miss her. I’m a stone’s throw away from rubbing her perfume on a body pillow with her picture taped to it. But I wouldn’t trade anything for her to follow her dreams, because I know she’d patiently wait as I followed mine, and we’ll both walk hand in hand as we follow ours together.

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Car Horn Translations

I got a middle finger this morning because someone two cars ahead of me was under the light, couldn’t see that it was green and I gave them a courtesy beep. The car in front of me must’ve thought I was being a jerk and was rushing him, so I got a courtesy finger. I thought that it had been made clear that when cars behind you send out a short beep and you’re not the lead car, that beep is supposed to go around you to the offending car. And even so, a short beep is not insulting. It’s just a reminder to get back in the game.

When discussing it on the People’s Website for the Discussion of the Inane (otherwise known as Facebook) a few of my friends got into the courtesies of a honk, and what they say. So I’ve decided to write my own personal translation here because I think about these things too deeply, therefore I’m probably right about them.

Short beep from behind at a stoplight: “I don’t know if you noticed, but the lights green. Proceed to your destination safely, friend!”

Short beep next to you at a stoplight: “Look over here! Your tire may be flat, or perhaps your coat is caught in the door! Maybe I just would like to gaze into your eyes for a spell. Either way, it won’t kill you to look in my direction for a second.”

Short beep while in motion: “I don’t know if you saw me, but don’t switch lanes just yet!”

Long beep from behind at a stoplight: “I’m being really obnoxious about it, but the light has changed and I want you to go through it because I’m late for my fucking meeting, you asshole.”

Long beep next to you at a stoplight: “Hey dickface: You were just a jerk back there and I didn’t like it. Look over at me so I can throw my hands up in disgust and mouth ‘what the hell!’”

Long beep while in motion: “What are you thinking?! Seriously, what? Because I can’t get answers, I will release all my rage into this horn!”

A beep and a wave: “Thank you! It was really nice of you to let me merge so seamlessly! If I could hug you I would, but since we’re in motion, this honk will have to suffice.”

A beep and a finger: “The beep wasn’t enough. You are just a capital asshole right now.”

Two short beeps at a stoplight: “Hey! I know you! Hello! Look at me over here! Can you see me? Wait, let me roll down the window! Oops, light’s changing! Damn, now you looked.”

Five short beeps at any time: “Shave and a haircut…” to which you should respond with two longer beeps for the “two bits.”

La Cucaracha: Well that person is just awesome. Give them a power fist.

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Stop the Presses! Water is Wet and Taco Bell Might Be Weird!

Last week, some haters tried to blow up Taco Bell’s spot with the breaking news that the company is falsely advertising real beef. *gasp!* drive-through fare is questionable? Surely you jest! I thought that at this point we were all pretty sure that we have no idea what we’re putting in our bodies when it comes to fast food. I also thought that we were mostly comfortable with that. I’m not saying it’s the best excuse, but this is AMERICA. We have access to information at our fingertips that we choose to ignore because we’re free, dammit! “Isn’t it shameful that they inject so many hormones into baby cows so they grow up strong like bull?” “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you as I am cutting into a steak as big as my face.” 

While I can understand the disgust, I can’t possibly feel a sense of shock. It’s more like, “well now I know, and G.I. Joe once told me that knowing is half the battle. Now about those Nachos Bel Grande…” Aren’t tacos $1 there? I couldn’t possibly be getting the best meal for that kind of a price. When I know exactly what’s in my meat, it’s not usually getting scooped out of a 20 gallon pan with a sieved spoon. Am I going to do anything about it? Probably not. I invented slacktivism. Are the hundreds of people forwarding the link around going to do anything about it? Well I can’t speak for everyone, but how many of those same people that posted the link changed their picture to an 80’s cartoon for “child abuse awareness”? (seriously, what the hot hell does a picture of Cheetara have to do with a kid getting the shit beat out of him? No really, I’d like to know.)

There’s really no point to this post. I don’t have any suggestions. If the recent revelation makes you want to stay away from Taco Hell then that’s really good for you. I do wonder what you’ll eat while drunk, but I’m sure you’ll find something. If, like me, your body is a temple to trans-fats and sodium no matter the source, I’ll see you for our 1am chalupa.

p.s. Taco Bell says “hi haters” and that their meat is real. And it’s as healthy as you’d expect meat to be from a chain restaurant. 

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