my love affair with fritos

As you may have noticed by now, dear readers, many of my stories have to do with food or my childhood - this one is both! Lucky you! :)

I adore fritos - not the barbecue or the jalapeno - or all that nonsense but the delicious, crunchy, greasy, bad for you, but now at least they have no 'trans fats' (as IF that makes it healthy), original fritos. My love affair with fritos started very early, so early I can never remember not loving them. The most likely reason for my deep and lasting emotional devotion to this mecca of corn chips is ... they were completely forbidden by my mother. But thankfully, for Frito Lay's profit margins in later years (since I have single handedly kept them in business), NOT by my father! (aren't dads great!!!)

So while they were strictly off-limits at the house, there were no such restrictions when with dad on a saturday afternoon at the pool!! Oh yeah!!! Imagine my delight when I approached the vending machine, face glowing with anticipation, palms sweating slightly to be able to have the whole bag to myself...oh rapture!!! Then at last, there they were, in my hands - the golden chips that surely the angels had made (Haleluhia...Haleluhia...angelic choir in the background) - they were that good to me.

and the best part...
and i know that i am not the only one who has done this...

I would gently and carefully carry my beautiful bag of fritos to the table, where quietly waiting was our 'super healthy' classic 70's lunch ... yes, a bologna sandwich on processed white bread (still my favorite) with neon yellow mustard. And then...Mmmmm...('memories, like the shadows of my mind...misty water-colored memories...') oh - wow! Sorry - where was I - oh yes, sandwich. I would open my sandwich and pour the entire bag of fritos on it, put to top piece of bread on it - and smash the whole thing together as flat as possible, crunching all of the fritos into the bologna. This is a very important step, by the way - should you want to try this at home (medical disclaimer, I assume no responsibility or liability for the potential coronary) - because it keeps the fritos in the sandwich. Crucial step.

It is the most perfect combination of textures and tastes the world has to offer!! (not that I am viewing it from the rosy glow of childhood or anything, phshh - silly you!!) The squish of white bread slathered with scrumptious mustard that drips onto your fingers while you crunch into the heaven that is known as fritos, followed by the meaty goodness of bologna -- ahhhh!!!

Just soooo yum-a-luscious! (I think I need a moment) haha

With all that in mind, I am pretty sure that I have never been able to only have a few fritos - usually it is at least half a bag, if not all of it.

I have noticed in my ongoing desire of fritos that not all fritos products are created equal..."Scoops" taste totally different than fritos, and not in a good way. And yes, I was very disappointed and I don't deal with disappointment well. (those of you who know me will - no doubt - agree) Why they taste so different I am not altogether sure, I can only ponder that the larger chip just doesn't soak up the grease in the same delectable way. (pity)

As with any good love affair, you are always exploring and learning something new about each other, so it is with fritos and I - which actually inspired tonight's story...

I was delicately nibbling (ok, not!) on my fritos, cheese, and carrots for dinner (yes, I said dinner - no I am not apologizing, at least there were carrots!) and I discovered that fritos taste even better when you stuff 20+ in your mouth all at once versus just eating them one at a time! Eureka!!! :) How could I have been missing out on this all this time!!

Really, try it, you will see!

They are also fabulous with peanut m&m's, and topped with chili, and...well,
I am beginning to guess that this is why I always eat at least half the bag!! Bon Appetite!

paper clothes

There are few things that compare to the level of awkward vulnerability that I feel sitting in the doctor's office, on the little table (which even I feel too big for), stark naked except for two pieces of paper 'clothing' - and I use that term very liberally!!

They are either too big or too small for 99.9% of the population - how is that possible, that they are designed to fit absolutely no one - manage never to cover anything - and rip or disintegrate at the slightest touch.

Meanwhile, half way betwixt properly clothed and not (since the strips of paper don't really count) the doctor invariably walks in ... when I am half-naked, balancing on one foot in an attempt to remove pantyhose, without falling over (major challenge for me!!) and there is the startled embarrassed pause...
'oh, excuse me' - says the doctor...

Somehow this same doctor, who is about to look me over stem to stern in another 30 seconds, is backing out of the room sheepishly as if they have just caught their parents having sex. And now I am trying to undress even quicker because I am not sure what happens if the doctor comes back twice and you're not ready...they may just send you home, I don't know... but not a risk I wanted to take. I get up on the table and attempt some sort of sarong wrapping and fastening with the ridiculous paper ties to cover myself with the two pieces of transparent, fragile, tissue paper that they have provided me with, just as the doctor is walking back in. Whew, just in time!!!

To make matters more fun, when the doctor comes back into the sub-zero office (and may I ask why the f___ do doctor's office have to be the temperature of Antarctica? is that really necessary? wouldn't a mere 65 degrees be sufficiently chilly? ... apparently not) I am now gripping the paper covering to find a modicum of warmth - the 'cloth' is already showing signs of turning to shreds, shivering, half-purple...and...the doctor asks me to take the top off...
Well! couldn't we have just done this 30 seconds ago when you walked in the first time! I already had my top off!

Fine!! As I go to take the top off the ties refuse to untie or tear ... and while the rest of the top is willing to melt away with a strong breath, the ties are apparently teflon and refuse to budge! Awesome!! Then I get images of the Incredible Hulk flashing through my mind, but it seems just a little too 'in the moment' for even me, to just rip the shirt off and cast it aside in true Dr. Bruce Banner fashion. I shimmy out of the shoulders, roll it down to my waist and ... the doctor begins putting their ICE COLD hands on me - I mentioned that the office is Antarctica right?! And of course, my body instantly reacts...cold is cold!! My mortification levels have reached unquantifiable proportions because I look aroused when I am simply freezing and the same paper shirt that I was previous viewing with such disdain (and silently cursing) is now like a life raft after being shipwrecked in the middle of the Atlantic!!! Can I go now!

This is merely one of the 3 million reasons that I detest going to the doctor!!!

I know after the story this may be heavy, but I feel I must dedicate this post (not to make light but in the hope that others will send strength to them by their thoughts) to the poor sweet couple who lost their baby yesterday while I was at the doctor's office. I don't know who they were - what their names were, but my heart broke for them - over-hearing what had happened, seeing the look on their faces. It was overwhelming. My dearest wish is that for every tear that they cry now, blessings ten-fold will be poured at their feet.

practicing safe text 101

1. When entering a bar or alternatively alcohol related environment, turn your phone over to your friend (be sure it is a good friend!! other wise matters could get worse for you), have them reset the password lock so that you don't know what it is, and then turn the phone off. You WILL thank them tomorrow.

2. Say your boss's name is "Jim Jones" and your friend, that you text randomly at 2 o'clock in the morning about your sexual exploits is "Jim Jacobs" - do yourself a favor...Give your 'friend' Jim a nickname ( like 'Satan' perhaps. :) )... that moves him as far away as possible in your address book from your boss! Not that I would have e-v-e-r had anything like that happen to me ... well, at least not recently ... well, at least not yesterday...

3. When you have finally split up with that 'horrible' significant other but you do not want to delete them from your address book, because if they call you want to knowingly ignore their 'stupid, nasty, sh*theaded' self. But then miraculously they redeem themselves several weeks later and you are back together, remember to change their name back from 'stupid, nasty, sh*thead' in your contacts! (trust me...)

4. There are times when even your best friends will not understand "eafoen nivjt farnin" - no matter how many times you re-text it.

5. It may be better just to leave spell check turned off.

6. Deciding at 3 o'clock am on Saturday morning, after an eight hour block of partying, to simultaneously text friends (and ex-lovers) and then be upset and delete the texts (thereby inadvertently standing up your friend, that you agreed to have brunch with the next day, but have no recollection of it, because you deleted it), should be avoided at all possible costs.

(See suggestion #1 above)