Atomic fireballs.

I received this email from Miz Liz today. With permission, I am sharing it with you…

Hi. As I sit here enjoying an atomic fireball (purchased on Sunday at the Visionary Arts Museum Gift shop – did you know that it’s one of my favorite candies?), I found myself pondering its caloric content. Much to my surprise, I learned that there is no cinnamon in an atomic fireball. Go figure. Here are the fun facts from everything2 for the geek in us all…

• There is NO CINNAMON in an Atomic Fireball.
• In 1954, Nello Ferrera (the son of famed confectioner Salvatore Ferrera) came up with idea to create a spicy candy.
• Within three weeks of presenting his ‘Atomic Fireball’ to the candy industry, Ferrara Pan was taking in orders of over 50,000 cases a day.
• It takes two weeks to make an Atomic Fireball.
• Starting from a single grain of sugar, placed in a heated revolving drum. The grain is tossed around while ingredients like liquid sugar and artificial flavoring are added. When the ball reaches the desired size, it’s polished, glazed, and packaged with its fiery brethren.
• Over 15 million fireballs are consumed each week… 2 million sent out in each truckload.
• One piece has 40 calories, 0g fat, 0mg sodium, Calories: 40
• Ingredients: Sucrose, Contains Less Than 2% Of The Following: Corn Starch, Artificial Flavor, Carnauba Wax, Corn Syrup, Color Added, Yellow #5, Yellow #5 Lake, Blue #1, Blue #2, Yellow #6, Red #40, Red #40 Lake, and Red #3.

I love those things! Must rush out and buy some now. They are MUCH better than Hostess snoballs.

Suit envy.

In my previous life, I worked in an ad agency. It was hard work, but it was pretty darn fun most of the time. I was surrounded by smart, creative people. I dressed nicely and went to meetings where I spoke and people listened (sometimes). I went to parties. It was pretty nifty. And then, I got knocked up. (I know, that makes it sound like a mistake. It wasn’t. But it sure changed things.)

I found a nanny and went back to work 6 short weeks after the baby was born. Since Andrew was traveling 75% of the time — mostly to Southeastern California — leaving me home alone with our new baby, I have to say that some of the fun of the “fast life” was sucked out. Make that all of the fun was sucked out. So the day that Jenn told me that my kid’s first tooth was coming in, I collapsed. I was supposed to be the one to know that. Not her!

Needless to say, I put in my notice. I had a business idea that I just knew I could make work. I mean, if you subtract the cost of the nanny and the great clothes, how much would I need anyway?

So the kid was almost one and I was a business owner. It was great. I dabbled. And the business started to grow by referrals and such. I had another baby. Andrew was still in California every week staying in a crummy hotel, eating Mexican food, and helping to develop a geothermal energy plant. And the work kept coming. I had another baby. Okay, are you seeing a pattern here?

Just like the Clampetts, we packed up our things and moved. But east, not west. No more traveling. (No more babies!) Andrew joined me in growing the business. It’s been a fun ride. We have a bunch of people working for us. The work is stimulating. Great variety. Terrific clients. My own schedule. Amazing gig.

But.

Today, I was in a 5-hour series of meetings with a new client. I’ll be working with them for 3-4 months on some really interesting research initiatives. In the meeting were the key players from this client’s four, yes four, agencies. The PR agency, the advertising agency, the Hispanic agency and the promotions agency. They were smart and together and energizing. It was incredible. And though some were younger than me, most were seasoned professionals. I felt at home. I didn’t realize how much I missed being in that world.

Until I got home (after a delay on the metro) and hugged my boys.

I’m going to love this gig. But I’ll always love my family life more.

Hoops.

Yesterday was a day of hoops. Andrew took a break from our regular life and high-tailed it up to Philly with his Dad to see the Temple-Duke game.

Max and his “Georgia Tech” team took “Maryland” by 20 points. Great game for a bunch of 7-year olds. They played their little hearts out. Reed and his “Michigan” team played a great game, but were outplayed by the 8/9 year old “Georgetown” team.

The kids’ season is almost over. It’s been a lot of fun – particularly since the boys play basketball with essentially the same boys they play baseball with…so they know each other really well and the parents are becoming friendly, too. It’s very pleasant (albeit hectic) and most of the time, I enjoy it.

Yesterday, the “Georgetown” dads disappointed me, though. They didn’t say anything bad or mean to the “Michigan” kids. That would really suck. But they did shout and scream and really bordered on icky sports dads. I was bumming. I mean, who would yell at the ref for calling traveling or pushing or whatever when the kids are clearly doing their best and still learning? Ewww.

I have never been a big fan of the sport. Since Andrew is a huge fan, I try. Well, sometimes. But at any rate, I am learning more about the rules – the calls – the details of play. And the more I learn, the more I see that basketball is a lot like life in general.

• You are either in control, fighting to get control, backing up your colleague who is in control, choosing not to have control, or spacing out.
• You have to seriously watch your step — people are watching you.
• If you have control, someone wants to take it from you.
• Strength isn’t everything. Out-thinking works too.
• Speed is only important if it’s combined with control.
• Once you’ve committed to an action, you’d better follow through.
• Getting pissed off doesn’t help. It detracts from any progress you might have made.
• You have to trust your team. You can’t go it alone.
• Do your job. People are counting on you.
• Glory doesn’t last long.
• You can’t take yourself too seriously. Keep a good attitude. No one wants to play with a sore loser.
• It’s just a game. Have fun.
• You’ll get another chance.

Birds of a feather flock together.

I’m a fan of psychographic research. Although more and more I find that certain aspects of a person’s behavior can be “out there,” more often than not, one can find patterns between people who live in the same area, work in the same area, use the same products, services, etc. And there are correlations between what magazines people read and what they buy or if they watch certain sports and what they eat…. You get the point.

But, what about people who work for certain companies. Not industries, mind you. Companies. Why is it that the people who work for Nordstrom are all solicitous, polite, helpful and people who work at K-Mart are not. Okay, that’s an easy one (I think) since the folks at Nordstrom have great training programs and are paid commission. The workers at K-Mart probably make minimum wage. I get it.

But some companies – like the one today that came (finally – 5 hours late) to fix our brand new oven? Each person from A&E that I encountered was unpleasant. From the scheduler to the digitized reminder call. You know they didn’t even think it was a problem that they gave me an 8am-noon window and came at 4:46 pm? What the…..? The man I spoke to at 11:45 am was snippy. As was the woman at 12:30 pm. The tech was no Prince Charming on the phone either.

On the other hand, every person I talked to at Faucet Depot was polite and helpful. I spoke to someone very nice when I ordered a sink grid to fit my new undermount sink. When it arrived, it didn’t fit. Imagine my disappointment. So I called and spoke to Marilyn. I explained the situation – that the manufacturer had given me the part number and that it didn’t fit. She was more than willing to take it back and have me order a different one and she worked her butt off to help me find the right one to order. I had to terminate the call. Long story. When I called back, Steven was even nicer than Marilyn. He figured out that there was no grid that fit. He asked why I wanted a grid in the first place. I explained that I didn’t want a scratched up sink and he patiently explained to me how to care for the sink with Bar Keepers Friend and a Scotch Pad and that, unless I really wanted one, I didn’t need a grid.

My whole point is that one entire company gave a great impression and one entire company gave a terrible impression.

Do companies choose people that fit their personality profile or do people choose companies that fit their personality?

Or do they meld – kinda like people start looking like their dogs or spouses?

This is what I thought about today.

Wanted. Dead or Alive.

Busted again for reading in school.

It’s hard to prioritize when you are seven. Maybe he should have finished the worksheets in his unfinished work folder. But it’s hard when you’re in the middle of a really great book.

And still, I felt the shame of it all when I got the email from his teacher.

Maybe the punishment should be no reading for a week. Righhhhhhhhht. That’ll get us just where we want to be.

Wisdom.

A wise man once said, “If you are overwhelmed, do less.” See wise man to the right. I promised I wouldn’t put his name on this. So don’t ask. He is just some wise guy. Okay? Got it. And, HE is the one who wrote peach on the wall. But I digress.

I’ve been reading a lot of blogs lately. (Maybe that’s why I can’t finish anything!) A lot of you are bogged down with laundry, organizing, work, family, just a ton of stuff to get done! Me, too. Some days, I don’t know how I’ll ever finish. I took the advice of the wise man and stopped.

I left Andrew and the boys last night, jumped in my flashy mini-van, and headed south. All the way to the D.C. suburbs. Whew hoo! But wait awaited me was a lovely bottle of Spanish white wine, pleasant music, and dinner of my choice (Fish tacos, black beans, and homemade salsa). My friend and I sat and talked. We laughed. We relaxed. What is that, you ask? Well, I didn’t know either! We did nothing. It was heavenly.

And as I headed back to Stepford (after the glow of the wine wore off, of course) I had a new outlook and new energy.

Unfortunately, reality did rear its head again this morning, but I do love my three little realities! And I recognize how much a small break can change a mood.

Not me.

I’m not a racist. Who doesn’t think that? I’ve been consumed lately with thoughts of racists and bigots. First, a story from years ago….

I was a newlywed – with hub#1. We were at one of his best friends’ house with 2 other couples. The host made a despicable comment about African Americans. Fortunately, I can’t remember what it was exactly anymore. I called him on it. Loudly and, maybe, a bit too aggressively. But I was offended. And I was raised to believe that not standing up was as good as agreeing. So I stood up. The rest of the even was, well, a little strained.

We got home, hub#1 and I, and he tore into me. How could I embarrass him that way? My response was how could he not think that his friend’s comments were unacceptable. At any rate, this was probably an important turning point. We’d been married about 2 months. Yikes.

I’ve never forgotten how that felt. To be with someone with whose compass pointed so polar opposite from mine. And over the years, I’ve listened. And when I’ve heard rumblings of hate or racism or bigotry of any kind, I’ve moved on. It hasn’t been hard. Fortunately, my road has taken me to wonderful places where I’ve met great people with open minds and worldly attitudes. I have some great friends. I’m very lucky.

But recently, I read some things and had some conversations that make me very sad. I worry that so many are willing to consider some kinds of bigotry acceptable. And that they blame entire groups of people for the actions of a small subset. And even worse, that people are willing to hate on hearsay.

I don’t have a place this conversation is leading. I don’t know what to do with it really. I just can’t stop wondering if there is anything we can do. Anything I can do.

If nothing else, I can’t let my kids learn this. No matter what.

Propeller head.

I made some changes to the links on the blog. I have been a subscriber of Bloglines for some time, but never took advantage of some of the really neato capabilities. Like showing the blogroll. After much anxiety and trial and error, I changed the HTML on my site (whew, I need a drink!) and now all the blogs I chose to exhibit are there. The 3 that I read regularly that aren’t available are underneath. (Kristin, Tom, Steakbellie – why aren’t your feeds on Bloglines? Particularly you, Tom, because I can’t figure out how to get rid of that space before your blog link and it’s driving me crazy! If you get on Bloglines, I can just delete it & it’ll show up top! Please have mercy…)

One of the motivations for including the blogroll (instead of just the links I go to most often) was so that Andrew could easily get to waiter rant – he’s hooked. For the first time, I think he finally understands why I like this stuff. Part of me is thrilled that we can now share the joy of blogs and part of me feels he’s totally infringing on my turf. Now he’s sitting there chorkling and giggling and I want to know what’s so damn funny. It’s way more fun to be the laugher… But I digress.

Mostly, I’m quite pleased with myself. I learned how to make the blogroll happen, edit the template of my blog more than I ever had before. I’ve always been a bit of a propeller head in some ways. And now, I can add elementary HTML to the list of geeky skills…

Off to pop the cork from a bottle of Roederer Estate Anderson Valley Brut (a very nice and affordable sparkly, if you like that sort of thing!) , get dinner on the table, and snuggle with the boys for a movie. We’re still deciding between School of Rock (which we’ve seen so many times!) and Joe vs. the Volcano…

Cheers!

Single.

While I was standing still, holding the stereo equipment in place while Andrew hooked up the wires (which took what seems like hours!), feeling a little aggrevated and stressed about the process….I started to daydream. What would I do this weekend if I had no kids and no husband?

My first thought – go to the movies! After seeing Jenne’s post a couple days ago, I’ve been thinking a lot about all the Oscar nominated movies I have not seen. All but two of them. Sad. Very sad.

So I’d see a movie. What else? I’d say hang out with a friend and a bottle of wine – that sounds great. Except that all 3 of my non-married friends are totally booked this weekend. And the married ones? They have kids and basketball games and stuff. I know. Is it possible that a married friend would hang with me on a Saturday night? Possible. Not likely. Sad to say, but probably true.

I could sleep. But if I didn’t have to wake up so early, do laundry so late into the night…would I feel this exhausted? Maybe yes, maybe no. But I wouldn’t think sleep was the end all/be all since I’d have the chance more often. So scratch that.

I could go see my parents. Nope, they’re in Florida playing golf. I could call my groovy aunt but she’ll be out dancing up a storm. (She sent me a video today of her Argentine tango lesson. Very fun.)

So I could read. I have a pile of books I want to read – from mysteries to really serious shit. I could bake. But for whom?

Honestly, I would rather watch Survivor with Andrew & the boys tonight, go to the boys’ basketball games tomorrow and go to Lancaster on Sunday with the whole family to the North Museum to see the stars.

I think that today, the grass is greener on my side of the fence.

photo credit: Random Pixels Blog

The crack.

Get your mind out of the gutter. Yikes.

Everyone knows I’m renovating around here. Well, last week, the long awaited countertop arrived. I wanted something different. Something really groovy. Something NOT Stepford-like… so I ordered concrete. It’s all the rage on the west coast, but around here no one has ever heard of such a thing. I love it. Absolutely, positively love it.

Except that Andrew spotted a hairline fracture where the faucet is set in. And then we found 2 more in front of the sink. My brother, the materials engineer, talked to me about stress (I’m stressed, alright) and I, in turn, talked to the concrete ar-tiste.

It will be remade and installed properly, I am confident. But meantime, I can’t walk past it without seeing a crack…