Sloppy Joes, OH NO

My 4th up north was great, minus a slightly traumatic pre-dinner incident at The Bird House. See, I have some unresolved issues with sloppy joes. Yes, you heard right. Sloppy Joes. It all goes back to the days when I used to kick and scream the whole way to daycare and then purposely tried to be as much of a brat as possible so Mom would let me stay home. One day at lunch they served sloppy joes which I didn't like but was forced to eat mine, against my will. Just to show them who was boss, I cried so long I made myself throw up. Haven't had a sloppy joe since. Until this weekend.
Sitting in the kitchen, Mrs. Bird leaned over the granite counter raving about how amazing her sloppy joes are. "It has mustard, ketchup, vinegar...all sorts of good stuff!" Could we list a few more ingredients that I hate? Instead of voicing my true opinion, I graciously said, "Oh that does sound great, I'm just not a huge sloppy joe fan. If I were I'm sure I would love yours!" Smooth, right? I thought I was in the clear. NOT so.
"Oh no, you must try mine! People who don't usually like them love my special recipe," she said.
"No, I believe you! I'll try them later?"
Shaking her head with pursed lips at the absurdity of someone not liking sloppy joes she firmly stated, "You must try them. Now." With that she dug into the mucky mixture, scooped some up, and started pushing the nose of the mounded spoon toward me. I opened my mouth the tiniest bit, trying to keep some control over the amount I had to consume, but she was determined to shove in the entire utensil full.
"Oh, wow. That is really, wow." Blinking furiously to keep my watering eyes from betraying what a hard time I was having choking it down I half smiled/half grimaced.
"Isn't it the best?" Then she sweetly apologized, "Sorry they are cold but I just couldn't wait for you to see how great they are."
"Great. They are. Great. Even cold. Yeah."

Wednesday Wine

Sometimes, drinking wine on a Wednesday is not a stellar idea. This is what I thought to myself as I stood in front of the elevator, waiting for it to arrive and take me to work. What prompted this thought? The fact that I felt like I was late, looked at my watch and it said 2:25. Hey, even if I didn't remember to wind it at least I remembered to put it on. I think I'm going to stick with my sister's favorite excuse: I was overserved. Only problem is that I was the one pouring. Crap.

Mornings like this are the reason Taco Bell should be open for breakfast.

Mason jars = nalgene bottles?

In the past few weeks, I have noticed almost half a dozen people drinking water from mason jars. Are they the new Nalgene bottle? If so, no one told me. To fit in, I am now drinking out of a recycled glass salad dressing jar. Actually, I just got tired of the tiny little glasses they have in the kitchen at work so I decided to use the container I had brought soup in one day for lunch as a drinking glass. Maybe that is how everyone else ended up with their mason jars. Hard to say...

Another new development--I just found out that pudding is really really good. It used to gross me out. Now, I may or may not be slightly addicted to vanilla fat free snack packs. They are even better with fresh raspberries. YUM.