Inventions of a Simple Serenade

When I get an idea in my head, I sometimes can't get it out and then it festers and hijacks me and before I know it I'm talking to myself about it. My latest idea you ask? Signing up for clown classes at the community college? No, good guess! (hmm...) Give it all up and become a shoe cobbler? Good guess,...maybe someday. Nope, I'm afraid you're wrong, dear reader. I appreciate your good guesses (or rather the dialogue I just engaged in with myself). The idea that I just can't evacuate from my mind is...becoming a ukuleleist.

Now you just stop your roaring laughter! The ukulele has been an underdog of instruments and as an underdog in the human race, I think it's a good fit for me. No, it's not as cool as a bass guitar or the key-tar. People play the ukulele as a joke outside the window of their wanna-be-betrothed. You're probably imagining a gondola playing it to two lovers floating down a disgusting dirty rat-invested canal in Venice. Very well, yes I admit, the ukulele is guilty as charged and has been involved in all of those circumstances.

And while the great thinkers of our modern time debate the politeness of pet ownership or how to properly pronounce "tomato," I shall simply play my ukulele and bring joy to the peasants (perhaps to the occupiers?). The movement awaits it's leader! Alright, maybe I'm getting a bit ahead of myself, but here is why one ought to pick up a ukulele.

1. The ukulele translates to "jumping flea" (aka lice) in Hawaiian
2. It originates in Portugal (I have a crush on Christopher Columbus who was an honorary Portuguese citizen).
3. Isreal played it in his famous "over the rainbow" song
4. George Harrison played it
5. Billy Ray Cyrus did not play it (to my knowledge)
6. Many Hawaiian kings and queens were accomplished ukulele players
7. It only has four strings!!
8. It's sooo cute and tiny!

All reasons why the ukulele is a perfectly respectable hobby to launch. Next time you see a ukuleleist, I encourage you to be inspired by the four string delight and pick one up yourself and go and serenade your sweetie.

An Unavoidable Meltdown

Today I have my first ever melt-down related to technology. I know, it’s rather surprising since it is 2011 an the Internet’s been around since 1990. So, I suppose I’m doing pretty good.

I was trying to watch a speech therapy session and take data on the videotaped session (as it is difficult to watch a child's mouth, give feedback, instruct, listen and take data too - talk about divided attention!)

I shall now chronicle what led up to The Meltdown.

Day One

1. Weird error pops up when attempted to use videocard to play therapy session that I had videotaped (thus, I can’t capture data from speech therapy session and show progress over time).
2. Get IT guy to help me - he spends 45 minutes troubleshooting and comes up empty handed. Says it might be my version of Windows and that he’s never ever seen that error before.
3. Try secretary’s computer (different Windows version). No Work.
4. Try random supervisor’s computer (yet a different version of Windows). No Work.
5. Give up and think “oh well, it’s just one session.”

Day Two

6. Borrow classmates videocard to film therapy session (as mine will probably not work).
7. Go to play video and same error pops up that IT guy could not fix.
8. Say “Gah! Maybe it’s the camera.” Two days with no data.
9. Ask other camera if her videocard is working. She says “yeah, mine is fine” Hmmm...

Day Three

10. Try to take existing data and burn onto cd so I can get issued brand new videocard (We’re not allowed to have multiple ones as they are expensive and contain secret info on them). Am able to get ½ of data onto CD but CD runs out of space.
11. Try another CD.
12. CD will not formate.
13. Attempt to format it several times.
14. Get new CD. New CD won’t format either.
15. Try a different computer.
16. Ah it’s working!
17. Computer crashes.
18. Cannot get disc out of drive.
19. Try to articulate to secretary and support staff my problems.
20. Have meltdown.
21. Secretary gets up out of her chair walks out of her office and says “Breathe!” Opens her arms and gives me a really nice hug.
22. Get new IT lady to deal with problem.
23. Oh, the computer spits out disc - I must run to class.
24. We will meet up tomorrow and try to solve my multiple problems with CD’s, discdrives, Windows, computers and video cameras.

I would have to say, the most frustrating thing about all these 24 steps is the fact that I have successfully watched therapy sessions multiple times and then one day, what I’ve been doing all along suddenly doesn’t work. I try everything to fix it, and nothing works. Each step in the problem solving process only presents me with a new problem.

Sometimes many consecutive days do not go your way.
Sometimes meltdowns are unavoidable.

As they say: When it rains, it pours.

Stir Fry Chai

Lately one of my obsessions has been anything that has to do with indian cuisine. And I mean anything. Fenungreek seeds. Cumin. Nutmeg. Lamb.

It's my absolute newest obsession (probably soon to be surpassed by something as I'm rather fickle and have far more interests than is advisable). I've even been making my own chai and walking around in a sari with anklets danging from my feet bowing elegantly and saying "namaste" in a deep breathy voice to each person I meet. (Okay, um, slight exaggeration there, but only ever so slight).

Where did this obsession spring from? For some reason, I drummed up an old memory from my youth when my sister found a recipe for chai in a magazine and simply had to try it. So, she ground up a bunch of spices, heated them up with milk and tea and started boiling it. Then she put the brew through a strainer and we drank it until our tummies swelled and our bosoms heaved (heh heh, just wanted to use the antiquated word "bosom" and make you blush...*blush*).

Today, since it was a gloomy rainy old day, I naturally found myself out shopping in the comfort of a store. I went to the spice section and swiftly bought several spices.

My dear reader, there is something I simply must tell you. Make your own chai. You may have many regrets in life, but this undo all the wrongs you've done.

Here's what you need. Some black tea, cinnamon, anise, fennel, cloves, nutmeg, ginger and loads of cardamom. Then you stir fry fry that chai with some milk and honey (or agave or stevia or splenda or sugar or maple syrup..ok look pal, you can sweeten it with whatever you want!) And Viola!

You shall have that sense of beauty akin to a Monet painting in your mouth using spices instead of paint.

The Profit to be Had in Browsing

My blood relation has recently aligned herself with the book selling business. And as she happily and speedily lists any book she possibly can online, I am busily beholding books to buy to add to my spreading collection. I am even considering buying a new book shelf as the size of mine is now insufficient. Yes, I am the pack rat of the family.

Today I was out and about in downtown - I wandered into a store run by two old hippies. The store was full to the brim of doodads, knick-knacks and widgets. I believe the store was called "Collectibles and Things." I got the impression that it was a couple who just started emptying out their house and years of accumulation in it. They must have decided to start a store and oh hey let's call it "Collectibles and Things," "Sure hon, that'd be swell." And it came to fruition much to everyone's satisfaction.

So, there I was by the bookshelf in this strange store and I spotted a Spanish Language book from 1875. As a sincere student of Spanish, I just had to buy it so I can learn to say things like "Your Lordship" and "Lady so-and-so" in Spanish. So, I popped over ten bucks and compensated the dear lady. I was just delighted with my purchase - I pictured it looking so beautiful on my bookshelf that I have yet to buy. I considered turning it into a heirloom and letting my imaginary grand kids inherit it. I imagined my future intellectual friends coming over and being so impressed with my esteemed book printed in 1875. Oh, ehrm, did I mention it was printed in 1875?

But then, when I got home, I looked the book up online and was jubilant to find out that it's worth $100. That gives me a 90% profit if I can sell it. So, I had blood relation list it for sale. However, I shall be a bit sad to see it go as it is a book that I would like to keep.

The beginning of my life as a wheeler and dealer has officially begun. I do hope it's fruitful. One never knows what things are worth.

Cirque Du'Firework

The Fourth of July. A great tradition indeed. If we didn't blow up things in the air, how would we celebrate independence from the Brits? Well, we'd probably shoot something (nevermind, forget I mentioned that). Anyways, I'm going to talk about the fourth of July and you can't stop me.

During my youth, my aunts would tease me and say "Do they have a fourth of July in England" and I would stupidly say "No! It's an America holiday." And they would say "Yes they do!" And then we would occur to me minutes later what they mean't. We'd all go "Hahaha" and then join in spontaneous community singing of the Star Spangled banner. That's pretty much how the saga went (except for I'm telling a great big fib right now).

For some reason, I always found myself sleeping on a trundle bed around the time of year and in the big city at their house being served pasta salad and black bean chips and some other healthy nonsense. Sometimes we would go to a neighborhood parade and watch all manner of riff raff parade (haha) past us. I remember several summers in the hot heat enjoying the American holiday with doting aunts catering to every whim of their be-freckled niece. As a young impressionable child, I was so impressed with neighborhood parades and envious of those who walked in them. Someday I would be in a parade and everyone would look at me too and I'd throw candy at people violently.

Well, now that I've gained a few years, I've got a bit more experience under this belt of mine and I've celebrated dozens of fourths of July's. This year, to celebrate independence from British imperialism, I did what I always did, watched fireworks and made "ooh" "aaah" noises. Then later conversations of "such and such was my favorite firework" "I like it when it sort of blows up and fizzles away towards the ground" "Oh me too!" "I liked the one that looks like a cowboy hat" "That wasn't a cowboy hat, it was a butterfly!" "Was not!" "etc."

Funny, when I was a kid, this holiday was "kind of a big deal." I was speechless and aghast at the fireworks. Some of them were so close to me, I instinctively moved my head back and thought the sparks would get me.

The whole point of this holiday went over my head when I was in my youth. I just liked seeing pretty things in the sky and eating cakes decorated with blueberries and strawberries in American flags. Now I realize the point of this holiday; freedom and independence.

And yet what better way to celebrate independence by playing with fire and blowing things up in the sky?

Dear Cell, Fare Thee Well.

This summer, I had the miserable fortune of taking a three week crash course in biology. The class was titled "Biology 101" now you might go around supposin' that it's some easy class. Well "bah" to you! You don't know anything! I'll tell you a thing or two about a thing or two!

I spent three weeks in a daze as information about genetics, electrons, mitochondria and potassium whizzed by my cerebrum at a supersonic speed. It was an experience I had not experienced since that dreaded accounting class my freshman year of college when I was determined that lil ol' me would be a bon-a-fide business major. In reality, I just wanted to wear a power suit, high heels a carry around an important looking briefcase (most likely stuffed with candy cigarettes and whoopee cushions[yes, I know, I would make a rubbish business woman, okay?!]). Well, anyways, after the accounting class, I realized that I'm not cut out for business - I'm not cut throat enough and my lip quivers when I get berated and well I'm just "too nice." That class done licked me. I barely passed it. I should have thought to myself queasily "this is the demise of my academic career" but I didn't have the academic experience to entertain such thoughts.

So, back to the whole lets-learn-biology-in-three-short-weeks-and-go-through-a-week-of-material-in-one-day story. It was a nightmare. I stayed up studying my books and notes and re-reading the chapters time and time again. And then I took the midterm and totally biffed. Then I thought to myself "Oh dear, this really is the demise of my academic career. Glad I'm done with it anyways."

I ended up taking this blasted biology class pass no pass, which is something I've not done since that vile accounting class.

What a great way to start and end a college career. Pass or No Pass. Hah!

Mean Ol' Baby

Yeah, I'm going to talk about babies today. This is something that after much consideration I just decided I'd go ahead and take the plunge. I know you're probably a bit babied out. Everyone is always yammering on about babies and now there is a documentary out called, well "Babies."

Obviously babies are sort of a hot topic these days and in my corner of the world we are experiencing a baby boom. Either you've just had a baby, or you're going to have one. And, if you haven't had a baby, you're thinking about obtaining one - possibly by theft.

So, what's the fuss about babies? They're just people like you and I. As a big grown-up adult, I'm starting to feel left out. I sort of wish people would sit around and look upon me with amazement when I do really trite things, like sneezing or yawning.

Yeah, I'm a little jealous of all the attention babies get. No one fawns over me when I do anything normal. And if I were to just lose it the way a 15 month old does, I wouldn't get away with that. People would say "Oh pull yourself together woman." I'd get no sympathy. Zilch.

It's Not Fair!

Convention Of Hot Air Balloonists

When I was a large child, one of my favorite films was "The Long Long Trailer." It's one of those old movies with Lucille Ball and Ricky Ricardo. Anyways, they travel around the country hauling a big long trailer behind them which is the source of many arguments on their journey.

Well, today I had what I would call "The Long Long Day." It really began last night when I was out contra dancing with my notorious friend. I was talking to my dance partner when she scuttled up to me all sweaty from jumping around and out of breath. She interrupted our conversation and burst out "DO *gasp* you Wanna watch *gasp* balloons tomorrow at 4:45 am?!!?" Well, with the excitement of such a strange question, the word "yes!" escaped my lips. I could have been high on endorphins. She then leaped in joy and scuttled away happily.

So, now here I am, the following day and I've been up for eighteen hours. We did indeed watch balloons this morning. We went to some balloon festival where hot air balloonists bring their balloon air craft up into the heavens and float around for awhile and land in an unknown location.

Well, that ended and we all piled into Lady's car and went over the freeway and through the city to my house where we cooked up a gourmet breakfast. We chomped our breakfast with energy. Then we all ran around cleaning up and well that was that. We were done. And it was only 8:30 am.

I just have to say that today was possibly the most productive day of 2011 and it's due to a simple question "Do you wanna watch Balloons tomorrow at 4:45 am??!!"

If anyone ever asks you that.

Just mutter "yes."

The End of the End

So, finally. It's all over. Four years later and it's all over. 'Bout time!

Yes, I have finally finished college. Now I can drop knowledge bombs on people. Boom.

In memory of the torture, I decided to take some pictures. The first depicts some of the books I was forced to learn. There are much more that have been bought back by bookstores. That pile of books probably cost me $700 - a total ripoff. I wish I could say that I have crammed all the knowledge in those books into my brain, but it probably just stayed in my short term memory long enough for me to take a test.



And now, this one depicts the piles of flash cards I studied in preparation for exams. In a few years ya might see me on that TV show about chronic hoarders - ahh future stardom. Anyways, after four years of studying, guess what? I have learned more from talking to strangers on trains, taking trips, and getting stuck on buses in the Olympic mountains than I have in some lecture hall or reading some book.

A Great Scientific Discovery

I've come to the disturbing realization that the majority of the great men and women of this fine country own pets. Sadly, I am not a part of this subcategory of our population. I do not own a pet. Nope, not even a fish. But once I had a plant (but that is another story, one which I shall bore you with the details at a later unknown date).

Although, I do not own a pet, I do have the joy of enjoying the canines and felines of others.

One thing I have learned from trekking through this society is that everyone has a pet story. I mean everyone: the dental hygienist, the professor, the guy running a jackhammer making all that racket and the typical communist activist. Even I have pet stories.

So, here goes. The other day, I found myself enjoying the company of my parents canine. He is probably the animal out of all the animals I've met that brings me the most joy. I enjoy most things about him. Once upon a time, he trotted by the baby sleeping in the carrier and licked his bald head in affection. Once he walked by me as I was sleeping and licked me on the mouth and awoke me. I didn't appreciate it, but I did appreciate the though. He had bad breath which was most despairing. However, I think people would appreciate dog licks more if only their breath smelled pleasant. So, please continue reading as I have quite surprisingly found a remedy for this common ailment typical of the canine population.

Like many great scientific discoveries this cure came to me by chance.

Once day, I took the canine out for a stroll. We got back. I headed for a chair to read a book and he headed for his king size dog bed. After awhile, he started panting quite heavily and my mother said "Boy, he sure is panting. Did you go far?" We did not traverse far, I am afraid it was just a quick stroll. Well then the canine wrinkled his nose and gave a good sneeze. I said "bless you!" He looked at me. Then, he did it again. It was the darndest thing. At this point, I decided I would go up to him and give him a niiice pet.

As I was stroking him, I noticed a tablet he was chewing on. I inspected it meticulously and figured out it was a cinnamon tablet/vitamin/pill. Aha! The culprit! This explains the strange behavior. The panting. The nose wrinkling. The sneezing.

But then he tried to lick my face again and it was not half-bad this time around. He had good breath. Nice Cinnamon-y breath! I didn't mind at all. Lick away! I felt I was being malled by a giant cinnamon stick and I felt I was in the great cinnamon plantations of India.

Well, my great discovery is the cure for "dog breath"

Cinnamon tablets. Common side effects include uncontrollable panting, explosive sneezing and a generally happy outlook on life. Talk to your local vitamin dealer if your dog is experiencing symptoms of bad breath.

Would you Rather a House Or-A-Villa?

I recently had the great once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to go to the great thriving modern town of Oroville Washington (which oddly enough, means "gold-ville" in Spanish, I'm telling you this to impress you, kay?). So, as you can imagine I was leaping with excitement at this once in a lifetime chance.

I shall warn you now, this blog post shall be nothing but a cheap plug for Oroville. The town across the border from the "California of Canada" located in beautiful northern Washington.

My friend whom I shall refer to as "the aemoba" and I packed the car and went over the river and around the mountains and up some hills to this hot tourist destination.

Alright you cosmopolitan highbrow, you're probably sitting there thinking "Pah! Oroville Schmoroville!" But, there is something I must really tell you. Although the way I am describing it is something akin to an exaggeration (and a great one at that) it was not a half-bad place to be on a Tuesday afternoon. The town offered a nice grocers, and even a small river. And that is what I wanted to tell you.

Now you're probably thinking, well big deal, so ya wen to Oroville. Look here hotpants, I did fail to mention that I also did something quite prestigious - International Traveling - which actually required the use of my passport. Why yes I did, take that and put it in your tea pot and brew it, bozo! I found myself in Canada, the country that produced a wonderful individual called Tim Horton. We spent several afternoon's at Time Horton's enjoying coffee, pastries and other epicurean delights.

One afternoon we even had the wonderful fortune of hiking what was sort of like a not-so-grand Canyon but a canyon nonetheless which was treat since it's winter here and the amoeba and I don't venture outside as much as we ought to.

After two days of fun, fashion and frivoloty (Oroville style), the amoeba and I packed up the car and headed back to civilization.

Yes, it was a fun jaunt to the rugged rural parts of this country and after eight hours in the automobile, it was bittersweet to sleep in my own bed again. Sigh, I shall return to dear Oroville one day. Until then, my dear town, Fare Thee Well!

(Hey, isn't my title witty? Well, I think so).

An Unexpected Spark of Kindness

On occasion a small piece of luck befalls my otherwise rather mundane life. Why just the other day, I was sitting on the sofa absolutely engrossed in a book that I could not put down when Suddenly I realized I needed to go outside and pay for my parking. Now, parking may seem a trite topic, but in fact, it’s quite the opposite. Parking is a huge issue - no matter what city you go to. It is a universal issue dear reader. And you can take my word on that one.

So there I was sitting on the couch. I put down my book to go outside to pay for my parking until I had to leave (which was 3:30pm). I walked to the machine to buy a parking stub and get this...There was a pre-paid ticket stuck to the machine for up until 4:00pm! So lil old me didn’t have to pay for parking. Some nice person came along and paid for me. Perhaps they didn’t mean to buy two tickets or maybe they thought they would just put it there and make somebody's day. Well, I was stoked as I smiled to myself and took a breath in and danced a small jig at my luck. So, to whomever you are I humbly say “Thank you!” You made my day and I’ll be sure to pay it forward by paying the tab on the car behind me next time I go to McDonald's.

I'll Show You How to Take a Hike in Hawaii!

Oh look! An old post I meant to post awhile ago. It's amazing what one puts in their time capsule.


Like any good woman, I love to brag and gloat about all the great deals I get on things I buy. Not that I buy much. I think that’s how women relate to each other. Just listen (yes, I’m encouraging you to eavesdrop, it’s impolite but highly entertaining) in on a conversation between two women. It generally goes something like this:

“Oh Patty! Cute dress!”
“Oh, this old thing? I got it at Macy’s off the clearance rack for $10!!!”
“Only $10? Wow. You’re so amazing, you usurp any other being I’ve ever met”
“Oh yeah?!”
“Yeah!”
“But, um, did I mention I got these $70 puma shoes at Ross for $15?”
“Wow, I love the blue and red design. But...I got my pumas for $10 at a garage sale.”

Anyways, that's pretty much a typical excerpt from a conversation between two women. You can imagine how the saga continues.

Notice the subtle competition about who got the best deal. Also, both typical women are extremely impressed with the other’s ability to bargain hunt and get things for cheap. But also, there is a deep rooted envy for whomever got the best deal and they will try to oneup each other until they run out of time (and have to get to an appointment with a guy from craigslist who is selling them a crockpot).

Okay, allright, okay, here I go. This blog post is a “How to” but really, it’s just me boasting about what a great deal I got on my latest piece of enjoyment.

“How to go to Hawaii for $675”
Here is an itemized list of this trip. We had four full days of fun, fashion aaaannnd frivolity (lots of that) and two days of travel.

Flight: $285 (round trip including taxes). Sign up for free e-mails from kayak, travelzoo, and other websites. I got an e-mail telling me about some great webfare which caused a reaction like this: “uh! uh! uh! Should I do it??! er, yes! Ack, I just booked a flight to Maui!”

Rental Car: $82. Head on down to the local budget junker car rental agency. Your car will fit in and you will look like a local surfer dude, not a tourist in a Land Rover. None of this fancy red corvette business; what you need is a jalopy. We split our car rental free, so it was originally $164. (Travel with a buddy too - that cuts down on the cost).

Hostel: $120. None of this fancy resort business. No, go to the hostel with 80’s decor and a shared bathroom. For $30 a night, you get the basics and who gives a hoot? You just catch some zzz’s there.

Food & Park Entry Fees: $150. We bought a chicken at Costco, and we stopped at the local grocer’s. We ate at road side stands (the going rate for a kebab is still $10, eek!). No fancy dinners. Not sure the total on Park Entry fees, so I’m throwing it in here. And, we could have skimped even more on food, by not getting a smoothie or ice cream, but we wanted to have a bit of enjoyment in our taste-buds from time to time.

Gas: $33. Okay, there’s no getting around this one. Maui pretty much requires and car and hitch-hiking is illegal, so put away your thumbs (you know who you are). Gas is $3.75 per gallon and if you want to see anything, you’re going to have to drive and driving requires petrol.

Entertainment: $0. Free. Hawaii is so gorgeous and beautiful, you won’t want to spend money to see some opera or play. The only TV channel worth watching here is the great outdoors.

Souvenirs: $5. Sorry, I had to buy myself a scarf. I always buy scarves everywhere I go as my souvenir. Maui was no exception, so I bought a cheap one and not the $45 one.

Guidebook: $0. Borrow a friend’s (thanks cousin! Thanks aunt & uncle) or go to the library (thanks library!).

Equipment Rental: $0. Borrow a friend’s snorkel gear (thanks Cousin!) and ditch renting a surfboard or boogie board. Your body was made to body surf.. And you probably can’t board-surf anyways, you city person who grew up in some non-surfing part of the world!

Total: $675.

And now you know how you can take an all-inclusive Hawaiian vacation to expensive Maui for just $675. But, I warn you, there will be NO frills. And really, you don’t need the frills. It will only make for a less authentic holiday. Take it from a girl who knows. (hmm, should I put an emotican wink here?...okay fine ;-)

...aaand the conversation continues between ladies competing for the best deal.

“erm erm, did I mention that I got a Hawaiian vacation for just $675?”
“Oh Betty, how did you do that??”
“hhhwell, you see...” (pretentious use of the sound "hhh" before the word "well")

Okay, I’m turning off the smugness Right Now! But really, don’t deprive yourself of something great. Sure, I didn’t eat fancy food or stay in a nice place, but I thoroughly enjoyed this holiday and it was one of the cheapest holidays I’ve ever embarked upon.

Lesson to Be Learned: Take a Vacation; You Can Afford It! And if you can’t, make yourself afford it, you yutz.

The Nostalgic Coke

I don't know what got into me today. Something quite strange. There I was at the esteemed university I attend (okay, big exaggeration there FYI) and I was eating my unhealthy doner kabab. For all of you non-Germans/non-Turkish folks out there, it's basically a pita bread with slowly roasted lamb, veggies and interesting sauce that you buy from a street vendor. It was quite delicious and salty (pregnant pause here..)..... it was at that moment....that I had a craving....that I never have. Pop! Soda! Soda Pop! Carbonated Beverage!

Let us rewind ten years ago to New Years Eve. I had short Meg Ryan hair and black toe nails. I made a resolution/bet with a friend that night not to drink soda for a year. That was a big deal because, ya know, I was a teenager and my diet at the time consisted of eating a pizza pocket for lunch accompanied by a Ruby Red Squirt. Ah those were the days. But back to the resolution, neither of us had soda for a whole year. Ever since then, I don't really go around drinking soda. I mean, I'll drink it if it's mixed into some sort of punch at some sort of event or some sort of thing. So for me to crave a soda is a historical moment.

So, I sat there craving Coke wondering what I should do. I then did the prudent thing: I asked my seventh-day adventist vegetarian friend what she thought I should do. She said, "So go buy yourself a soda." So, I did! I went merrily down to the mini mart and bought Mexican coke in a glass bottle. And wow, what a rush. When I put my $1.50 on the counter, I felt a rush of adrenaline and a moment of rebellion for some unknown reason.

I really REALLY enjoyed my Coke. After my salty doner kebab, it was just the bee's knees.

Moral of this lame story - the highlight of my day today was that Coke, what was the highlight of your day?