Brush with celebrity

It isn't often in my life that I find myself in the presence of celebrity. However, I have had a few claims to fame including receiving a kiss on the cheek from Christopher Atkins (Blue Lagoon), meeting and having a photo taken with Sean Astin (The Goonies, Rudy) and absent-mindedly walking into Meijer for a poster board at the same time Sarah Palin was there signing her book. (Believe me, I wasn't nearly as excited about that last one as I had been for the previous two.)

When I arrived at work this morning, I noticed a semi-truck parked on our block, which we share with the Embassy Theatre in downtown Fort Wayne. There were also huge, custom charter buses parked nearby. I thought nothing of it, other than they were part of a stage production ready to perform at the theatre tonight. When I left work this afternoon, the truck was still in its place; and the buses were just returning and parking.

Then it hit me. And, I swear, I actually sucked in my breath when I realized who that truck and those two buses belonged to. None other than Indiana's favorite son... the rebel who "fights authority" (and authority always wins)... the guy who knows Jack & Diane personally...

John. Mellencamp.

I all but sprinted across the street and up the four flights of stairs in the parking garage. Because if John Mellencamp was going to be getting off a bus a few yards away from me? I was going to be driving by to take a photo. Period.

Well, all my slingback-pump-sprinting was for nothing. This is all I got for my effort:

But I know he was on the bus!

Two for One Special

I. I Just Can't Win

So yesterday (Saturday) I found myself in an interesting and unfamiliar situation: a morning/day in which I had no committments until 3:30pm. It was nothing short of a miracle that Bobby slept until 10am -- which was nice, since Jeff and I were working at our rental condo (painting) until 3am. I went to bed, while Jeff returned to paint... pulling an all-nighter. When I got up with Bobby, we proceeded to park ourselves in the den, where we played and I enjoyed coffee and one of my all-time favorite HGTV shows, Property Ladder. Before I knew it, it was time for Bobby to take a short nap, and I busied myself with (finally) putting Halloween decs back into their handy orange/black bins and taking them up to the attic. While up there, I slid the Christmas bins to the front for easy access -- it won't be long before we're into those. Jeff returned home, bleary-eyed, a little after noon. We sat together, just relaxing on the sofa... Jeff nodding off every so often, but then again, I can't say I blame him. And then I realized I felt sort of guilty. There it was... nearly 1:45pm on a Saturday and I was still in my fleece pj's, finishing coffee.


Guilty?!? Are you kidding me?!?!


I shot a quick text to Lindy, confessing my pangs of guilt. Her response? "Don't feel guilty! Enjoy it!"


This? Is why she's such an awesome friend. Because an awesome friend will already know what your normal, crazy-ass insane daily life is like and recognize when a "gift" day falls right into your lap. Further, she will have the perspective to remind you to not beat yourself up feeling guilty because you're not running across hell's half-acre, shuttling kids to various activities. She will recognize that everyone needs to embrace and enjoy unexpected downtime. Thank you, Lindy!



II. In Which I Eat My Words

During Jeff's gall bladder removal procedure, the doctor discovered he is prone to a condition which requires his diet to be pretty much nut-/seed-free. This restriction includes popcorn. Normally, a person may not bat an eyelash at this. Unfortunately, Jeff and I have carved out something of a "relaxation routine," of popping a huge bowl of popcorn after the kids go to bed, grabbing a Cherry Coke Zero ("DCC" from its former name, Diet Cherry Coke) and watching a movie. It isn't anything elaborate -- but it's our thing. Now, realizing he cannot partake in the main course, I resigned myself to only making popcorn when he wasn't around, so as not to eat it in front of him. I wished for an alternative for him -- maybe rice cakes...? Little did I know, the snack food industry had answered my prayers years ago. We were in the store a couple of weeks ago, and Jeff picked up a bag of Mike-Sell's Oven-Baked Puffcorn Delites.



I admit... I mocked him. Openly. Right there in the middle of the snack aisle.

"Really, Honey?" I smirked. "Fake popcorn?"

He valiantly championed his purchase, saying he used to eat those puffs as a kid. And they are quite tasty, thank you very much.

I doubted. And I mocked.

"They look like packing material," I said. "Little, buttery pieces of packing material."

One evening Jeff sat beside me on the sofa, with a few puffs and a DCC. I thought I'd humor him and try one.


Wow. Those little things are good. Delicious, in fact. Addictive.


Yesterday, after having sampled myself silly on Puffcorn Delites for the better part of a week, I took a look at the nutrition label. I hadn't thus far, simply because I didn't want to know the horrible truth, that my new little tasty snack wasn't the healthiest choice on the block.


180 calories and 12g of fat per serving. And a serving? Three cups. Three cups, people. In serving terms, that's a HUGE amount... and I have made it my business/obsession over the past several months to track servings/calories on what I eat. I have never run across a serving that ventured past, say, a half-cup.


So now I will happily eat my words... as well as those lovely little Puffcorn Delites.