Yesterday pretty much sucked, so I was worried the suck was going to ruin my birthday today (thanks for all the well wishes from Saturday!). But so far, no suck0rz (even though the hot pink popcorn balls wouldn't stick--see below).
Everyone should get hot pink popcorn balls on their birthday. They fit.
Dazee slathered me with presents this morning and played me Kermit Ruffin's Happy Birthday song, which is our tradition. He even added some birthday love from Atom and His Package to make things even juicier. What did he get me? You so nosey! Nice stuff I've been wanting for awhile--a ring! the Juno soundtrack! magazines, and books I'm sick of checking and rechecking from the library. I'm really excited by the Saveur subscription, even though it's so meaty, I relish it. The April '08 issue discusses vintage vegetarian cookbooks and even has a spread on Ethiopian cuisine with recipes. You might also be interested in the two cookbooks he got me, I've really been hankering to add them to my library. The Laurel's Kitchen Bread Book: A Guide to Whole Grain Breadmaking (so I can expand my whole grain muffin top, if you know what I mean) and Olive Trees and Honey: A Treasury of Vegetarian Recipes from Jewish Communities. Both of these are amazing, though not completely vegan, they are worth the $$.
Then I've been warming up the ol' Ebay account, for my birthday of course. Today I unwrapped a new addition to my Japanese anthropomorphic fruit collection: a two headed apple condiment jar.
I like the crazing. Should I use this for lemon pickle and other hot Indian shit?
And then of course, I've been pigging out on hot pink popcorn balls, pretty much all day.
Hot pink balls, courtesy of my good west coast pals.
I feel bad, I'm sorta known to stretch stories sometimes, I just like to tell a GOOD story, y'know? So the deal is, I told a yarn, and I didn't make myself ANY popcorn balls.
The proof, Papa Tofu page 71.
I had a big head to say I'd make 400 balls and stick them on my body (I never even tested the plan), and I'm sorry about it. Michelle and Mama Kim were even soOOo kind to help me get a jump start on the whole production dealio. Girls, I brought them outside to photograph stuck on my arms, and they don't stick to skin--they don't stick at all. There was no stickage happening, and it turned into a big problem even before the stinging ants began to circle me. I bailed, but I love my balls!