The Vice President of Wiener Affairs

There I sat, like an idiot, eating my hot dogs, thinking I was appropriately celebrating National Hot Dog Day last Saturday. Today, much to my chagrin, I learned that I’d been misinformed and my celebration was grossly premature.

My downfall into hot dog disgrace began when I went to work today. A co-worker announced to me, “Tomorrow is National Hot Dog Day!” (I have a bit of a reputation for my knowledge and celebration of obscure holidays, so people often call these off-beat occasions to my attention.)

“Nuh-uh!” I responded. “It was last Saturday.”

We argued in this manner for a while until I decided to consult the fount of all wisdom that is the Internet. I found reputable sources citing both dates as the official day for celebrating the Holiest of all Hot Dog-Related Holidays and could not seem to find resolution for my wiener crisis. 

I had no other choice. I took the matter all the way up to the nation’s capital and telephoned the National Hot Dog and Sausage Council in Washington, DC. I decided to call the Vice President of Wiener Affairs. (I figured surely the Council President -“The Queen of Wien,” as she is titled- would be too busy to take my call, with this being the busy hot dog season and all. It’s also National Hot Dog month, you know.) I dialed his desk phone; I didn’t think the matter was urgent enough to call his cell. He answered surprisingly quickly. I introduced myself and explained to him that I, a concerned constituent, was confused about the official date of National Hot Dog Day and requested clarification. He patiently explained that the date changes each year and is dependent on when they (the esteemed members of the Hot Dog and Sausage Council) hold their Hot Dog Day in the capital, which is usually the 3^rd or 4^th Wednesday in July. This year, it will be on July 23^rd.

So, there you have it. It’s tomorrow. And now, I find myself ill-prepared for the upcoming holiday and feeling ashamed of my untimely prior celebration, although I will be definitely be celebrating again tomorrow on the real, true National Hot Dog Day. 

Know Thyselfie

“Selfie.”  Scarcely a day goes by where I don’t hear the word. When I get on social media sites, I am inundated by selfie culture - selfie pictures, people using the word selfie, selfie hashtags… The world has become selfie obsessed! I hear the word again and again on TV, in songs, even in everyday conversation. It’s become a household term and, I dare say, a nation-wide sensation, this concept of the selfie.

But why?

Now, I have no real problem with people taking pictures of themselves. With the cultural expectation of having pictures of your face on the Internet combined with the digital means to take as many pictures as you want with the capability of instant review and no worry of cost or hassle to get the pictures developed, I get it. But why are we (the collective societal “we”) so enamored with the concept? Is it the cute little name we’ve given it: “selfie”? Or perhaps calling attention to it masks the shame involved for selfie posters, those who might feel the sting of vanity involved with posting photographs they obviously took of themselves, but it’s not enough to keep them from showing those photos to their friends and family, so they sort of hide the shame out in the open by pretending they are just indulging a silly new fad – the selfie craze. Just some theories…

Surely I can’t be the only one who is dumbfounded by the cultural obsession, the mass selfie appeal. Right?

Oh, well. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. I call this artistic self-portrait "Bathroom Selfie."

Excuse Me, Do You Work Here?

Everywhere I go, I seem to get asked the question, “Excuse me, do you work here?” This happens to me all the time. I mean, All. The. Time. And I never do. Work there, that is.

Today, I went to the craft store in my bed clothes – sweat pants, an old t-shirt, flip flops, no make-up. This was one of those quick outings for emergency art supplies on which I was hoping not to run into anyone I know. As I was trying to make a speedy exit from the store, I was stopped by an older gentleman. “Excuse me, ma’am, do you work here?” The employees at this particular craft store wear blue vests. I was not wearing a blue vest, or even the color blue at all. I told him that I did not work there. He pointed to the employee working at the cash register, indicating that he could identify store personnel, and said, “Well I guess there’s just one employee here, and she’s busy at the cash register. I’m looking for the craft paper, and I know it’s over that way somewhere.” He gestured to one side of the store. I apologized that I could not help him, wished him luck in his search, and suggested that he head in the direction which he was pointing.

This kind of incident happens to me on a very regular basis, especially in grocery and retail stores. I don’t think it has anything to do with my appearance, because it happens whether I am dressed professionally or casually, in my PJs, holding my purse, pushing a buggy full of groceries, or checking items off of my shopping list. It often happens in places where the employees wear distinctive uniforms, and I am dressed quite differently. It used to baffle me, but now I’m rather used to it. People regularly stop me and ask me if I am an employee, or they just assume that I am and ask me to help them. I often get asked questions such as, “Where could I find the toilet paper?” or “Where do y’all keep the dish soap?” Luckily for these misguided shoppers, I am quite familiar with the layout of my local grocery stores, and I am more than happy to help a lost patron find their way. Most times, I don’t correct them and tell them that I am not an employee, just a private citizen also shopping for toilet paper; I just go with it, show them to the TP, and politely thank them for their business. I do, however, draw the line at carrying their bags to the car.

The only theory I can come up with as to why this happens to me so often is the way I carry myself. I guess you could say that when I am shopping, I walk with a sense of purpose. I usually know where I’m going and head to my destination without hesitation. I suppose that could give me a sort of “I am working, not shopping” vibe. I wonder if this kind of thing happens to other people as much as it happens to me. When you shop, do you frequently get mistaken for a sales associate? Or is it just me?

Take a Peep

It’s Easter time, and that means it’s Peep season! I love Peeps so much!  I definitely prefer the chicks to the bunnies. In my opinion, they are so much more adorable than the bunnies, and they have a better ratio of marshmallow to sugary coating because they are thicker in the middle. I also think they’re funner to eat because of their little tails. I like to eat the tail first, right around the fold, leaving an odd sort of serpentine chicken head. That is, if I’m eating the Peep raw. My absolute favorite way to eat a marshmallow Peep is to toast it. I like to put it on a spit and slow roast it over an open stove eye until its little eyes melt off, it becomes slightly plump, and its sugary coating begins to caramelize. Delicious! But, if I have to eat my Peeps raw, I prefer them slightly stale. I am not the only one who feels this way. There are entire Internet forums dedicated to this topic. And, I apparently have too much time on my hands.

This is what a Peep looks like when toasted to perfection. 

Over the last couple of years, I’ve been noticing new and bizarre flavors of my favorite Easter delicacy. Although my interest has been piqued, I hadn’t dared purchase any of these deviant new flavors just for myself. However, recently, I bought three of the wacky new flavors for the kids at work, and, of course, I sampled the leftovers. The following is my review of the flavors Sour Watermelon, Sweet Lemonade, and Party Cake (both raw and toasted).

Left to right: Party Cake, Sweet Lemonade, Classic Pink, Sour Watermelon - sitting on the stovetop, awaiting their fate. 

Sour Watermelon:

A pink marshmallow with bright green sugary coating. Based on the name, I was expecting something quite sour, but I found this Peep to be pretty mild. To me, it was reminiscent of Watermelon Bubble Yum. It was okay raw, but I don’t recommend toasting this one. It was like hot, melty watermelon gum.

Sweet Lemonade:

A white Peep with yellow flecks on the coating. This peep had a nice, subtle lemon flavor, which, as far as I could tell, was only in the coating. The inside just tasted like a regular marshmallow. Overall, it was pleasant when enjoyed raw, but when toasted, it was transformed into a lovely lemon meringue dessert, which I very much enjoyed. 

Party Cake:
Teal green exterior with multi-colored flecks; cream-colored on the inside. This peep tasted just like birthday cake. There’s not much else to say about it. Toasted, it was nothing special, just tasted like toasted marshmallow and birthday cake. 

I’d have to say that the classic toasted Peep is still my favorite. I’ve seen other varieties, like Blue Raspberry and Bubble Gum, but I doubt I will end up trying them.