Preserves
Why Knott's Berry Farm chose to put their Strawberry Preserves packing plant in Placentia, CA, I don't know, but I do know that spotting the word PLACENTIA on the little packet label right next to SUGAR, WATER, STRAWBERRIES, PECTIN at eight in the morning is enough to put a guy off his breakfast.
I'm not re-assimilating the strength of my first-born into my body or anything — just needed something to jazz up some otherwise boring wheat toast.
Granted, it wasn't too boring, since the waitress seems to have given me regular coffee rather than decaf. I've been a shaky foggy mess all morning. For my final (somehow I recall having used that word before, right?) interview this morning, I'm sure it gave me a little extra excitement and enthusiasm than I normally would have had (should those be in quotes?), but at the cost of a lot of extra anxiety for the hour preceding it. At least it seems to have gone really well, and all that's left is to find out when my start date is, I hope.
Blue went to the doctor today for his surgery. I made them explain all the pre-anaesthesia screening details to me, and made them promise eight was from Sunday that if there looks like there'll be any risk at all to call me first. I kind of got that look like, "Yes, everyone else does this, too, but we do the surgery every day and there's nothing to worry about," but it made me feel better anyway.
At any rate, I continue to ponder whether one letter I is enough to differentiate an otherwise pleasant little California town from a messy reproductive byproduct, especially when rendered in a tiny all-caps sans-serif font. Maybe they'd be up to a referendum for a name change, or at least letting Knott's change their labelling to reflect some other nearby Orange County town without getting their feelings hurt too much. . . .
I'm not re-assimilating the strength of my first-born into my body or anything — just needed something to jazz up some otherwise boring wheat toast.
Granted, it wasn't too boring, since the waitress seems to have given me regular coffee rather than decaf. I've been a shaky foggy mess all morning. For my final (somehow I recall having used that word before, right?) interview this morning, I'm sure it gave me a little extra excitement and enthusiasm than I normally would have had (should those be in quotes?), but at the cost of a lot of extra anxiety for the hour preceding it. At least it seems to have gone really well, and all that's left is to find out when my start date is, I hope.
Blue went to the doctor today for his surgery. I made them explain all the pre-anaesthesia screening details to me, and made them promise eight was from Sunday that if there looks like there'll be any risk at all to call me first. I kind of got that look like, "Yes, everyone else does this, too, but we do the surgery every day and there's nothing to worry about," but it made me feel better anyway.
At any rate, I continue to ponder whether one letter I is enough to differentiate an otherwise pleasant little California town from a messy reproductive byproduct, especially when rendered in a tiny all-caps sans-serif font. Maybe they'd be up to a referendum for a name change, or at least letting Knott's change their labelling to reflect some other nearby Orange County town without getting their feelings hurt too much. . . .