This blog is about nothing if not the little things that are important to me (and few other people). So, since this is my own private forum, I'll use it to shout out my grief for the loss of the Big Bacon Classic at Wendy's.
       How can they get rid of the Big Bacon Classic, you ask? It's easy. There was only room for one supreme bacon cheeseburger and they opted for The Baconator. How could they do this? Where the Big Bacon Classic was, as the name implied, a classic bacon cheeseburger with lettuce, tomato, and onion on a kaiser roll, the Baconator is like the epitome of everything making Americans obese - two beef patties, multiple cheese slices, SIX slices of bacon, and not a vegetable in sight. Granted, health isn't foremost in my mind when I choose to walk into a Wendy's, but there's eating something that isn't all that good for you, and eating something that seems equivalent to poison. I find the idea that these sandwiches are interchangeable preposterous and a painful reminder that Dave Thomas isn't holding down the fort anymore. But this isn't about the Baconator, this is about the Big Bacon Classic, the burger I proclaimed as my favorite fast food burger for many years.
    My love for the Big Bacon Classic (heretofore referred to as the BBC, not to be confused with the television networks) started a long, long time ago (you know, the '80s.)  Actually, it started with the Big Classic. I think it was around 1986. I was a young kid and my dad was making a burger run to Wendy's. All the adults were getting the Big Classic. I was excited because I wanted one too. I'd been mesmerized by the commercials. I don't remember getting as excited about the sandwich as I did about the packaging. This was back in the days of styrofoam burger boxes, and in order to accommodate the large kaiser roll, the Big Classic was served in something that can only be described as a styrofoam dome. The commercials captivated me (see one here.) This was something new, something to be experienced. Finally, I had my chance. I told my dad I wanted what everyone else was having. "No," he said like I was a complete idiot for even trying. My heart was broken. Sweet Big Classic, you would never be mine.  I'm not sure if they took it off the menu or if I was too blinded by the Superbar to remember my unfulfilled burger desire, but I didn't revisit the issue until the early 90s. I believe that's when the Big Bacon Classic was introduced, and I took notice. By this time I was in my early teens and finally ready to make up for lost time. There was no styrofoam dome anymore, but it was no longer about that. Now it was the principle of the thing. It was actually at this point that I rediscovered a love for burgers that McDonald's had killed long ago with its "food". Wendy's became my favorite place. As a growing girl with an insatiable appetite, the BBC was my favorite thing to order, usually Biggie-sized. It was great not to finish a meal and still be hungry. There was actually a point in my life where it wasn't unheard of for me to eat Wendy's for lunch and dinner. I'll probably pay for those days in a few years... But, in more recent times, Wendy's has become a much more rare excursion, and even though I always expected the BBC to taste good, with the first bite I was reminded that it was always going to taste better than my mind could remember. It was the perfect fast food burger, and now it's gone.
     I've heard there's been an online insurgence to get the BBC back. I hope it's true, and I hope it proves to be successful. In an era where all the fast food restaurants are trying to position themselves as either extremely health-conscious or the place to indulge your most gluttonous tendencies, there are still some of us who just want a decent bacon cheeseburger. For here or to go.

     We got a new look! (By "we" I mean the blog. I guess we've become one now.) Go Daddy was telling me that I needed to update my theme if I wanted to take advantage of the cool new blog features. Don't misunderstand me, I'm not actually going to do anything cool with the blog, I just wanted the option. So, enjoy. I hope you like what I've done with the place.

    I should begin this with the disclaimer that I have dog-owning friends who respect that not everyone loves their dogs as much as they do, and friends whose dogs know how to act around people. This isn't aimed at them, but for the remaining 70-75% of dog owners I encounter on a fairly regular basis.
     When I was a little girl I was petrified of dogs. I was accidentally knocked over one time and that was enough for me. But, as I grew up, I went into something of a cooling off period. I became more or less indifferent to them. Now, I'm heading back into that completely anti-dog territory.
      Mike and I were mowing the lawn a few weeks ago shortly after the "Under Contract" sign went up next door. After we were done, I turned to Mike with a big grin on my face and said, "Do you realize that we're not going to have to deal with those yippy mongrels anymore?" We basked in the happy thought. Imagine, being able to actually go outside in our own yard without being barked at through the fence the whole time. Sure enough, our neighbors left and took the Yiptastic Two with them. We got new neighbors and everything was great until they got settled in and realized the only thing that would make their new home picture perfect was a dog. I don't know, maybe they always had the dog and just waited until everything was ready to bring him home. All I know is that I was living the cautionary sentence: "Be careful what you wish for." There's only one thing I hate more than a tiny ankle biter, and that's a big dog. Today I took some trash out to the side of the house and instead of the old, high-pitched barks, I was greeted with a terrifying, deep bark. It was the kind of bark that reverberates through your whole body. It certainly got my attention. I actually whipped around to make sure he wasn't there, ready to attack. Thankfully, the fence seemed to be holding him quite well. I wasted no time getting back in the house, lamenting the fact that there was now a new dog whose whole life purpose seems to be sitting in the backyard and barking at the neighbors (i.e.: us.)
     I guess I can't blame the dogs too much. Most of the blame lies with the owners. Maybe they're too blinded with love and affection to see what's going on. (Hmmm...not unlike some parents I know...but that's another blog entry.) If your dog is 10 lbs. and runs up to greet me at the door, I'm not going to care that much. If that dog completely lost its mind and started attacking me, the worst I'd be dealing with would probably be some stitches and maybe some shots depending on what made your dog go crazy. When your dog weighs more than I do and comes running up at me at full speed to say hello, I'm going to get scared. Don't be offended, don't try to make me feel silly because "she wouldn't hurt anyone" - your dog could kill me. Heck, your dog could actually love me to death. I know someone whose dog is so big it practically knocks me over just nudging me with its nose. It's very unsettling. Now, if I'm at someone's house, there's not a lot I can say. That's my friend's house and my friend's dog, and I'm just going to have to grin and bear it. It bothers me the most when I'm out in public, or when people take it upon themselves to bring their dog because "he's a member of the family." No, he's not. I doubt I'd feel the cold, wet nose of your kid on my arm while I was trying to eat (that has happened so many times, I can't even tell you...with the dogs, I mean.)
     So, here are my parting thoughts. First of all, remember that you live with the dog every day and have a comfortable relationship with him. No one else has that. Don't take for granted that other people aren't going to be as OK with him being all up in their space as you are. It may seem ridiculous to you because you know your dog and know he wouldn't hurt a fly, but it's not all about you or your dog. For some people, violent tendencies aren't the issue. Any animal that can overpower me is intimidating to me, I don't care how friendly. In fact, it's the extra-affectionate dogs that usually bother me the most. Second of all, no matter how much he may seem like a family member to you, he's still an animal. Maybe keep him away from the table while other people are eating, or remember that other people won't find his affectionate face licking as adorable as you do. Thirdly, safety isn't just a priority for you. You may buy a big hulking dog because you want to feel safe, but if he growls at barks at everyone in proximity - including the neighbors in their own yards - then that's a problem because you're taking away their feeling of safety and security. You may be too self-centered to appreciate that it's a problem, or may just write it off because you know your dog is all bark and no bite (see parting thought #1), but it's a problem. Finally, this may seem inconceivable to you, but some people don't love animals. It's not a character flaw, a quirk, or something they can be cured of with enough exposure to your precious little puppy. Please respect that next time you think about bringing your pooch to what is expected to be an all-human event.
     Thank you. That is all.

      Hi, everyone! I'm really sorry I haven't blogged lately. I've really wanted to, but I haven't had anything to write about. Well, that's not exactly true, but...OK, for example, say I go out to dinner with you tonight, then tomorrow you read on my blog something like, "Don't you hate it when someone you only kind of like invites you to dinner and you feel obligated to say yes?" You'd pretty much figure that was about you, huh? Well, I've had a lot of moments like that (but none that even closely resemble that specific one, so if I've eaten with you, don't sweat it.)
     So, with that said, I wanted to say something here so people wouldn't quit checking this page from time to time. Yes, there will be more stuff here, hopefully in the not-to-distant future. Until then, thanks for being faithful.

     I went to good ol' Kings Dominion this weekend. I'm so glad I don't have to worry about saying "Paramount's" anymore. It always felt unnatural.
     I'd been working on a tribute to KD's big stage show of 1992, "It's Magic", for a while, but I got stuck on something and let it sit. Then, when I was back there this weekend, sitting in the old theatre and letting their cast of six make me wistful for the big production numbers of yore, I was inspired to finish it. I still didn't. Today when I was on X-Entertainment reading Matt's tribute to his own summer of '92, I made up my mind once and for all to finish my tribute. So here it is, complete with personal stories, lots of pictures, and even the entire show available to stream or download.
     It was way too much to be contained on this blog, so I made a separate page for it. Enjoy!

As part of the Simpsons Movie media blitz, Burger King has launched simpsonizeme.com, a place where you can upload your pictures and Simpsonize yourself. Clearly people have been waiting years for this because I've been trying for days to get on. I think the time spent was worth it. What do you think?

     Sorry about yesterday. I got busy doing something and the next thing I knew it was 5:00. Yes, I spent eight hours doing one thing. Just like a real job! (D'oh!)
      It's probably just as well because I only had one more idea and I wasn't sure what I was going to write about after that. We've covered the presents, so today is a tribute to the other staple of childhood birthday parties: the cake. Growing up, we didn't do the traditional cake. We had something so much more awesome...

Behold the Friendly's Wattamelon Roll! Just looking at that picture I can almost taste it. We first started having these when we moved to my grandparents' house. We hadn't had any Friendly's near us, but they had a couple relatively close. I was always a big fan of ice cream cake, and my guess is that they went to get an ice cream cake, saw how expensive they were, and opted for the cheaper sherbet roll. Thankfully, it did not disappoint.
     It's an amazing feat of confectionary engineering. The "rind" is made of lime sherbet, the "fruit" of watermelon sherbet, and the seeds of chocolate chips. I'm not sure who decided to first attempt that combination, but hopefully we'll meet in heaven one day. Not only is it tasty, but it adds the perfect amount of culinary atmosphere to a summer birthday. Biting a Wattamelon Roll makes me think of sitting at my grandparents' picnic table under the string of party lights with lightning bugs flying all around. It was my compensation for having a birthday in the summer when no one was around to come to a party.
     As years went by, we still had the Wattamelon Roll for Tracy's birthday, but I had found something else to make my taste buds dance.

Oh, Dutch Fudge Roll. How I love thee. There's one drawback to the Dutch Fudge Roll - it can only serve, at most, about eight people, and that's if you slice it pretty thin. However, as I mentioned before, none of my friends partied with me anyway so...the parents, Grandma, Grandpa...yep, perfect for six. I didn't know where I was going to get a picture of this for the blog, so I started searching archive.com, Yahoo! images, and anything else I could think of. I didn't think I was going to have any luck. On a lark, I decided to try Friendlys.com. They still make these! I can't believe it! Our stupid Friendly's doesn't seem to have anything in the freezer case but half gallons, so I thought the whole chain had simplified their take home treats. Nope, apparently there are still decent restaurants out there where you can pick up your roll of choice or one of those sundae cups that I still crave from time to time. Friendly's used to be my favorite restaurant. Knowing that there may be some out there that still have that old spirit renews my faith a little.
     Well, it's Friday, and I'm not going to pretend that I might post tomorrow. So, this has been birthday week. Thinking of these things has gotten me a little more into the spirit, at least as much as you can when you're about to turn 28. Maybe this year I can party like it's 1989.

     Birthday week continues. I promised yesterday not to leave you hanging about my other birthday list item, and I know you've been waiting with baited breath to find out more.
     I used to tell my mom I wasn't going to have kids. I may have been young, but I knew enough about childbirth to know I didn't want any part of that. However, when it came to make-believe, having children involved no pain or invasive exams, so I was all about it. I loved being mother to all my dolls and was pretty attached to all of them. I asked for a baby doll every birthday and Christmas so I could look forward to the "birth" of another member of the family. Now, of course, those dates are pretty close together in terms of gestation, so when I was old enough to figure that out, I decided that I had a rare disease that made my babies develop abnormally quickly, thus reducing pregnancy time and allowing me to justify having babies in July and December of every year. I've said it before and I'll say it again - WEIRD KID.
     There was a bit of a process. Sometimes I would actually stuff clothes inside my pajamas on nights close to my birthday and fall asleep rubbing my "belly". I'd have names picked out, and when my baby arrived, I'd decide whether it was a boy or a girl and name it accordingly. Then, that night, I'd fall asleep with my newborn in my arms, feeling the joy of having a new family member. I'd usually wake up in the morning to the guilt of seeing my vinyl bundle of joy face down on the carpet where I had knocked it out of the bed. Oops.
    So, you see, July 15th isn't just my birthday, but my babies' birthdays too. Jeffery Alan will be 19, Phyllis Virginia will be 18, and there are others, of course, that I can't remember right now. I'm a terrible mother.

     As a kid, I said it would never happen to me, but that's just the way life is. I just don't get that excited about my birthday anymore. I remember when the countdown started shortly after Christmas. Now it's not unusual for me to go, "Hey, my birthday's in a week. How about that." When I think about looking forward to my birthday as a kid, the first thing I think about is presents. A kid with no allowance didn't get the opportunity for new stuff all that often, so birthdays and Christmas were known as the days when I got enough stuff to last me the next 6 months. There were two things you could count on me asking for on every gift-giving holiday, and one of them was a new Barbie (I won't leave you hanging about the second one, but I won't go into it today.) Actually, it was usually Barbie's friend. I may have gone into this during the Christmas Countdown, but I never liked Barbie as much as her friends. They were usually prettier and wore very similar clothes, but they were never allowed to be as popular. Why? Because they didn't follow the stereotype that the prettiest girls have to be fair skinned, blonde-haired, and draped in pink. That may seem hypocritical coming from a fair-skinned blonde (I can't help genetics), but it still made me mad. Besides, once you have one Barbie, why do you need several more? At least with her friends, you could diversify the neighborhood a bit. Otherwise it would feel a little bit like a toy version of the Stepford wives with Ken in the middle, goofy smile molded onto his face.
     I remember really wanting Tropical Miko one year.


It must have been 1987, because that was the year I was living with my grandparents over my birthday. To make things easier on everyone, I taped my birthday list up in the hall where everyone could see it. How's that for brazen? Anyway, I remember that a man from the church came by shortly before my birthday, and in making conversation with me found out about the list and asked to see it. He asked me what a "Tropical MY-ko" was. "It's MEE-ko," I quickly corrected him. He could have just told me that 2+2=5 and my nearly eight-year-old self couldn't have thought he was any dumber. Looking back, of course, I see it was a pretty easy mistake to make, yet for some reason, my perception of him has never been able to fully recover from that day when I lost nearly all respect for him. By the way, I didn't get a Miko that year. It was either that year or the next, however, when I got my favorite Barbie ever.


Ahhh...Jewel Secrets Whitney. Isn't she beautiful? Well, imagine her without the goofy backwards jacket. What a dumb look. Stupid 80's fashion.
     Whitney was the crown jewel of my collection. In my world, Barbie was trying desperately to get Ken's attention, but he was too smitten with the brunette beauty. Barbies were a dime a dozen, but Whitney...she was something different. Poor Barbie even had to look happy as she stood by Saturday after Saturday and watch Ken and Whitney get married yet again. Barbie never won. It was my world and I made the rules. Not even having her foot chewed off by my little sister could diminish her beauty. She was truly one of my favorite gifts. Of course, as any girl (any girl who played with Barbies anyway) can tell you, there was more to getting a new Barbie than the doll.


     Accessories were always exciting. This particular accessory came with Barbie (which my sister had), but Whitney came with the tiara you see her wearing, that jacket, and this weird, ribbed cape thing which always made me crave Ruffles potato chips. That last part isn't a joke.


I remember she also came with a storybook which didn't interest me at all. For one, I liked coming up with my own stories. Second, I hated that no matter which doll you bought, Barbie was always the heroine, or at least front and center. Barbie was annoying.
     Not only were there accessories, but there was the one thing I looked forward to almost as much as the doll...the fashion booklet!


I don't know if they even bother with these anymore. Barbie fashion isn't what it used to be and has probably rendered these things obsolete. I remember looking through them as a kid and picking out all the outfits I'd love to have. I pretty much never got any of them because they were rather impossible to ask for on a list (the outfits didn't have names anymore by the mid 80's) and I didn't have the means to get them myself. Still, I marveled at the beautiful clothes and managed to be impressed at how they could make Barbie dolls with all the same hair and features look so different from each other with poses, lighting, and hair styling. I can't believe I noticed that. What a weird kid.  Anyway, in an effort to find pictures of one of these booklets, I found one from 1984 that was only $4 (incl. shipping), and I couldn't help myself. It's a birthday treat to myself. Besides, on eBay there were pages of "rare" booklets from the 60's, but hardly any from the 80's. If they're that hard to find, that means this is less of a luxury purchase and more of an investment. Yeah, that's it. In any case, now I get to spend at least part of my 28th birthday much like I did my 8th, perusing a Barbie fashion booklet and picking out my favorite outfits. Birthdays rule.

It's my birthday week and I thought it would be fun to do something every day that's purely for my own enjoyment. The problem is, I came up with this idea 15 minutes ago, so it's a little late. Whether or not I post anything new over the next several days remains to be seen and, admittedly, this is a lame excuse for an entry. Still, the love is there.

Ever wonder what I would be like if I were a guy who smokes, drinks, and swears too much? Um...probably not. Still, that incarnation of me exists in Matt, the guy who runs my absolute favorite site, X-Entertainment. In thinking of what I would want to do here, I thought of this entry from the early days of the site, and thought I'd take an easy way out and just link to his instead of writing my own. Warning: there is some foul language on there (he swore even more seven years ago than he does now), but if you can get past that, I hope you can appreciate his 8th birthday party as much as I do. If you find what I write entertaining, then you just might.