One thing I’ve always been aware of, though, is that I snap. You heard it here first… unless you’ve ever danced in my vicinity.  And in that case, I can only hope whatever you heard was drowned out by the music.  Every so often, for no reason whatsoever, while dancing to upbeat music… I’ll snap.

I’m not talking about a “hey-girl-drag-queen-oh-no-she-di’int-3-in-a-Z”  kind of snap  or even the timeless ‘When you’re a Jet, you’re a Jet all the way” style.  This is just your garden-variety “I dance like a tool” sort of snap. I try not to call attention to it because whenever I do it, I immediately wonder if I dance like an old white dad.

I’m not a belly dancer. I don’t flamenco. There is absolutely no reason on this earth — other than the fact that I find freestyle dancing somewhat socially awkward and an act I do only after several somethings with rum in it — that I should snap.

You may be picturing some sort of Elaine Benes snap-kick-thumbjerk dance move, but I assure you it’s nothing so grotesque.  It’s usually just a passing movement, generally when my hands are “down low” and it’s totally involuntary.

It could be worse. There was that time I may or may not have walked like an Egyptian.

But I do it when I talk and I have no idea why. Is it because I sing? It’s not like I try. Should I have been a writer? I guess I already am. Should I have been a rapper?  I don’t have big enough pants.

Ok, that last one was a stretch.

But I guess I really do rhyme when I talk and now I can’t stop hearing it.  I have to acknowledge when I rhyme now… “I was rhyming.” like anyone else gives a shit.  But I guess people do, who knew? It’s not like I notice when others rhyme, it’s not my business. I don’t have the time.

See? Right then I wasn’t even trying.  *sigh*

Oh, I don’t doubt they’re out there — those who absolutely must eat their Oreo just like they do in the commercial. But what about the artists? The rebels? What about those who just bite into it as-is?  What about those who (*gasp!*) couldn’t give a damn about the “creme” filling?  What about those who consume sans milk?!

Personally, my Oreo Process is as follows:

• Nibble off the top cookie in little bites like a mouse.
• Scrape off the “creme” filling with my bottom teeth in small bits. Never lick.
• Nibble bottom cookie at my leisure.
• Store on my thighs for Winter.

I’m not saying it should be done like this, per se. I just don’t understand why Oreo feels they have to force their belief system on the rest of us.  We’re buying and eating your cookie, Nabisco. What more do you want from us?  Our souls?

There’s an art to the PB & J, I think.  Sure, you can slap each on some bread, smoosh and you’re out the door, but one can craft a truly beautiful PB & J with the proper ingredients.  For me, peanut butter and jelly perfection consists of JIF.  Not Skippy, not Peter Pan and sure as hell not that Old-Fashioned-Oil-at-the-Top-Gotta-Stir-It-Reminds-Me-of-Olestra Laura Scudders crap.  It’s JIF and JIF only in this house.  Of course, I’m not inflexible.  I oscillate between crunchy and smooth—occasionally extra-crunchy.  More often than not, it’s smooth, though.

And jelly?  Honestly, I’m more of a jam girl.  Strawberry, preferably.  If all you have is grape, I won’t balk too much, but cram it if it’s plum or some jacked up hucklecluckle berry preserves. Or heaven forbid, marmalade.  Who decided marmalade was acceptable on a PB & J?  This isn’t a tea party. This is serious culinary stuff here.

There shall be no bananas or honey or marshmallow fluff.  No crunchy patchouli hippie pit crystal sandpaper 7000 grain bread.  It’s white bread or in a pinch, butter-top wheat, the way nature intended.

And for christ’s sake, no raisins.  That’s just perverse.

The second woman really sent me over the edge.  A well-dressed, extremely put-together woman in her late 20’s, maybe early 30’s in a Lexus, while sitting at a traffic light, just flung open her door and hocked one right on the concrete.  It wasn’t even discreet or ladylike in any fashion.  I thought maybe she’d found something floating in her coffee or something, but even then, crack the door, be discreet, or hell! Spit it back in the cup and get a fresh one when you get to work.  Don’t make me have to watch it!  It made me thankful my mom instilled manners in me at an early age.  Gah.

Speaking of coffee, remember when I talked about Food Processes?  Well, coffee is one of my “processes”.  I’m completely retentive about my coffee and I own that. I go to Einstein’s this morning for my usual cup o’ joe and they were not only out of all the creamers (2%, skim, half-n-half, etc.), but they only had a dribble of my usual coffee left in the urn and it was burned.  So I ask, “Do you have any Vanilla Hazelnut brewing?” The cashier lady, whom I’ve secretly dubbed Horse Tooth, reaches out her hoof to grab my cup and fill it from the semi-brewed pot behind the counter.  I kind of…pull back and say, “Oh, no…that’s ok. I can wait, thank you. (insert sweet smile here) I have kind of a …process.”

I stood around for a while and then Horse Tooth nays, “Excuse me! Lady with ‘the process’!!!!” Nice, huh? I go over there and she snatches my cup and runs to fill it up. I realize she was trying to be nice, but dammit, I said I’d wait!  She comes back with a totally full cup and then not two seconds later, they bring the urn out to the coffee bar so I could have filled it myself. I tried to “build my cup” properly, given the cup she’d filled for me, but it just wasn’t right. I had to dump it and start again.  She’s messed with my process.

You don’t screw with the process.

Oreos

Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups

Twinkies

Corn on the cob

Toast

PB & J sammiches

My School of Thought

Oreos – it varies for me, but you can’t just BITE into an Oreo. it’s just not right. I cringe when I watch people do it. You have to DO something to it. Like twist off the top, or dunk it, or pry it with your teeth or lick it or something. Just biting into it is a waste of Oreo and should be forbidden by law.

Reese’s PB Cups – I chip off the outside ring of chocolate with my teeth. I’m a nibbler.  Then I eat the innards.

Twinkies – Well, I eat them normally, but if you fail to scrape the Twinkie Leavins™, you should be shot on sight.

Corn on the cob – I’m an “across” girl. Never around.

Toast – I like my toast (assuming it’s two pieces), faced together, then cut cross-wise, like an X.

PB & J – Cut like the toast, but then I take each wedge and peel it apart, for some unknown reason and savor each side.  But not all sammiches…just PB&J.

Yeah, so you think I’m weird, but I know I’m not alone in my Food Procedures.