B-A-NA-NA-S

I think if I were an animal, I would pick gorilla. As a gorilla, you are king/queen of the jungle. One tap of the chest with your fist sends even the fiercest predator running. Who could resist the temptation to glide along on your knuckles?
Jenny of the Dallas Zoo is the oldest gorilla in captivity. She turned 55 this week and celebrated with a 4-layer frozen fruit cake and banana leaf treats. Obviously, life in captivity would not be terrible either. I would demand a gorgeous habitat and little else. There would be no need for entertainment, because the best way to occupy my time would be to play hide and seek with the kids behind the glass...or picking bugs off my neighbor.
Lions, tigers, and bears may get all the attention, but the real beauties of the wilderness are the gorilla.

The Next Jackie

So many little girls stand up in elementary school and say they want to be the first woman president. The idea of making the executive decisions for a country like America is thrilling to me, or maybe it is just the power that comes with it. However, I must say this is not the choice I would make. When I stood up with my face-engrossing sunglasses and hairspray-curled dark bob hairdo, my claim was to a different White House position. First lady would be the best job there.
This is not a decision based on roles each sex typically plays, but a matter of the potential fulfillment being first lady could provide me with. Unfortunately, stress always gets the better of me, so supporting the weight of the entire nation's well being on my shoulders would probably crush me. I prefer to work in the background. However, I would still be able to exert my influence.
I think being first lady enables one to choose a cause and really make a difference outside of that cubicle called the Oval Office. The position and its fame grants you the ability to better your world from the time you enter the White House until your death if you so choose. Not to mention you can do it with style. As my goal is to leave my mark on the world in a good way this is a perfect choice for me.
Look out Laura, I'm leaving your "legacy" in the dust.

When You Wish Upon a Star...

I may have been able to resist the evils of Walmart's huge sphere of control, but in Disney's I can not. Wilfully submitting to the idea of fairy tales and theme parks for good may have been given a bad rap, but the songs and perfect hair can't help but draw me into a cloud of bliss.
Perhaps an exposure during early childhood is the reason I know every song and can proudly belt them at the top of my lungs. When I am sick there is nothing I would rather watch to comfort me. I am even willing to brave the hordes of screaming children and sweating parents in the fine city of Orlando for an experience catered to four-year-olds.
Something inside everyone causes the inevitable attraction to the billion dollar industry. This may be a subconscious impulse which is carefully beaten into submission, but sooner or later it can't help but shine through. I only hope it's not Hannah Montana.

Flip it good.

Pizza is definitely one of the worlds favorite foods. This is the only reason I can think of for having a "World Pizza Championships". A large variety of attractions are associated with the event, including street performers. The picture at the right is what attracted me to the festival of dough, sauce, cheese, and toppings. Where else could acrobatics be combined with food than Italy?
I am so envious of anyone with gymnastic ability. To be able to bend like that man while twirling a floury substance around your head is an incredible talent. Before I die, one of my goals is to brush up on my flexibility. I figured I would start small, maybe a back flip from a standing position or back-hand spring. My somersault needs work, but I have mastered the cartwheel (sort-of) and am ready for a challenge. First I need to find an instructor.... (taking applications).

I make a mean casserole.

When flipping through a magazine recently, People, my guilty pleasure, I came across a Match.com add. It was a picture of a woman smiling goofily. The subtitle said "I make a mean casserole." In general, these classifications are disjointed and random. They don't seem to advertise the person's greatest achievement or desires. They really don't say anything at all about the potential soulmate. I guess this is Match.com's whole campaign, but it confused me.
Are you supposed to find your soulmate by knowing their culinary expertise? By these "fun facts to know and tell"?
What I want to figure out is how these people know the right fact for others to know and tell. How do they know their proper classification, or what characteristic completely encompasses their life in a quick phrase? How can they put their thumb down on who they really are in an Internet questionnaire or any questionnaire? Everyday, we make and break relationships and sometimes a 15 second impression is all you get. I don't think I would want to be remembered for my casseroles, but at times one bite of cooking is the best representative of our real selves. Maybe that is the real meaning of life- to try and figure each other out- or at least life's true entertainment. If we told every person we met one sentence that represented our lifetimes, where would we go from there?

She Reigns with a firm hand

Although I resent Walmart's reign over America, Martha Stewart's return to glory does not inspire malicious feelings in me.
Yes, I was one of those angry at the domestic diva during her short stint in the big house, but I have recovered my senses and joined the ranks of faithful magazine subscribers.
Prior to my Christmas gift of a year-long subscription to the glorious periodical, I would race to the registers in HyVee. Now, however, I can wait for my next issue from the comfort of the armchair placed next to my mailbox strictly for this purpose. The agonizing six weeks of waiting between distributions is only partly relieved by the massage feature on my lazy boy, so I am forced to nurse each month's issue with care.
In opposition to my W*lm%r$ experience, entering the magazine is always joyful. The layouts, lines, pictures, stories, and recipes are so organized it fills me with warmth. In fact, I think it is about time for a 57-step, heavenly batch of cookies straight from Martha's kitchen. So please excuse me while I fish my spatula out of the cutlery drawer.

A Mocking Smile

Walmart is quite possibly the root of all evil. I don't think there is a plainer way to say how I feel about the behemoth.
I am sure I am not the only person who has been tricked by the corporation. By using a smiley face for a logo, they draw their customers in under the false assumption they are about to experience a pleasant shopping trip. The moment I stepped through the sliding glass doors for the first time, however, they could not deceive me any longer.
Awful t-shirts, overflowing shelves of cheap merchandise, screaming children, hostile employees.
Walmart is just not a happy place, and I am not happy when I am there.
I can not help feeling as if I am destroying small businesses worldwide the entire duration of my trip. Yes, worldwide, not nationwide. Not able to stop at killing mom and pop in America, Walmart has expanded to see their influence in Mexico and other foreign nations. They have developed a system for seeping into every aspect of human life. They have started a bank and visa prepaid card, monopolized the sale of electronics and entertainment, and even begun to dabble in organic food sales. What's next? A health clinic! Why anyone would trust the same company that can only sell products in midst of destruction to care for their wellbeing is beyond me.
The promise I made to myself still holds true.... I will never enter a Walmart unless forced, and I will shun that disgusting smiley face with pride.