Design Competition!

The last time this blog sponsored a contest, nobody participated. This doesn't surprise me, considering that only four people know about this blog. So here's the contest:

Design a Cereal Box

Now, this isn't just any cereal box. This is a very special cereal.

1. Think about a relationship that you have been or currently are in. What kind of cereal would that relationship be, and what would the cereal look like and taste like? You might want to talk this over with your significant (former?) other.
2. With that in mind, design the cereal box. Include the following items:
   1. The name of the cereal.
   2. A sketch of the box. What does the box look like? What's the color scheme? Include, the front, back, side, top, and bottom panels.
   3. Dimensions of the box. Is it square? Is it a cylinder? How big is it?
   4. Include all of the text on the box, the copy, the tag lines, the ingredient list, the nutritional information.

Remember, this cereal box represents a relationship, and every item of the box (and cereal) design should be a reflection of that relationship. Are you up for this project?

Send your entries to cerealbox@happydoodle.net before March 31, 2010. I'll share the entries here. I may dragoon some of you to help me judge what I know will be an avalanche of entries. The top three winning entries will be posted here, if indeed, I receive any entries. The winning entry will receive something really cool, that I would otherwise sell at a flea market this summer.

Southaven Nights

We're still in Southaven. Ron called the airlines this morning after discovering that our flight had been cancelled a second time. Our next attempted departure will be on Tuesday. That's a week we've spent here. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Today's adventure started with the tire indicator lit. So when we got to Mom's we checked the tire pressure and found a nail in the passenger-side rear tire. Alex got out her compressor (she has everything in her garage), and topped off the tire, and proceeded to top off the other rear tire. In the process, the valve head came out, so now I had two flat tires, instead of one. We proceeded to change the tire with the defective valve, and went in search of a place to change the other tire on a Sunday.

Walmart, what a marketplace delight, especially for people in need on a Sunday. I filled out an order, then we were off to a Chinese buffet for lunch. It wasn't bad. I didn't have intestinal discomfort afterwards. Ron and I went back to Walmart, but the car wasn't ready quite yet.

When it was ready, I was told that they hadn't done any work on it because the valve is a special valve only available from the dealer. I told them to go and install a regular valve. At this point, I don't care about the rental car or contract; I need a car to drive. The guys quickly repaired both tires, and we came back to the hotel.

The problem, then, is what to do for dinner. We were invited over to Larry and Sherri's to eat and watch the Super Bowl. Ron and I are actually a lot gayer than that. We called Alex and politely declined, then went for a walk, had a nap, and ended up at the Olive Garden for dinner. We had a nice glass of wine, some bread sticks, some pasta, and a nice evening of looking each other in the eye and thinking what a nice evening to be together with you.

Memphis Barbeque

Okay, after that last whiny blog entry I should be ashamed of myself. Tonight, we took Mom to the Olive Garden to meet up with Ron's sister, Alex, and have dinner. Well, 6:30 on a Friday night in Southaven, Mississippi is the time when the natives all go Italian. The place was packed, and we were shunted off to a very smoky bar. I wasn't too keen to spend 45 minutes there to be seated for dinner.

Alex suggested that Ron and I go somewhere else to eat if we didn't want to wait for dinner, and that she and Mom would eat at the bar. After a few indecisive moments, Ron and I headed for the door, jumped in the bright red minivan, and headed down Airways Boulevard in the direction of Scooter's Barbeque.

We had seen Scooter's when we first got into town on Tuesday, but I didn't think that we'd actually have a chance to eat there. It's a very down-home unpretentious carryout/restaurant. The video was playing some great rockin' blues and the smell from the kitchen was 100% barbeque, a wonderful smoky aroma that let you know you were in the right place for some great food.

I'm a fan of pulled or chopped pork sandwiches. For dinner tonight, I had a chopped pork sandwhich with slaw, barbeque beans, potato salad, lemon cake, and iced tea. It set me back $4.95. The barbeque spoke to me with its vinegary smoky-sweet goodness. The meat was moist, tender, and most of all smoky, but not assertive or bitter. It is some of the best 'que I've ever eaten.

The sides were good country cooking, too. The beans were sweet, but not too, with chunks of barbequed pork. The potato salad would have made any of my aunts proud to say it was there own. The lemon cake was just the right way to end this memorable meal. Scooter's should be on your list of places to visit when you get tired of Graceland or the Orpheum. Head for Southaven, and the corner of Airways and Goodman.

Snow Daze

Ron and I are sitting in Mom's kitchen with Ron's Mom. It's an exasperating experience. She is experiencing memory loss, and it's getting worse. Right now she is quite lucid, but it's not going to last. Ron is far more patient than I, but I'm pretty sure that it makes him a little nuts, too: the endless questions, the crying, the paranoia, and the frustration. She's often angry and sullen. Yesferday she was certain that we were going to poison her.

Of course, the situation changes minute by minute. It takes nothing to set her off. She lives in a very looking glass world. Life inside these walls is not always what it seems.

Oh, the snow. Because of the weather in DC, our flight was cancelled. We are rebooked for day after tomorrow. The next 48 hours will be extremely time dilated. I had to change the hotel and car reservation. While changing the car contract, I realized that my driver's license was missing. My license wasn't in my wallet, my jacket, the hotel room. I eventually found it in the car underneath the beverage holder. Maybe I'm the one with memory loss. I also called the snow guy to clear our steps and walk. We're getting back to DC about 10 p.m. Sunday evening, and I didn't want two and a half feet of snow outside our front door looking for a shovel. We've made our arrangements. Let it snow (brave words, here).

Groundhog Day

If that little, fierce, furry creature had popped its head out of its hole yesterday, we'd have six more weeks of winter. Today, however, the sky is overcast, and depending on when that awful rodent makes its appearance, we may just have six more weeks of winter.

I'm pretty sure that Ms. Groundhog doesn't affect the weather at all, and what happens if it doesn't see its shadow? Is the temperature suddenly going to rise, and we're going to have the warmest February on record? It would also ruin my Caribbean trip, if I were to fly to the sunny South, only to have it be all comfy up North.

No, I don't like winter, just like the next guy, but when I go on my winter vacation, it better be cold back home. And that little furry beast better show up, and it better see its shadow, too. I wonder if ground hogs taste good?