What happens.

This is what happens: I start out the week thinking, I'm going to post every day! On my happy happy blog! And all my nice readers will respond and we'll have a great dialogue going and then we'll all get together for s'mores!

You should know that my mind is crammed with exclamation points as well as flights of fancy that end in all of us making s'mores.

Did you all grow up making s'mores with your family? I do not recall making s'mores, ever. Which is odd because my mother has this strange, obsessive love of marshmallows. This is the kind of thing I would bug her about when I was right out of college and had just started therapy. "WHY DIDN'T WE EVER MAKE S'MORES," I would demand in another late-night post-emotional-revelation phone call. "I JUST THINK I WOULD BE HAPPIER IF WE HAD BEEN A S'MORES-MAKING KIND OF FAMILY."

Yes, so. I have all these high hopes for my blog, but then it's one of those weeks—those dreaded weeks when exactly nothing happens. Plus, could it be a more nondescript time of the year? I mean, maybe it's your birthday or it's the day you won that triathlon or the week you fell in love or found your pet possum or I don't know what. For me, anyway, this is pretty much the kind of week where all I can do is hunker down and wait. Especially when it snows--that's just insulting. We're gearing up for spring, and you're going to give us snow? Fuck you. Fuck you, weather. Yeah, you heard me. Fortunately (FOR THE WEATHER), the snow went away, and now we're left with this bitter cold—and oh, crap, I'm talking about the weather. Do you see? Do you see what I have spared you?

So then when my non-posting becomes, like, a thing , a thing in my twisted mind, my imagined readers grow restless, then hostile, and I think, I can't write just any old crap, I have to make it up to them, I have to hit it out of the ballpark, and then I picture my readers growling (you growl, in my mind) and shaking your s'mores sticks at me (are there sticks, when you make them? See, I don't even know) and demanding quality entertainment. This, of course, leads to total paralysis. Which then leads to this, my mortified re-entrance, my shuffle out onto the stage as you're all filing out, throwing your programs to the ground in disgust. Wait, don't leave! I've got a little number all worked out!

But enough about me. How's your week been? I've missed you.

Comments

[Anne]

It's my birthday.

[Mist 1]

We didn't eat s'mores. My parents knew better than to try to make me eat a marshmallow. I don't do connective tissues and sugar together.

[H]

I live near a bakery that sells homemade graham crackers, huge, homemade marshmallows and gourmet chocolate. In the summer they display it all together as inspiration for gourmet s'mores.

I haven't yet been brave enough to make them, though, for fear I'll pass out at first bite. I don't think I'm up to the challenge!

[tnish]

How did you know? This was the week I fell in love! 14 years ago. So I turn to my husband three days late and say, "This week was our anniversary of meeting." And he says, "Oh." And fireworks exploded. Hopefully we'll do better on our wedding anniversary next week, but I somehow doubt it.

[sarahd]

I love smores and I had a great week. I know, really descriptive.

[Krisco]

Fin S,

We missed you too. Obviously.

Don't worry. You can come back with any old thing anytime, and drooling sycophants that we are, we will like it! So fear not.

And we made s'mores. Those were "happy times" because we tended to make them while camping or renting cabins in the mountains with cousins.

I just talked about everything ELSE in therapy.

[Melanie]

I know, there's just nothing to talk about right now. I'm sick and it's midterms and my job SUCKS MAN BALLS and I've been a little capital-letter happy lately (what can I say, when I write, I do it in all caps, so it's hard not to type in caps, too). Anyway, S'mores need sticks for the marshmallows. You need to go camping this summer and make S'mores, though, so as not to deprive your young of that kind of childhood.

[bhkart]

mmmmm...smores!

[Mike]

You don't post for, like, EVER, and then THIS is what you bring us? No wonder your mother never gave you any s'mores. Go away bad bad Alice! Leave at once! And don't come back!

Oh, wait. Good point. I guess technically this *is* YOUR blog. Well, then I'll just leave. Ha!

But noooooo, I don't want to. I like it here. Even the weather talk is funny. I mean, remember the heat wave last Summer, and you with your it's so hot the saps boiling in the trees and they're shooting off all fiery like into the sky...and then the wife and I were all: "she's so f*cking funny...even in the f*cking heat...even just talking about the weather. she could make Al Gore sound less boring. she should write his global warming stuff...yeah because it IS important and we shouldn't fall asleep through the speeches and all and ohmygod it is so freakin' hot"or something like that anyway. I think my point is you could write the phone book and it'd be entertaining. Because it's not what you write about, it's how you write about it.

Oh, that's JUST great. Now I've become one of those "drooling sycophants" Krisco outs up above. Damn you Finslippy! Leave at once! And don't let the door hit ya in the a-Oh, wait. Good point.

[Lisa C]

So when is the book coming out? You are an AMAZING writer! I'm awed and terribly jealous. Thanks for doing this!

[Stacie (The Twinkies)]

We made s'mores, and we were still pretty fucked up.

[ozma]

You don't remember that we are just interested in absolutely everything about you? So you could either say almost anything and it would entertain. But if you don't post that makes you even more alluring. The mystery and all. You can't lose.

S'mores are those things you have to want and never get. At most, they should be eaten only once and yearned for.

[SusieJ]

I don't think I've commented here before, but I read your entry Friday, and I've been thinking about your s'mores thing all weekend. You see, we didn't grow up eating s'mores either. But I tried them once, and I really like them -- no I love them. We cook them in the Winter in front of the fireplace, we cook them after we grill out in the summer. Two types, and you must try them both to acquire your own taste. The first one requires "burning" the marshmallow so that it forms a crust on the outside, and creamy inside. The second takes longer. It involves merely browning the marshmallow slowly so that the inside becomes creamy. (Sticks help you get it into the coals.) Whatever method, have you graham cracker and chocolate ready so that the warm marshmallow can be immediately placed on the chocolate and do its melting work. Time to try them.

[Lola is Beauty]

Love you. Should comment more. Too lazy to form sentences. Pissed off at New York area for horrid weather only time I've been there in last ten years. Need smores, we don't have them here but sure I didn't get enough childhood doughnuts.

[Thomas]

I never had S'mores but when I was seven I convinced my mother to buy me that s'mores breakfast cereal and found out after one bowlful on a Sunday morning that the freeze dried marshmallows that go in kids' cereal gives me the craps. This was later confirmed when I bullied my grandmother into buying me Lucky Charms to much the same effect.

At least my mother didn't feel guilty about letting me play hooky from church that week.

[Vikki]

Have you tried s'mores with Peeps? Oh, Peep s'mores are even more special than regular s'mores and may even erase an entire childhood free of s'mores. I had no s'mores as a child and, yet, I feel fulfilled now that I have roasted peeps.

I've written s'mores too many times now and feel like some sort of fetishist. I'm stopping now.

[Bethiclaus]

My family, too, would have been AWESOME with s'mores.

S'mores. Mmmmm...

[karen]

We never fucking made s'mores either. I grew up with a s'mores dysfunction. I made them once in the microwave (that was as big as the kitchen! this was 1979!), but it wasn't the same.

Vikki, s'mores with Peeps sounds vaguely cannibalistic. I cannot even visualize the poor melted electric-blue Peeps. So tragic, those melted Peeps.

Dammit Alice, now I cannot rest until I have consumed s'mores.

[Ginger]

I make my smores in the microwave (much neater than sticks) with a square of dark chocolate on chocolate graham crackers. And, of course, a marshmallow. Quite decadent if I do say so myself.

[Jenn]

I miss you too! And your heart is a s'more! I figured it out! All of your internal organs are possibly s'mores! You are that sweet.

[Jake]

We made s'mores. I never liked them. The marshmallows burned and melted and dripped onto the logs, the chocolate never softened, the graham crackers crumbled around the hard chocolate ... it was all so much work. And for WHAT? Burned tongues!

My family always thought s'mores were some kind of treat. I always saw them as messy and painful.

[jen]

What the heck is/are s'mores? Is it a USA thing that us Aussies know nothing about?

[CamiKaos]

there are sticks for the marshmellow part... I would think the chocolate would run off and the cracker would crumble making them a lot less fun if you tried to run a stick through the whole thing...

On the stick shaking... I would never shake a stick at you, at least not one baring a marshmellow, projectile marshmellows are harder to make smores with :)

[Kevin]

As long as the mini-pandas don't start growling you're safe.

[catggtyy]

I am a new guy! I like here!