This watermelon is bigger than Jesus.
My own personal watermelon… everybody sing along! (If you don’t know the tune… the picture should clue you in.) (Finally, a random religious tract is of any use to me. I’m walking up the stairs singing “My Own Personal Jesus,” and– BAM!– Jesus is on my kitchen table.)
So I ended my official Lucky Day with one of my favorite fruits, which I almost never eat because melons are heavy! I live up several flights of stairs!
But luckily there are smaller watermelons now. Personal pan watermelons. Modern technology! Modern science! Cancer isn’t cured yet, but… tiny watermelons exist. Cool. I guess that’s the silver lining.
All day I was hell-bent on getting frozen yogurt tonight, but in the late afternoon I thought I smelled watermelon, and suddenly I was on a mission. I ran my idea by a friend, via the chats…
Me: now i want to go to trader joe’s and get one of their little watermelons. watermelon for one.
Friend: I hope you find that watermelon
Me: thanks. the watermelon of my dreams.
Melons can be romantical metaphors. (And also: boob metaphors.)
And my melon turned out to be VERY romantic:
It's heart-shaped. TRUE LOVE.
I also ate a bunch of cherries, because… life is like a bowl of cherries. (Or a chair of bowlies, if you’re Mary Engelbreit.) A Lucky Day isn’t complete without an optimistic phrase!
Cherry berry berry.
The cherry caption was a reference to a JEWISH song (Bim Bam), ’cause I gotta balance out the Jesus. (I think it’s really shiri biri biri, but in summer camp we said “cherry berry berry.”) (I cannot find a youtube video where they actually sing that line, because it’s one of those cool-kid add-ins, but I will gladly sing it for you in person.)
On a totally different note, I ate this motherlode of goodness while watching “Bethenny Getting Married.” Love her. Love Jason. Love the scene where Jason collects all the samples for her at Cosco. THAT’S true love. Consideration. And raviolis on a toothpick.
It took me forever to find a video of my favorite tune… so here you have it, some precocious kid (gender unclear to me… sorry, kid) in a big yarmulke. But seriously, this kid is awesome. Way to sing my favorite tune.
I wonder why I’m so morbid, and then I realize I was reading “Love You Forever” and learning about Hannah Szenes (and Anne Frank, etc etc etc) in temple school when I was… I mean, we’re talking elementary school. That’s some heavy stuff to process.
It’s still my Lucky Day, though. I’m grateful for everything that I have, and for the people who paved the way for me to sit on my ass and watch Bethenny get married and eat tiny watermelons and sift through Youtube clips and say whatever I want, right here.
Also– the more I think about it, the more I suspect that the Ryan Seacrest I talked to this morning was a recording. Or like a previously recorded segment where he asked questions and they left pauses for me to answer. But whatever. My voice mingled with his, and was sent out upon soundwaves across the greater Los Angeles basin. Live Ryan or fake Ryan– I won.
xoxo…
