The Number of the Feast.

Well. This was bound to happen sooner or later, I suppose.

Here in Phoenix metro this week, someone found “666” swirled with frosting onto her child’s dinosaur birthday cake. Not just any birthday cake, either. The demonic cake was a COSTCO cake. See? I was right… Costco is evil. My Costco-induced panic attacks are NOT due to Costco being a chaotic warehouse of a special kind of too much of a good thing is a bad thing hell in which you’re supposed to be able to find what you’re looking for, frothing over with the ricocheting energy of hundreds of human-shaped mice let loose in a gigantic maze with rows and rows of towering boxes and crates and a million little pieces of cheese laying around everywhere, throwing the mice into confusion as they can’t decide which one to grab first so the pattern within the movement of the masses is schizophrenic as some of the mice wander aimlessly in a retail overload induced state of zombification while others dart hither and thither with varying degrees of harrowing spontaneity as they’re driven by impulse triggered by the things their eyeballs hone in on and ultimately their shopping carts collide like bumper cars and things get knocked over, and since it’s a warehouse, all the sounds in the entire place are amplified and bounce off of each other. Oh, no… the cause of my panic attacks in Costco is clearly written on this ominous cake expelled from the bowels of their bakery last weekend.

 

This is the Costco dino cake design selected by the child's grandmother.

This is the Costco dino cake design selected by the child’s grandmother.

 

The devil is in the details.

The devil is in the details.

 

Might I add that the Costco in question is the Superstition Springs one, which is near the Superstition Mountains, and we all know that the Superstitions are haunted. I mean, of course the demonic cake came from that location. Maybe an evil spirit flew down from the Superstitions to embed itself into this cake. And maybe if you play the music in that Costco backwards, you’d hear demonic whisperings commanding you to buy everything in sight.

Needless to say, the child’s mother was aghast at the 666 “hidden message” (what a clever visual pun of Satan’s, hiding the sign of the beast in a cartoonish beast’s cake-frosting legs) and took action just as quickly as the person who discovered the Virgin Mary emblazoned on a grilled cheese sandwich. This cake incident is actually unsurprising… if you believe in God, then you believe in the devil, and from this logic it follows that if the Virgin Mary is going to appear on a grilled cheese sandwich, then sooner or later, Satan is going to appear on a birthday cake.

Anyway, the news source carrying the article seems to be a Christian outfit out of the Midwest (judging by the listing of news items in the sidebar, and by the announcer’s accent… broadcast journalists at national stations use non-regional diction); I couldn’t find a hint of this demonic dinosaur cake item in the Arizona Republic/AZCenteral.com or the East Valley Tribune or any other Arizona publication. I’m not sure why Yahoo News decided to pluck this article from the Examiner and insert it into its news feed that day, but they did, and that is how it came to my attention.

On that note, I’m off to get ready for work. Happy Friday, All!

Costco is my Kryptonite, and other tales of things I want to have in my life, but can’t, because they’d kill me.

The other day, I was watching a video, and I had a reaction to it that prompted this brief list of popular trains I can’t board:

1). Costco.

 

Nooooo...

Nooooo…

 

Costco is amazing, but I just… no. I have a panic attack every time I go into a Costco. I mean, every time no matter what.

Your guess is as good as mine. Nothing awful has ever happened to me in a Costco. This makes no sense at all. Costco is my only consistent panic “trigger,” and I have no idea why.

It’s just a huge warehouse with people milling and mingling haphazardly, and everything is towering and disorganized, and the products are piled so high, and you don’t know who or what is coming around the corner, and you don’t know where anything is, and the layout of the place doesn’t seem to make sense, and the noises echo and bounce off the walls, and, and, and, et cetera, ad nauseum.

I could launch into some anecdotes about my panic episodes in Costco in both Arizona and California, but that would result in a complete essay, and how boring would that be? My Ridiculous Panic Attacks in Costco, by Kristi Garboushian. I’ll refrain. (You’re welcome.)

Suffice it to say that the other day (here’s the event that spawned this blog post), I had a panic attack while I was watching a vlog of some people shopping in a Costco. I seriously can’t even see the inside of a Costco on video without having this reaction.

Is there a name for this? Costcophobia?

 

2). Game of Thrones.

 

Game-of-Thrones-Season-3-1788115

 

I watched most of the first season, and I tried hard to get into it. I plunged in with great expectations because of the series’ high ratings, immense popularity and sheer aesthetic appeal, but my interest waned progressively with each episode. While I could recognize and appreciate the excellence of the writing, acting, cinematography, costumes and basically the entire production, I couldn’t sit the season through to the end.

The reason is simply that fantasy isn’t a genre I enjoy enough to make the mental effort it takes to keep track of everybody running around in that series.

I couldn’t keep up with who was related to whom, and all the interconnections between individuals and groups of characters, and all the intimate liaisons, and who died/got killed (and for what reason), and who was going where, and why, and so on. First it interested me, then it tired me, then it bored me, and that was the end.

(Like most of the rest of humanity, Callaghan enjoyed it, so he’s still watching. I’m glad for him.)

My general disinterest in fantasy (there have been exceptions, like Harry Potter, which I love) contradicts my deep fascination with the paranormal and my affection for most science fiction –especially super high-octane sci-fi with lots of action and cheesy comic book panache, like Tank Girl, Serenity, Transformers and Pacific Rim.

It’s human nature to be contradictory, I guess.

On Callaghan’s part, there’s a highly rated and extremely popular Netflix series that he can’t watch, and that’s Orange is the New Black. Actually, it’s even worse than that… Orange is the New Black is to Callaghan what Costco is to me. He just can’t deal with it at all; it agitates and angers him.

I liked it, though. Maybe one day I’ll continue watching it.

 

3). Beets.

 

328px-Beets

 

Beets are nutritional superstars, and I wish I could eat them with enjoyment. As it is, I can barely tolerate them. I love food and I want to love everything that I eat. For me, barely tolerating a food equals zero enjoyment in the whole food experience.

I’m not sure why I don’t like beets. I guess I find something suspicious (unpleasantly incongruous?) about their particular type of sweetness, and the metallic aftertaste in my mouth after I eat them nauseates me a little. I don’t know. On one occasion, I went to a restaurant and the roasted vegetables I ordered included small, whole roasted beets. They were of the yellow variety, and they were more palatable to me than the standard purplish-red ones.

Beets don’t make me sick-sick, though… I could eat them if I wanted to, but I don’t bother. When they arrive on my salad, I pass them over to Callaghan, who accepts them with alacrity. Good for him!

That wraps it up. Have a great Friday and weekend, everyone!