Dear Darling Ones,
I spent the winter of 1996 binge-watching “Twin Peaks.” I got to binge it because my brother-in-law got the Twin Peaks box set on VHS for Christmas 1995. I promise this is not a post about Twin Peaks or how, five years later, I’m still mad at that shitty, confusing season three. Nor is it about how a lot of people declare things great art rather than admit something is baffling or perplexing or just generally make no damn sense.
Now that we got what this isn’t going to be about out of the way, are you ready for the actual topic?
Cereal and aging and hexes. Obviously.
For a long time my favorite way of dealing with annoying, rude, hurtful, or harmful people is to hex them with minor inconveniences. I used to say I cursed them, but then I read up on the difference between jinxes, curses, and hexes. As much as I hoped turning into a Spinster Bog Witch would give me the most powerful of powers, it turns out I’m not comfortable wishing even minor inconveniences on people for entire generations. So hexing it is. I like the idea that the hex lasts until the hexee learns a lesson. Don’t cross me, motherfuckers.
As I have mentioned before some of my favorite hexes of inconvenience are:
- Never hitting a green light again
- Inability to walk past furniture without stubbing your toe
- Getting the cuff of your shirt wet and it never drying
- Always forgetting to shake the ketchup and/or mustards so you get that watery squirt of ick all over your food
- Unsatisfactory orgasms
- If you wear a long-sleeved shirt under a hoodie or sweater, one arm will always scrunch up to your elbow and you will be unable to fix it
- Shoes that refuse to stay tied
- Unable to remember the reason you picked up your phone in the first place
- They will stop making your favorite food/beverage
The last one is the worst, because it will happen to you whether you’ve been hexxed or not. It’s a natural part of aging and capitalism. I still mourn the loss of my much-beloved Diet Coke with Lime and, until lunchtime today, Multi-Grain Peanut Butter Cheerios.
A quick aside, one of my sisters interviewed for a job at General Mills earlier this year. When she told us about it my first response was, “make them bring back PB Cheerios as part of your benefits package.” At the same time another sister was typing, “tell them I want more king-sized froot by the foot.”
My family has our priorities straight. She didn’t get the job (boo), but today I found a replacement for PB Cheerios (yay!).
I don’t know how long it’s been since they stopped making PB Cheerios. Years. Maybe a decade. It feels like about a hundred years. I ate these things every day for breakfast for a very long time and then they were gone from store shelves without any warning. I didn’t have a chance to horde them or to say goodbye. If I had known my last bowl was gonna be my last bowl I would have enjoyed it more.
General Mills replaced my PB Cheerios with Chocolate Peanut Butter Cheerios I have two words for them. Eww and gross. Chocolate-flavored cereal are an abomination against god and you can take your Cocoa Pebbles and Coco Puffs and go right to hell.
I was bereft for a long time and tried other PB cereals in search of a replacement. Nutter Butters Cereal was too sweet. PB Chex were not peanut buttery enough. PB Cap’N Crunch was the closest I could get, but it was not the same.
Anyway, to make what should have been a one-sentence revelation 500 words longer, I have found a suitable replacement in the form of Hy-Vee One Step Peanut Butter Multi-Grain Tasteeos Cereal. Can you hear the angels rejoicing?
I had no idea these existed until last week. I usually avoid store-brand or generic cereal because I am convinced it tastes bad. They subbed in store brand toaster pastries for Pop Tarts once and I’m still not completely over it.
However, since I started the #BarsOfSummer project I’ve been using the cheapest/store-brandiest ingredients I can find. This way, if the bars are an utter failure I don’t have the food waste guilt on top of the waste of money guilt.
So anyway, I now have a replacement for PB Cheerios after years & years of failure and that, my Darling Ones, is an utter goddamn delight. Now I have to resist the urge to by 948 boxes to last me the rest of my life.
Stylin’ in the best way,
P.S. Last night I had a dream that I was sleeping in a coffee shop where there was a party in my honor in full swing. So basically while I was sleeping I had a dream about sleeping.