1. Hot dogs. Today was our annual work barbecue. I believe I have stated before that there is nothing more pathetic than classical musicians and the promise of free food. The Starving Hobo Phenomena was in full effect this morning. Normal orchestral production was way down because all we could think about were the hot dogs we were about to eat. I foolishly ate two hot dogs and now I feel like I'm about to barf. To make matters worse, I have to judge a bunch of high school classical musicians today (I'm sure that will really help minimize the "about to barf" sensation).
2. Hockey players. This morning when I wasn't thinking about hot dogs, I was thinking about Ryan Miller and how I hope that he isn't too bummed that his little brother is about to win the Stanley Cup about thirty seconds after joining the NHL. Poor fella. (Ryan, if you want to come over to my house and crochet with me, you totally can. We can pretend to watch the Stanley Cup finals, eat popcorn, and comb each other's hair- it'll be super fun!)
3. Butter. This morning when I wasn't thinking about hot dogs or hockey players, I was thinking about butter. I have always been confused about the expression "a pat/pad of butter". I don't understand if it's a pad or a pat of butter. I feel like it should be a pad of butter because, well, it is a little pad, but my instincts tell me the correct term is pat. Please email me if you know the answer to this question.