Rhubarb.

On a scale of one to ten, with one being the worst thing since David Bowie rocking spandex in The Labyrinth and ten being the greatest thing since the Sue Simmons' "What the eff are you doing?" video, where would you put rhubarb? Prior to breakfast this morning, I would have put it at around 9. But post breakfast, rhubarb has plunged into its own little economic crisis, as far as Mary Ann is concerned. I now give rhubarb a 2.

Come on rhubarb. Stop messing with me and follow the path of the orange - consistently deliver tastiness.

Oh General Electric, why are you stamping all over my heart?

For those of you that survived the summer when I became obsessed with Baskin Robbins’ ice cream cakes, I'm warning you - another siege is on. However, this time my focus isn't on delicious dairy/baked goods. This time, I'm taking on a 120 year old company. That's right readers - I'm talking about General Electric (side note: I'm not sure how many other companies have been around for 120 years, but feel free to educate me via the comments section).

General Electric can be likened to my second serious college boyfriend - he gave me heaps of things (attention, love, friendship, etc.), but then he took it all away (and no, that's not bitterness. It's fact - he dumped me. Feel better now?). But unlike the cheap jewelry and novelty gifts the boyfriend gave me, G.E. has supplied me with some of my most favorite home appliances, which include:

1. The room air-conditioner (1930)
2. The combined washer-dryer unit (1954)
3. The toaster oven (1956)

My fundamental happiness is dependent on those three appliances. Dont' believe me? For five months out of the year, you can find me almost every evening parked in front of my AIR CONDITIONER eating Baskin Robbins’ ice cream cake in my underwear. And what do I do when I wake up in a pile of melted ice cream and soggy cake? I have to WASH and DRY my underwear. And what do I do while I wait for my underwear to dry? I eat TOAST- my second favorite food in the world!

In my previous post, I also go into detail about how my favorite television program, 30 Rock, will be devastated by this sale of the G.E. appliance unit, so don't forget that background information either.

I've decided that the best course of action is to buy the appliance unit myself when it comes up at auction. The New York Times has reported that the unit's net worth is at least $5 billion. And on that note, I would like to officially announce my new charity, the "Don't Destroy Everything in this World that Mary Ann Loves" foundation. Money raised through this effort will go to saving G.E., saving baby ducks and funding my fabulous lifestyle (i.e. my ice cream cake habit).

And finally, a cautionary note. Let us all remember what happened when another treasured piece of history went up for sale. Of course I'm speaking of the Beatles' song catalog. If I know my history, Michael Jackson bought the rights to the music and the next thing we know, John Lennon is trying to convince me to buy a pair of Nike sneakers because apparently they'll cause a fitness REVOLUTION. Did the rest of you just barf on your keyboards? I sure did. Blargh.

Revenge of the frozen loaf of bread.

In college, my good friend Diane showed me that by putting bread in the freezer, it would stay edible and prevent any mold from growing. I really appreciated this tip and have employed it since. Generally, I eat alot of bread so I just keep it in the fridge instead of the freezer as I eat it fast enough to prevent mold from popping up - regardless of temperature.

However, in my new place we have quite a small fridge which is being shared by four people, so there is no room for my bread - except in the freezer. Considering that it's warmer in Sydney than say, New York, most of the year, I was willing to accept the freezer. Until this morning.

At 7:02 a.m. this morning, I took my frozen loaf of bread out of the freezer. I was aspiring to make toast...a lofty goal, I know. Well, what happened next can only be described as hell fire pain. In an attempt to pry the bread from it's communal loaf, I came upon a slice that would not budge. It wouldn't come apart. Instead of giving up, I tried prying the bread slices apart with my finger nails. And that fucking piece of bread almost ripped my thumb nail off. After swearing and calling that bread loaf's mother a "yeasty bitch," I went farther into the loaf to retrieve a slice that would, in fact, seperate from the loaf at large.

The lesson I learned is this: Bread can be a real bastard when it wants to be, especially early in the morning. I've also learned that I must have borderline obsessive compulsive disorder, as I can't stop thinking about the fact that I ate the bread slices out of order. I have ALWAYS worked from the top of the loaf to the bottom (based on the assumption it's in a bag), but this morning everything was thrown out of whack and I'm now eating from two different areas in the loaf. Damn you bread! I will defeat you! Victory has not been declared!