Jess: "So, Gil and I went to this Jewish diner on Sunday morning in Philly that had the most amazing juicer I have ever seen. They would literally pour an entire box of whole oranges into the top of it, and it would suck them in, slice them, juice them and dispose of the remains in a container underneath; the front was nearly entirely clear so (we'd see) almost everything. We were sitting at the counter, transfixed. It was like watching something at a science museum — for juice."

When you raise the orange juice glass for the first gulp of the day and miss, bouncing it off your front teeth. Fortunately, the kind of snow that fell last night is "sweepable snow." And the rumor-rejecting Irish Times cheers us all up with a question for DCist: "Do you know how to get a hold of the people who post on the Internet?"

(DCist also informs me the LBJ Grove and the rest of the Boundary Channel-ed Columbia Island, while being on the Virginia side of the Potomac, are actually part of Washington, as are the rest of the Potomac's islands. How do I not know this?)

I don't think I'd ever tasted Bolthouse Farms orange juice before Sunday night, but the juice made me think I had. It was fresh, full-tasting, and moderately pulpy without needing to specify so on the front of the container.

What the bottle did say — on the side — was this: "Five servings of fruits and vegetables are recommended every day for good health … and you are holding more than 4 of them." Number style issues aside, the selling point sold me. After finishing one of the two bottles I bought, on sale two for $5, I was orange-filled and pleased.

I've always taken my orange juice seriously, at least as seriously as one can take orange juice without time and a juicer. Which is probably only a little bit seriously. But in that capacity, I'd say Bolthouse has created a true contender against Simply Orange. If only the prices would drop, I'd banish the concentrates from my fridge.

Orange juice after blueberry cornbread.

In other news, the world's major media outlets tell me that Baby Jessica has grown up and graduated from high school. Having been seven years old at the time, I feel like I missed the boat. Maybe you do too. Please join me in a rendition of Generation Y's connection to Baby Jessica — We're Sending Our Love Down a Well from Radio Bart.

After this morning's entry, I went into kitchen and nearly poured my cereal into my orange juice glass. I've poured orange juice on my cereal many times, but today's style of confusion was a first.