Oh, look. Green juice.
You saw this coming, didn’t you?
My body is into it. After cookie-ing and booze-ing and making the world’s cheesiest mac and cheese for Christmas dinner, it just feels like a solid move to open up my fridge and cram all of the vegetables I can muster into a quart of super-charged green juice. It feels Popeye-esque. I halfway expect to drink this jug o’ juice, spawn some serious triceps, and punch the day in the face with awesome force.
In other words, it feels good. It feels like a proper New Year reset button. I might have not spawned immediate Popeye triceps, but I totally got out of the yoga pants I’ve been living in, put on a decent looking adult human sweater and slapped some mascara on my eyelashes. Oh, and there is a bra and it is on my body. Are we not supposed to talk about bras? I don’t remember the rules. Things are moving in the right direction. I’m officially recovering from the sloth-ity that was my holiday vacation. I’m nearly ready to sit down and do some intention setting for this year. Maybe I will even do a post about it in order to keep myself accountable. Things become progressively more real once you put them out into the world… or in my case, the entire interweb. Yikes. […]
Oh, look. Green juice.
So, I did a really super grown-up thing a week ago. Wait for it… I bought a mattress.
That’s right. I put on my adult pants, saddled up to the furniture store (let’s call it Schmacy’s) with my husband, complained about the backache being caused by my present concave sleeping slab, and was ordered to test out lots of mattress models. Firm. Soft. Pillow Top. Temperpedic. Tempertop. PillowTempertop. Firmapedic. I might have made some of those things up, but there were a lot of mattresses. Finally we found the one. The clue was that I literally fell asleep in the store. It’s weird to wake up in a department store, people. Real weird.
I suspect you know this is going down the wrong path, right? How is this going to tie into juicing for pain relief? Bare with me…
We order the mattress and I count down the days to delivery. Finally, it arrives! My sweet firm mattress with a luxurious pillow top!! Oh boy! I climb in. It feels like I am laying on a plank of distressed wood. What?! This is not the same mattress! Dangit, Schmacy’s! Since they have already hauled away my previous concave sleeping slab, I suck it up and sleep on this new torture device. I wonder if it’s just a matter of breaking it in. Nope. The next day I found myself at the doctors office in a full on back, neck and shoulder spasm. Can we just talk about the awkward look on my doctors face when I told her I got beat up by a mattress? Awkward. […]
Pump up those beets, pump them UP… while your feet are stompin’, and the beets are pumpin’. Look at here the crowd is jumpin’!!
It’s normal to change Technotronic lyrics to match your green juice recipes, right? Cool. I thought so. Can we remake this video too? Maybe the flashy background could be a bunch of psychedelic beets and we could wear hammer pants that are covered in veggies? Let’s keep all of their dance moves though. That choreography is solid. Bless the 90’s. They were good.
Did I lose some of you? Probably. Just watch the video. It will get your Wednesday movin’. Dare I say it might even pump it up? I said it. Can’t take it back now.
So, this morning I realized out of all of the juicing we have done here, we have never juiced beets together. What?! How is this possible? I love beet juice. We’ve made juice that tasted like a mojito. We’ve definitely juiced carrots. We’ve even juiced a watermelon. We’ve taken beets and blended them into one of the best smoothies of my life. Seriously, that smoothie is something special. I’ve even taken beets and made chocolate cake out of them. Whoa. Yet, I haven’t shared with you my go to beet juice recipe. This just seems wrong. Let’s fist pump and right this wrong together. I’ve got that Technotronic song in my brain so hard that my top half is typing these words to you, but my bottom half is dancing. Pump it up!! Can’t control myself.