If you follow me on Facebook or Instagram, you might have already seen I’m smack dab in the middle (er…the first week) of a Whole 30. One of the questions I got when I so boldly announced I was going to swear off cheese for thirty days to a world full of internet friends and strangers was, “What the heck is a Whole 3o?” Great question. I can point you to the official website where they explain this cray to the cray endeavor I’ve decided to journey on. But, I’ll give you the gist: It’s thirty days. No grains, beans, dairy, sugar, or anything processed. You can eat all the veggies, meats and fruits that you want, along with nuts, seeds and good fats like coconut oil or coconut milk. Try to keep it organic. The less processed the better. You know — blah blah blah — healthy things. Continue reading
Gut reactions. Let’s talk about them.
For instance, my gut reaction when ending a phone conversation is to say “I love you.” This bodes well most of the time since my most frequent phone convos happen between myself and my husband or my mother or my best friend. But, this can prove awkward when trying to end a call with a telemarketer. It might go something like this: “No. I don’t want to take your survey. Please take me off your list. Okay. I love you. Bye.” Ugh. There it goes, just flying out of my mouth. Do you want to know how many preliminary job interviews or business phone calls I’ve almost ended that way? All of them. I kid you not. I literally start pre-panicking in my head about five minutes before the end of a business conversation and mentally prep myself to not automatically spew my misplaced affections all over the person on the other end of the line. Continue reading
I am going to be up front with you…
Every time I see someone post a picture of a green smoothie that contains avocado, I squirm. Avocados are for guacamole. You put them on top of your toast and sprinkle it with sea salt. You can totally sub them in for mayonnaise and make a Green Egg Salad. But, smoothies? Really? Is it a guacamole smoothie? I’m not sold. Why is this happening? I just can’t hang. I’ve been mistrusting of any and all humans that have muttered the words “avocado pudding” or claimed to make a great “vegan avocado brownie”. Shudder.
Like most of my food aversions, I decided to just dive right in. Challenge accepted. Guacamole smoothie, I’m coming for you.
My first avocado smoothie was horrifying. No joke. It was pretty much all veggies with half of a frozen banana. It tasted bitter. I spat it out. I felt sad. This smoothie was supposed to prove me wrong. It was supposed to be life-changing and wonderful and simply everything. Perhaps I put too much pressure there? Probably. No matter. As I spat out the evil green goo I had foolishly concocted in my Vitamix and watched it slink down the drain, it started a fire inside of me. A metaphorical fire. A smoothie-revenge-fire. An I-will-totally-win-you-fire. Avocado smoothie, you will be mine. MUAHAHAHAHA! (Dastardly avocado whispering evil laugh) Continue reading
How is everyone’s guacamole hangover going? You know what they say… the best way to cure a hangover is to eat some guacamole in the shower. Or was that drink a beer in the shower? I can never remember. Perhaps do both to cover your bases. Tortilla chips in the shower are not recommended, however, as they tend to get soggy when mixed with water. You’re going to have to go at it with a spoon. NBD.
So, this weekend I made one of these:
Oh, Emma. Continue reading
When you are a kid, there’s pretty much no vehicle more awesome than an ice cream truck. It’s sugar on wheels. I remember the ice cream truck targeting our neighborhood since it was filled with kids. My brother and I would perk up, then in a joint effort run to our parents. “Can we PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE get some ice cream?!” It was as if nothing else mattered and maybe we could possibly die if ice-creamy goodness did not hit our lips in the next two minutes. Sometimes the ice cream truck would travel to our house close to dinner time, and the answer would be no. In these cases I remember the world ending a little bit. There was some light pouting, maybe some foot stomping. My brother, who is six years younger than myself, would either follow my pout-y lead, or in a true act of excellence THROW himself on the floor. We were dramatic. Mom ignored it. Good move, mom. Imagine what we could do if we had an audience! Continue reading