Happy Monday, Friends! Today I’m guest posting over at one of my favorite blogs, Tasty Yummies! My girl Beth has been hustling like crazy to get her yoga teaching certification and invited us over to host a little party in her absence. Well, while Beth works on her epic yoga arms, I say we go ahead and pour ourselves a cocktail. Good.
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Alright, so I made BBQ Sauce. From scratch. *Queue the triumphant music a la Chariots of Fire.*
Dramatic, yes. Can you tell I’ve just impressed myself? Because, I’m feeling like a proud peacock. That’s right. I wanna open up my big peacock man-tail and strut it around in all of its fanned-out glory. I have to be a dude peacock in this scenario because the females don’t have those wondrous fancy tails. Bummer. Oh, well. But yeah… I’m humble-bragging over condiments. This is happening right now.
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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. […]
I know, we’re running out of time for Christmas baking. I get it.
But every now and again a little bit of magic happens in the kitchen and you’d just feel guilty keeping that magic all to yourself. That’s this cookie. I don’t want to get arrested by the Cookie Police and harshly sentenced on account of not sharing. I’m going to share. I promise. Chill out, Cookie PD. Get those cookie cuffs off my wrists. I’m going to need these hands for baking. […]
