Most bloggers or writters have that one piece that takes them forever to write before they get the guts to finally hit that publish button. This is just one of mine. It’s an art to write about something that you love. One of my loves just happens to be food. #fatkidsunite
I went out to dinner with a couple girlfriends for a ladies night a few months ago to the Melting Pot, one of whom is like my big sister. One of the girls is a “club fondue” member and had received an email about a girls night out special for a 4 course dinner. We didn’t hesitate for her to book us a reservation. I had always dreamt of going there.
Dreamt of that special romantic night out with a significant other, just the two of us drinking and talking and eating. Problem was, I always dated losers who either didn’t work and I supported them, we’re cheapskates and wouldn’t spend the money on a nice dinner, or were just a fling. It never seemed to interest the Hubs either with all the “subtle” hints I would drop about wanting to go.
So now was my chance. If I didn’t take it now, who knows when I would have the opportunity again. They were veterans, so they knew the ropes. If you’ve been there before, you know that I was in for quite the treat!
We went to the one in downtown Louisville, Colorado. It looks tiny from the outside, but looks are very deceiving. When you walk into the buidling it’s very dark and kind of hard to see, it’s to set the mood I suppose. Dark wood floors, walls, stairs. Dimmed lights. Everything is kind of creaky. But it’s a HUGE place with 2 floors. We followed the hostess upstairs to our table and I noticed that each table has their own curtain that you can close, to further set the mood. When we sat down I was overcome with excitement, I had the biggest grin on my face. I felt like a little kid, all I wanted to do was clap and sing a little diddy.
We had the BEST waiter. He was funny, friendly and knew just how to engage with us. I personally think that you have to have the right personality to be in the food biz, and boy did he have it!
Looking over the menu waiting for him to bring our iced teas and coke I saw that they had a Moscato. I’m not a wineo, but Moscato is pretty freakin tastey. I would drink it all the time if I could. One of my girlfriends had never tried it (even though I had given her a bottle in the thank you gift bags that I made for the girls who helped throw my baby shower in April). I had to get a glass for us to share. We got our drinks and I got my wine! I made her try it as soon as it was placed onto the table. And what do you know, she liked it! She even commented that it would be good for “baby makin juice”. Oh goodness.
Then Waiter-Dude brought out the stuff for the cheese. I was mesmerized watching him mix it. He had beer, cheese and all sorts of spices. It melted so fast. It was gooey. It was stringy. It looked amazing! I LOVE cheese. Almost as much as I love chocolate. And sweet tea. And pasta. And BBQ. Okay you get the point, I just love food. This was probably the best cheese dip I had ever tasted. With bread and veggies. We pigged OUT!!
Then came our salads. I ordered the Caesar like I always do whenever I about to eat somewhere. I have never made it at home, I don’t know how and I’m not too sure about bottled dressing. I like it fresh. After the amazing cheese fondue, I didn’t expect anything less from their salad. It was delish! It even had some candied pecans in it. Different. But it was a good different.
Next came the dinner course. 5 different kinds of meat and ravioli with 6 dipping sauces and a broth to cook your food in. Certified Angus Beef sirloin, Memphis-style BBQ pork medallions, Pacific white shrimp, herb-crusted all-natural breast of chicken, and teriyaki-marinated sirloin. They had a teriyaki sauce, a mustard thing, and some others. But the best one was this cream-cheesey-chive thing. You could probably put that sauce on anything, it’s THAT good! I was so full by the time we done with this course, but I couldn’t stop eating. AND we still had dessert. Serious fat kid status going on.
We upgraded our complimentary chocolate pot to a flaming turtle. Best decision we made all night, aside from the wine. Can’t forget the wine. Waiter-Dude did not cease to amaze us with this final course. He was excited! He put on show. Watching his hands work magic with the chocolate was unbelievable. It comes out already melted from the back, to save time of course. (Give me all the chocolate!) He poured the caramel on top first, followed by some 151. I remember making some joke referring back to my crazy 151 days before he lit it on fire! He played with the spoon and flame flowed up the melting chocolate. It’s almost as if the chocolate and fire were dancing with each other. It was magical. I was mesmerized once again, I couldn’t look away. Then he put the flame out and tossed some candied pecans on top before telling us to enjoy and parting ways with us. It happened really fast. I looked at the girls ready to dive in and swim in to the velvety sweetness like it was the chocolate river in Willy Wonka. We had so many choices for our dipping pleasures. Marshmallows. Rice Crispies. Bananas. Pineapple. Strawberries. Pound Cake. I kept shoveling the food in my face. I finally had to make myself stop or else I probably would have blown chunks all over the restaurant. It was to die for! I couldn’t even move out of the booth when it was time for us to leave. I wanted to live there. I wanted to set up camp. To have more. I felt like the biggest glutton in the world, but it was worth it.
When hubs asked me wanted I wanted for Christmas, I thought back to that magical night at the Melting Pot. I wanted my own fondue pot so I could have that cheesey, chocolatey goodness in the comfort of my own home. Whenever I wanted. For New Year’s we tried out my new toy, but it wasn’t the same. I wasn’t able to sell Hubs on the amazingness of the idea of fondue.
Now the 5280 restaurant week is coming up. It’s a thing they do here in Colorado for a few weeks where a ton of restaurants do discounted menus. It’s a genius marketing scheme actually. I may just have to make a reservation and not tell Hubs about it. I desperately need some fondue in my life. Made by trained professionals that is.
I am extremely late to this damn party. All those lush bunkers whores probably drank all the booze and ate all the good stuff. So that probably leaves me to stuff my face with the questionable dip that’s been sitting out for too long and the dried veggie platter that no one has touched because it’s too healthy. Bitches didn’t even leave me any cookies! Any who… The punks went on tour. Here’s my little slice.
What is your most prized possession?
I would have to say my wedding ring. It’s my reminder every day what an amazing man I have. He is my rock. While there are some days that we may not get along or agree on things or bug the ever living shit out of eachother, he is always there for me. He is always supportive on whatever choices I make. When we met, I was going through a really rough time in my life and he helped me get on the right life path. Honestly if it weren’t for him, who knows where I would be today. That’s a scary thought that I don’t like to think about. Plus, we make cute babies. 🙂
How do you unwind after a long day?
By taking off my pants!! There is nothing more satisfying than taking off those dreadful work pants and putting on something a little more comfortable as soon as I get home. Even if I did wear leggings to work that day, those bitches are coming off! Before I have to do my wife/mom duties of the night, I snuggle up with the hubs and the munchkin for a few. We usually watch one of our shows or play for a bit before I make dinner and get us all ready for the next day’s events.
What is one song that has followed you throughout your whole life?
Hysteria by Def Leppard.
Any time there has been something life altering that has happened to me, I always seem to hear this song shortly after. It never fails. Something about the words seems brightens my day.
“When you get that feelin’, better start believin’, ‘Cos it’s a miracle, oh say you will, ooh babe.”
Plus, what can I say… Joe Elliott has a magical voice.
If you could give one piece of advice to new bloggers in your field, what would it be?
This will probably sound a little redundant because ever writer that I have ever met has always says the same thing…
Write from the heart. Let your heart and feelings guide you. Go with your gut.
Whenever you read something, you can tell right of the bat whether it is a forced piece or not. You can feel the emotion that the person was feeling when they wrote it. The first few lines set the mood for the entire piece. If the reader isn’t enticed when they first start reading, they may not finish it. You want the reader to leave with a little piece of you, for them to feel like they know you or maybe even relate to you in some way.
Also, don’t get sucked into the numbers at first. That’s an overwhelming shit storm that you don’t need added on to your plate when you are just starting out. It will only make you more stressed and question everything that you are doing.
Now that you’re famous, we need a quote from you.
#fatkidsunite. Because food. And why the fuck not?
Earlier at work I was snacking on some left over queso that I made on Sunday for the Superbowl party we had. Not going to lie, but this is probably the best one I’ve made yet! I figured I would share the recipe with y’all. I made a giant batch, this could easily be cut in half.
1 block of Velveeta
1 lb. Hamburger
1/4 to 1/2 cup of Milk, depends on how thick you want it
1 can Petite Diced Tomatoes
2 4 oz cans of Diced Green Chiles
2 tsp Onion Powder
1 – 2 tsp Garlic Powder
1 tsp Cumin
1/4 tsp Paprika
1/4 tsp Cayenne Pepper
1 T Dried Minced Onion
1 tsp Salt
A couple cracks of black pepper
Cook hamburger then drain off the fat. Add the seasonings to the meat and mix then set aside. Melt Velveeta cheese in pan with milk on medium. When cheese is fully melted add in meat, tomatoes, and chiles. Turn heat to low and let simmer for a few minutes for flavors to blend together. Keep stirring so that cheese doesn’t stick and burn in the pan. Serve with tortilla chips and guacamole!
Do you consider yourself to be a crafty individual? Do you like showing off things that you’ve made? Would you like the opportunity to be showcased in a guest post on my craft blog? Then you need to check this out!!
Do you enjoy crafting? Do you enjoy seeing things that other people create? Do you enjoy getting inspiration for a future project? Do you like showing off your hard work on something that seemed to consume your every waking moment of your life until it was finished?
I know I do! I love seeing things that others do. What’s even better is when I learn a new trick or get an idea for a new material to use that I wouldn’t have thought of to use before.
I would like to showcase YOUR hard work to give inspiration to others. Sharing is caring, right?
In the very near future, I plan on rolling out a Craft Share Day. If you would like your work to be showcased in a guest post, please email the following to email@example.com:
• Materials List
• Blurb about the project (what…
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I’m sippin’ on my Friday Starbucks treat to myself trying to wake up to get motivated to get things done at work. I’m working OT again this week. I look forward to this delicious cup of coffee every Friday morning that I work. I always get up a few minutes early so that I have time to get it before I go in.
While I am trying to wake up, I’m scouring the interwebs trying to find more information about the Rush ticket pre-sale that’s happening this morning. I am determined to get a set of tickets today for Daddio and I to see them at the Pepsi Center in July. I grew up listening to them, he listened to them all the time. You could pretty much guarantee that one of their albums was in his CD player when you would get in his car. Nowadays he has them uploaded into his Jeep’s stereo.
No matter what I song I hear, it makes me think of this wonderful man that raised me, that shaped who I am today. My love for classic rock is because of him. Seeing Rush live is on my bucket list because of him. I know all about Bytor and the Snow Dog. I know how to Test for Echos. I know who Tom Sawyer is. I even know about Distant Early Warnings and the Limelight.
Rush has been defined for so many people by the handful of songs that get played over and over, all the time. Radio stations hardly ever play any of their great hits, it’s always the same ones which makes people think those are their greatest hits.
This year is their 40th anniversary tour. They have been making brilliant music for 40 years. 40 years!! Can you imagine doing one thing that you love for 40 years!? With your best friends none the less!? I can’t. I consider that to be one of the greatest accomplishments that anyone can ever make.
When I look back on memories of my dad from my childhood there’s always some kind of Rush song playing in the background of them. The one memory that will always stick with me from my childhood is when we drove back to Iowa one year for the family reunion in June. I had the most important job of the trip, finding the music we would listen to on our long drive and giving it to him to put in the CD player. He had this little wooden crate thing that fit CD’s perfectly. It held maybe 20 of them or so. He would always have it in his car and rotate out albums every once in a while.
I remember being really excited about my next choice and trying to hide the CD while I put it in. Giving him one of my sneaky little grins while doing so, that was so big it stretched from ear to ear. I scrolled through the songs really fast to the one I wanted us to listen to. I didn’t want to chance that he would hear any of the songs and give away my “surprise”.
When the song started playing, I looked at my dad. He had the biggest smile on his face. I could see the pride he had for me radiating off of him. Almost as if a giant flashlight was shining behind him. The pride of knowing that he had raised his kid right, that he had raised me to love music in the same way that he did.
The song I picked was Roll the Bones. As I’m typing this, the song is playing in my head on repeat. I can hear the rhythm of the drums. Each key stroke sound of the keyboard. The thump of the bass and each strum on the guitar and those guys rock out.
As a kid my dad’s little sister gave me the nickname Bones. I was always a tiny, petite little girl. Nothing more than a bag of bones. To this day, my entire family on my dad’s side calls me Bones and probably will until the day that I die. I’m not sure if that has something to do with my love for the song, or if it’s because of my dad’s love of Rush.
Either way, this is my song.
Thanks to my daddy.
*Edit* – 1/23/15 @ 1:10 PM
I was able to successfully purchase 2 tickets for the concert this morning!!
I told my dad that I wasn’t able to get any. My plan is to put a ticket in a birthday card in March and surprise him.
Shhh. Don’t tell him ok! It’s a surprise. 😉
I have always thought of myself as a writer, since I was maybe 10 years old. I loved to write. Poems. Short stories. Random tidbits. I never wrote in a diary though, that was too personal for me. I had tried it, but I didn’t like writing about my day and what had happened or even about myself until very recently. I tried doing the blog thing about a year and half ago, but I couldn’t stick to it for some reason. Now that I am a mom, for some reason it seems a little easier for me to do. Even though I have no time on my hands between working full time, being a wife, and being new to the mom life, I still manage to do it. Somehow. I don’t write as often as I want sometimes, I wish I could do it all day. I love it.
Since starting this new journey in my life I have had the chance to meet some amazing people. I’ve met a Brain who loves tea that has taught me to cherish the moments. I’ve met a Punk Rock Papa who is one of the best dads to 2 little tyrant boys. I’ve met a lady who loves beards probably more than I do. I’ve met a lady who calls herself a bitch, when in actuality she’s one of the sweetest people that I’ve ever met. I’ve met a lady who loves shots, because who doesn’t. And there’s many more.
I also learned that even though some of us may have the “Baby Pages” title according to some other people, we aren’t. We are mighty and we stand together to help one another out. Some of these fellow blogger friends have started their own publishing website. When they announced that they were doing it, I was so thrilled and happy for them. I thought it was the best idea ever because it is not your typical publishing site.
When I was approached by one of them before Christmas to write up a piece for it I didn’t even hesitate to say yes, although I had no idea what I was going to write about. I have a memo on my phone of things that I someday want to put words to when I have time or the guts to do them. I didn’t see anything on my list that I thought would be perfect for the The Original Bunker Punks website. I was stumped. I had thought about Sami’s birth and what it means to me to be a new mom, but figured I would save that for later. I thought about writing about my family and how we are the tightest group of Irish people that you will probably ever meet in your life, but decided to save that for later too.
Then it hit me. The day I found out we were going to be parents. This was perfect.
I’m sure I’m not the first woman, and I won’t be the last, to get upset when they found out they were expecting. As much as I had dreamed of it happening, I wanted it, it still hit me like a ton of bricks. I was stunned. It made me depressed. At first I want to take it all back. All I could think about was my wedding. All the time and planning that went into it. Not to mention the money that my mom spent. I was floored momentarily before being lifted up by the most amazing man I know.
So, here’s my story.
Of the day our lives changed forever.
What is it about co-sleeping that makes people turn up their noses?
When I tell people I co-sleep, I get the worst looks. Like “girrrrl, you crazy.” It’s even worse from the people that don’t even have kids. These people then proceed to tell me that I’m parenting wrong. Everyone always has an opinion of how others should raise their kids. The way some people react about co-sleeping, you’d swear I just ran over their dog or something. I even get this reaction from a few family members. The bitch in me wants to tell them to take a walk in my shoes.
When I tell them my reasons for doing it, the looks intensify. Almost as if they are trying to light me on fire with their mind. Ok it’s probably not that bad, but at the time that’s what it feels like. As if they are “subtly” telling me I’m a bad parent because of it. I work full time, sometimes almost 50 hours a week. Between dropping off and picking up my daughter from the sitter’s, that leaves us literally no time at home. We’re up at before 5 to get her to the sitter’s and to work before 6. We don’t get off work until 4:30. By the time we get her picked up and do what ever errands that we may need to do, most nights we’re lucky if we make it home before 6. So we’re gone about 12-13 hours a day. My daughter is almost 7 months old and she still doesn’t sleep through the night. She wakes up at least once to nurse. So co-sleeping is extremely convenient for me.
When I’m by myself and people ask if she’s sleeping through the night, I keep it short and sweet. I tell them no, she still wants to eat once and get a quick snuggle in. If Hubs is there, I almost feel like he wants me to get ganged up on for my decision. It’s as if maybe he thinks that someone else’s opinion on it will change my mind. He tells them, “Hell no, she’s even still sleeping with us.” Cue the looks.
I took this week off from work with the sole intention to get our house cleaned up and to get our daughter trained to sleep in her own room. The more I think about it, the more I don’t want to do that. The sleep training, not the house cleaning that I am currently taking a break from to finish this post that I started a while ago. I get so little time with her that I want to enjoy every moment of it. Even if that means sharing my bed with a tiny little person that likes to wake up in the middle of the night and play by herself. She thinks the bed is hers. I know Hubs doesn’t like the fact that she sleeps with us and tries to convince me she needs her bed, but he knows damn well that he will miss her when she’s not in there anymore. Our weekend wake up calls. Rolling over and seeing that beautiful smiling face. The morning snuggles. That’s what I’ll miss.
Did you or do you currently co-sleep with your little ones? How long did you do it? How did you deal with the people that didn’t agree with your decision?
Hubs and I got married a year ago on the 12th. It’s hard to believe our anniversary is in a few days, this year flew by! SP was kind of planned, but boy did she come as a shock to us! We were planning on trying after the wedding, we never expected that I would get pregnant 2 months before.
Being a parent is hard work. I’ve only done the job for 5 months, but some days I don’t know how I do it. The days when SP is cranky or not feeling well. The days where she won’t let me put her down and her dad can’t even hold her. Running off of such little sleep that i cant see straight because she still wakes up twice a night to eat. Or how her, the cat, and the hubs hog our king size bed so I can’t even move. (Yes, I cosleep.) I know that the hard parts haven’t even begun to hit us yet, but I know in my heart that this this is the job that I was born to do. There’s no job as important or perfect for me than this one. Being a Mom comes naturally to me I guess. I’ve always been told how great I am with kids. How they flock to me. My daughter is no different, she is a mama’s girl.
I can’t even begin to explain in words exactly how much I love my daughter. So much, that it hurts some days. Now I understand what my dad said when I was growing up. We would would always sign or say ‘I Love You’, ‘I Love You More’ to each other. He would always say, “No, I love you more. Now I get it.
There’s times that I tend to think random, fucked up, sometimes even morbid thoughts. I’m not sure if it’s still the hormones trying to get back to normal or just my brain over thinking like it always does. But it scares me sometimes because I know there is a possibility that some of it could actually happen. Not many people warn you about the fucked up changes your brain goes through after you push a 6 lb 3 oz being out of your vag after being in labor for over 24 hours. I swear I the shit started the night before I had her. Irregular contractions, lost my mucus plug and couldn’t sleep because I was freaked out. I even went to work for 4 hours before I decided that it was time that I should go see my doctor. I know, I’m kind of crazy. I’m a workaholic, what can I say? Well the story of SP’s birth is saved another time. Back to the task at hand…
So you’re made aware of all these fucked up brain changes right before you take your new loin fruit home, they give you an example of things you’re not supposed to think about, and then it eats at you as you make that long drive home. It seriously scared the shit out of me. I had a few of those when I first got home, nothing too crazy thank geebus. I’m sure other moms will know what I’m talking about and agree with me. Now most of these thoughts tend to happen when I’m isolated in the Casa de Leche at work for my ‘Mommy Time Outs’, but they’re nothing like the ones I had when I first had her.
Now my thoughts are senerios of if something were to happen to me and I was no longer here. How she would grow up and all of the things I would miss out on.
Her first words.
Her first steps.
Her first dance class or the first time she hits a ball off of a tee.
Her first day of Kindergarten.
The day she graduates from High School and she makes her valedictorian speech.
When she walks down the aisle.
And when she has her first baby.
I would miss it all. Everything.
Or the thought of if (heaven forbid) her father and I for some reason can’t make our marriage last. She would grow up in two differnt homes. That’s my absolute worst fear for her. My parents got divorced before I was 2. All I have ever known, is splitting time between them. Always seeing my dad every other weekend, for holidays and half of the summer with lots of time in between spent in the car. I remember long drives from Grand Junction to Denver and back all for a weekend trip, with stops in Avon for the switch off. Kremling, Grand Junction, Fort Collins, Longmont… My mom and I moved around a lot when I was growing up. All before some shit went down and I ended up moving in with my dad. (Another story for another time.) I still have to split time between them occasionally for holidays and such. My parents don’t really get along.
I will never let my daughter (or children) go through what I did.
It’s not fair for anyone.
And all of these thoughts flash before me at the same time. It puts me in a temporary paralysis. I can barely breathe. It takes everything I have to not bawl my eyes out in that room during my ‘Mommy Time Out’. That’s when loving her SO much actually hurts. My eyes are even welling up as I’m typing this with her on the boob.
I never realized how much I could love someone and worry so much, until she was born. She’s opened up my eyes and my heart so much.The moment that she was laid on my chest, I knew that I would spend the rest of my life making sure she is nothing but completely happy. She is the light of my life and being her mommy is the greatest gift I could ever be given.
My little Sassy-Pants.
If you were to meet Present Me and Past Me at the same time, you would think that there is NO way in hell that we could be the same person. Past Me would say that they would NEVER be like Present Me. Present Me would just laugh at Past Me and say, “Yeah, right. You’re just a kid.” I even have a tattoo that is proof of the fact that I thought that. I would never change. I loved who I was.
Today I had a conversation with a fellow page admin on Facebook, whom I respect and admire the shit out of. Papa is King of Facebook, he’s awesome. While the topic we were discussing was brief, it brought back A LOT of memories!! It also made me realize how far I’ve come. How much I’ve
7 years ago I was carefree. I smoked weed all day, every day. Nothing was going to change that. I partied, a lot. I was unemployed. I bounced in and out of the most toxic relationship I’ve ever been in and it was still in the early stages. That relationship
plagued me seduced me entangled me for over 4 years. I was kind of a whore, yes. I cheated We cheated on each other, a lot. But that whole mess in its entirety, is another story. I hope, and pray, that I never put myself through anything like that. Ever again. Maybe one day I will open up more about that really fucked up time in my life. There are things that happened, that I never would have thought in my wildest dreams would happen. But they did. Although, looking back I had my suspicions and things were quite obvious. It drained me. Emotionally. Physically. Mentally. No matter how much I love my life now, I love my husband and our daughter. I do. But I don’t think I will ever truly get over it. Maybe opening up one day, I can finally free myself, from myself. From my inner demons. One day.
I had just turned 19. I had
moved out been kicked out of my dad’s for the first time (of many). I had moved in with B-ster, Iss, and B-ster’s douchenozzle boyfriend Roter-Rooter into her dad’s old house. Her and I were unemployed together. We did SO much stuff, all the time. I remember the first time we drank 151. It was like lighter fluid. Bleck. But we loved it. I still do actually, just not straight. That shit has gotta be mixed with something. Preferably a hurricane.
We drank all the time. There were always epic parties at the house. We even cheated on our
men boys with a pair of roomates that actually worked with mine. Life was crazy. The Tech N9ne CD MLK (Misery Loves Kompany) was our life playlist, “That Box” & “S.O.S.” were our theme songs. I can never not think about that time in my life anytime I ever hear one of the songs from that CD.
The one thing that will always stick with me about that time in my life, is the time I went to the hospital right after my birthday. We had gone to the store to get coffee creamer and stuff to make breakfast. We had smoked a bowl right before we went in to, because why not. Shortly after we walked into the store I ended up getting light headed and sat on the counter by the donuts. I knew I was going to pass out if I didn’t sit down. It had happened once, maybe twice before after I smoked a bowl of schwagg right after I woke up. This bitch walks by and has the NERVE to talk shit to me and tell me “Do you really think that’s sanitary, you sitting up there?” I gave her the nastiest look I could muster at the time, and said “Fine, I’ll get my dirty ass up!” As I went to get up, I blacked out. Apparently I hit my head on the glass door on the donuts case as I fell according to B-ster. All I remember is briefly waking up to B-ster picking me up. I straightened my arms and looked at her and just laughed before blacking out again. I woke up to a ton of people around me asking if I was ok. My blood sugar was low and I was dehydrated. I drank some OJ and I was fine. I was ready to go on about my day. Then this asshole EMT pretty much forced me to go to the hospital. He kept arguing with me when I told him I was fine. Needless to say after a $1400 ambulance ride and who knows how much for the hospital (I can’t remember), I was fucking FINE! Low blood sugar and slightly dehydrated. Like I already knew!
My dad flew to the hospital from work after B-ster called him. He was so worried. I remember picking up seeds from my bed and handing them to B-ster, neither of us knowing how they got there. My dad didn’t like that. What will always stick with me though is he “conversation” we had. That we basically sucked at life. That we were worthless because we were unemployed and not doing anything productive with our lives. We were having sweaty, non air conditioned sex, while eating nothing but Top Ramen. Though it wasn’t even true. We actually ate rather well and always cooked the most EXTRAVAGANT meals (that’s another story too) for tons of people every night.
That sentence still makes me laugh as I repeat it. It’s also still an inside joke with us, it’s even in the “house rules”. And she still lives in that house to this day. Those rules still
live sit in the same place they did when I lived there. One day I will need to post them up. They are quite hilarious.
I had a BLAST in my late teens/early 20’s years. Although some fucked up shit always seemed to happen, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. It’s made me who I am today.
So the saying goes…
“The past is the past for a reason.”
Even if it does involve sweaty, non air conditioned sex, while eating nothing but Top Ramen.
I love your face bitch. ♡