Remember Spring Break?! (Maybe you’re in college or high school and are lucky enough to be on Spring break or be on the verge of your break. I’m jealous.)
Where I went to college (Winston-Salem, North Carolina), the thing to do was to drive down to Savannah, Georgia and celebrate St. Patrick’s Day. I was usually too poor to do this, but I did it one year and OMG that city knows how to celebrate St. Paddy’s Day. The entire city shuts down and everyone is in the street, drinking, partying and being spooked by possible ghosts. Savannah is beautifully haunted.
Nowadays, the idea of drinking green beer in the street sounds like hell. Literally, you could not pay me. I’d much rather sit on a quiet beach where I can relax, drink a cocktail and have no one speak to me for hours at a time. That’s what I crave at this age: silence and alcohol.
Can I be honest? I don’t LOVE lemon flavored desserts. You’ll never see me whipping up a lemon bar and passing them out to all my friends. I’m more likely to give you pie or pancakes or hugs. Lemon desserts are usually a tad too sweet for me, and they usually make me pucker way too much and I make a super ugly “pucker” face. Trust me, it’s not cute.
There’s a popular photo amongst my family of me when I was three years old being taunted by my much older uncle to “close my eyes and stick out my tongue.” My aunt was camera-ready while my uncle swiped a lemon on my tongue. I apparently made the scariest “pucker” face ever. Also, now you know that my family found it funny to torture me as a small child. This explains why I torture Amelia–it’s a learned practice!
Alright dudes and dudettes, today we have my all-time favorite appetizer to hate: shrimp cocktail. This app–made famous by hotels and cruise ships alike–can most commonly be found hanging on for dear life to a martini glass filled to the brim with gross cocktail sauce.
Shrimp cocktail usually reminds me of tacky, cheap chandeliers and women wearing too much costume jewelry and big ships that aren’t yachts. Yeah. It totally reminds me of cruise ships…and South Florida.
But honestly, every time I’ve found myself on one of those “party 12-hour cruise ships”–thats sole purpose is to just go into the middle of the ocean and that’s it!–I get super pumped at the sight of shrimp cocktail. And yeah, every single time–no fail–the shrimp is overly cooked and rubbery. And the cocktail sauce is predictably too sweet and just tastes like straight-up ketchup. But I usually think, whatever, so what, who cares…I’M ON A BOAT!
Right now though, I’m not on a boat (and most likely, you aren’t either), so putting in a little work to get awesome shrimp cocktail is important. Let’s make it right!
Have you ever lost your car in a parking lot? No, not for like a few minutes and then you’re like, ohhhh there it is! No. Like you lost it for 30 solid minutes and walked–what felt like miles–AND have blisters from your new shoes to prove it? Yeah, well that happened yesterday.
This may be a total shocker to some of you, but in third grade I was not the cool girl.
Definitely not the cool girl. But I also wasn’t the weird girl, the girl that smelled nor the girl that was super jockey and athletic.
I was just way normal. Like really normal. Too normal for my own good. So I’m pretty sure I just kinda faded into the background…
The cool girls were the sprightly blond ones. Their hairs were always French braided. They wore a lot of pink. They were talkative and outgoing. The boys liked to punch them, in a good way (I think). And they had awesome packed lunches. (Read: Lunchables, Cheetos, Snack Packs.)
I was like, the antithesis of the situation you just read.
My dad thought it was a genius idea to buy me boys’ tennis shoes because he thought they were “designed” better. So yeah…I have him to thank for that. I was shy and quiet and observant. And my hair was frizzy and always sort of a mess. My mom, nor I, could French braid despite how many times we tried.
And my lunch…ugh…my lunch was always kind of lame. Think like, hummus, crudites and…arroz con pollo. Tell me! …how is a child supposed to be cool with yellow rice in their lunchbox?!?!
But now…I’m a totally different person. I know how to use a blow-dryer. My clothes are better. That lunch would actually make me excited. And I know how to do regular braids, French braids and fishtails. Yeah…I totally graduated to braiding pro status.
Despite who you were in third grade, everyone can braid this cheese danish. Everyone.