FRI-YDYDYDYDYAAAAAAY. (that was me saying Fri-yay without actually saying Fri-yay.)
I’ve been keeping something in for quite a while now. It’s a fact that I’ve come to accept about myself and embrace, without shame. Just yesterday, however, I was finally able to say the words out loud and not brace for disapproval or disgust. And I’m ready to share it with you all here. Today. Right now.
I do not like smoothies.
THERE. I said it.
I DO NOT LIKE SMOOTHIES. Pretty much at all. Aaron makes them on the regs and every time he sets a glass down in front of me I’m like, “Oh good, another glass of frigid, loose fruit chili.”
First of all, a smoothie is way too cold. Not that I’d prefer a lukewarm smoothie. I honestly cannot think of anything worse. But a glacial vat of slippery, frothy produce? Please.
If it’s going to be that blasted cold, it better have chocolate in it and rhyme with smice lream.
If it’s going to be breakfast food, it better have a runny yolk and melted cheese on top.
You know how much some people eat for their blood type? I think mine is Type NO SMOOTHIES.
Thank you for listening.
Okay, I am absolutely obsessed with the idea of having a backyard movie night. Can’t stop thinking about it. And I’m talking – the old fashioned kind, with a white sheet tied to a tree, blankets and pillows scattered for days, buttered popcorn out the bazonka, pitchers of cocktails, tiki torches, DIRTY DANCING omg, the whole rigamaroo.
But what I’m hung on is . . . the projector. Now, I’ve been doing a lot of research (also known as a raging Pinterest whore) on projectors and I’m totally lost. All this talk about lumens and pixels and horsepower. No.
This is the thing – I don’t want to spend a bajillion bucks. But I also want it to work. It doesn’t have to be the BEST quality ever, because hi, we’re outside. And I’m on my third rosé. And I’m talking all the way through the movie like a tool. And you’re this close to punching me.
Do you do movie nights? Can you recommend a good projector? We’ll use our guitar amp for sound, hahaha! Oh.
I’ll even do a full post on eet eef yew haaayelp meeeeeh.
p.s. BABY AND JOHNNY.
POLL: (I’m yelling a lot in this post. Terribly sorry about that.)
Let’s take a vote. You know how some people shorten favorite to either fav, or fave? Well, in my opinion one of these is wrong. Because let’s think about how it SOUNDS. Fav = FAHV. It’s my fahvorite? Nerp.
Now, fave? FAVE. FAVE-orite. That one is right. Don’t you agree? How do you shorten it? Fav has always really bugged me. It reminds me of this old indie band I used to listen to, Les Savy Fav. And it’s pronounced FAHV.
So there’s no way fav is right for favorite. No no. Ain’t right.
I’m spending way too much time in my head.
New show recommend! You’re like, HOW is this post not over yet?
Have you heard of In an Instant? OMG.
It’s suuuuper intense. It’s as long as movie, nearly an hour an a half per episode. And it’s all about how one someone almost dies. But in CRAZY ways. Like, husbands trying to kill you, falling into a corn grain bin, bridges COLLAPSING INTO RIVERS, bears eating you, planes crashing and you’re stranded – terrifying. But it’s better than other dramatic reenactment shows. The actors are better. It’s more well produced. The interview lighting is brighter. (I notice these weird things)
You have to watch it, holy freak. We watch it on Hulu. Look it up tonight. I’m telling you. Start with the bridge one. Remember when that huge bridge in Minneapolis collapsed back in 2007? WATCH IT.
I still don’t like smoothies.
Weekend plans? We’re going to be working on our basement (organizing before we wrap our heads around a huge remodel, which is already giving me gas.) – and our backyard hammock corner! Remember on Snapchat when I showed you that huge wooden post that Aaron put way into the ground? Yeah, didn’t work. So we’re (he’s) going to pour concrete in it so that we (he) can better stabilize it. Then we’re (he’s) going to reattach the hammock so that we (I) can decorate it with blankets and solar string lights and a drink cart! I’ll keep you persted on the snerps.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to eat a runny yolk with melted cheese on it LIKE A NORMAL PERSON.