Friday Flotsam

friDAY. FRIday. FRIDAY. friday.

Listen to this dream I JUST HAD 20 minutes ago.

You’re like, “Not with the dreams agaaaain.”

So I was at some big market thing. But it wasn’t just food. It was everything. Shops, restaurants, everything. Everything. (<–just kidding about saying everything 230 times in a row.) I think it was downtown KC? Regardless, I was on a mission to GET MY NAILS DONE. (Oh, and I had both of my kids with me. Which adds a layer of “hail no” to the whole thing.) I walked into this long, skinny shotgun-type of nail salon, trendy pop music blaring, every gal covered in sleeve tattoos. In the veeery back was this friendly, but aloof nail technician with spiky pink hair.

Her, “Want to see some color?”

Me, “Yes! I want mustard. Like mustard yellow.”

There was this HUGE display of various shades of mustard yellow. (Mind you, in real life, I would never put mustard on my nails. I love the color on mad levels everywhere else, just not my nails. And now all I can hear is American Tail’s “NEVER SAY NEVERRRRR” ringing in my ears.)

Anyway, she wouldn’t let me pick a mustard. She kept pushing and pushing for this one strange shade of gray. I think there were 50. Just kidding.

She was like, “Listen, this goes ON as mustard, but it will dry gray. It’s beautiful.”

And I was like, “I DON’T WANT GRAY. Look at all these yellows! Why won’t you let me try this honey? Or this annatto?” (<–which isn’t even yellow, BEV.) Homegirl refused to let me pick a mustard, out of their entire mustard yellow selection. I just stood there, deflated and frustrated. Paintless nails weeping from my depressed fingertips.

Will had fallen asleep under my legs by this time, and Nat was standing by the doorway playing with a tiny backpack.

Did I ever get my nails panted mustard? NO. Why? WHY? DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY?

Because I woke up.

The end.

Great story, right?

I went to Wisconsin last week!

I don’t have an official blog post about the trip, but I thought I’d tell you a little bit about it in this here flawtsum post. This isn’t sponsored content, so don’t punch me! Just good old fashioned cheese blah blah blah from me to you.

Wisconsin is STUNNING. At least the parts I saw. We stayed at the Graduate in Madison, right in the heart of campus and the town. It was a few feet away from the lake, where all these young thin college students bebopped around with exposed legs and backpacks slung over one shoulder. NO ONE HAD JOWLS. I cry.

So our purpose there was to meet the makers behind the cheese. We took this S W A N K Y tour bus around Wisconsin and visited four cheese plants, and one dairy farm. I kept calling us Fleetwood Mac and Cheese. You know, since we were on tour. Around cheese. Fleetwood Mac and Chee – right.

It was just incredible to finally SEE the person who makes the cheese that I regularly buy. There’s something about hearing a voice, watching body mannerisms, hearing family stories about their business and their craft and how they got where they are, that SERIOUSLY MADE ME TEARY. And I got to wear a hairnet. So.

My favorite cheese we tried?

I LOVED the Dunbarton Blue Cheese from Roelli. Omg. It’s like, a hybrid love baby between cheddar and blue. Crazy! Just straight crazy.

We also had LIMBURGER from Chalet. Dirty socks toe jam cheese. You’d be surprised how delish it is once it gets past your nose. I learned that the traditional way of eating it is right after smearing it in your armpit. Just kidding. You put it on RYE, with MUSTARD (my nails will never know the joy), and thinly sliced onions. I’m dying to try it. But only if I’m alone with zero human beings around me for at least 2 -18 hours.

High up there was the Grand Cru Surchoix from Emmi Roth! O-M-G. It was named World Champion of all the cheese in 2016. There was so much surchoix shoveling going on. It got ugly.

And then another personal standout for me was the 12 year aged cheddar from Widmer’s. Insanity. Chalky, sharp, creamy, never-leave-my-face glorious.

Oh! I want to host another wine-tasting party this summer and feature all these CHAYSES. Would you be down if I did? Then maybe talk about pairings and ish?

I wouldn’t get too cheesy, I swear. (<–please don’t delete me from your life.)

So I’m really getting into face masks. I’ve made it my new Sunday night thing. Face mask night! Sunday night mask night! Face Sunday Mask Night! Something.

So far I’ve tried this pink clay mask that my girlfriend gave me for my 40th last summer. I love it! THEN I tried Bentonite clay mixed with apple cider vinegar. Dudes, it made me look freaking sunburned. Did you see that on my Stories? I WAS RADIATING HEAT. Only for an hour though, then normal life resumed. But this darling Indian woman wrote me and suggested mixing milk or yogurt with it for next time. Ah ha! The acid was a bit too much for my tender face. For my sensitive, fragile, delicate baby girl face. (not really on that whole last sentence.)

This weekend I’m trying a charcoal mask from that Beautycounter company thingy. Someone from BC is sending it to me, so I’m excited to find if it’s REALLY the best? It’s $50 bucks, so it better wash my dishes, too.

Next on the list is the Origins charcoal mask. Is it similar to BC’s mask? Is it better? We’ll seeeeeeeeee DU DU DUUUH.

If you have any must-try suggestions, holla. I’ll totally try them on Stories and letcha know what I thank.

They need to make one that looks like Jim Carrey in The Mask. I’d totally buy it! SOMEBODY STOP MEEEEEH.

I can chill.

Weekend plans?

Oh hey, it’s Mother’s Day weekend! I almost forgot. That’s it. I demand we all have a picnic park day on Sunday. Mimosas, snacks, chocolate, a bike ride, repeat. But not in that order.

We’ve had such an insane couple of weeks, so I plan on doing little to nothing. Mow the lawns, shoot a couple of recipes, pick out a new backyard blowup pool, catch up on laundry, watch a bunk ton of 13 Reasons Why, hit the farmer’s market, get my rosé on, you know.

Little to nothing.