I hid it on the top shelf behind two dirty rags and a box marked ‘weights & stuff.’ Tonight, nothing was coming between me and Property Brothers. Before long, however, my guilty conscious started screaming and I turned myself in: I stopped the treadmill and handed Jon the remote.
We’re that sickly-sweet couple that runs side-by-side on the treadmill and yells things like ‘race you’ and ‘keep going’ while offering up high-fives. The gym routine is all cake-and-cream, but it becomes complicated when we’re sharing a TV screen. Jon wants to watch baseball or the news, and I want to watch Property Brothers or Top Chef. Most times we debate back-and-forth until one of us gives in (I’ll let you shower first if …..) but Jon was late to the gym tonight and it occurred to me that we could skip the debate if the remote went missing….
Sweet Jon checked all the bikes and treadmills and stair-masters when he arrived at the gym. Defeated, he told me that the remote was missing and we’d have to watch whatever was already on (Rehab Addict). His whole search took about 10 seconds, but I felt guilty and told him to look on top of the bookcase behind the rags. Jon grabbed the remote, smiled, and put on the Brewers vs. Pirates game. Before he started running, Jon did Zoolander-type stretches that made me laugh so hard I almost fell off my treadmill. No one else makes me laugh that way — the ‘lose control and grab your side and hope you don’t snort’ kinda way — and I realized that he could have the remote forever. I like him that much.
The Phoenix sun took its toll, and we took refuge in my sister’s borrowed car in the parking lot. We opened the moon roof, turned on the radio, and crawled into the back seat. Very high school of us, I know.
Unlike most teenage trips to the backseat, this adventure was PG. We were exhausted from flying to Phoenix, driving to the Grand Canyon, hiking Sedona, and then going to the spring training games. I curled into Jon’s arm, thinking about how perfect the trip had been, and marveled at how I’d rather be lounging in the backseat than anywhere else in the world.
How does that happen? What mix of ingredients does it take to transform the most ordinary of places into somewhere seemingly magical and worthy of travel?
We weren’t in the City of Lights or the Land of Plenty, but I wanted the moment to continue on and on (and on). If Travelocity sold this vacation, I would buy it without a single question or second thought.
Give me tenderness in the backseat of a beat-up old car. Show me the stars and let me be giddy about your arms wrapped around me. We’ll play folk songs and let the world fade away.
When we got back to my sister’s, Jon did fantasy baseball research (he runs 3 teams) while I baked some treats for my family. I meant to make strawberry shortcake muffins, but I bought the wrong kind of cake (luckily) and ended up with something better than I could have imagined — Strawberry Lemonade Cupcakes.
Easy as pie and delicious as, well, cake. If you want to make your own, make lemon cupcakes, place a strawberry in the center when cooled, and then top with whipped cream. A recipe so good it should be trending.
I like calling my friends to see if they can play. I started making the formal request in the 6th grade, and I never quite broke the habit. Friends tell me that it’s not ‘play’ if you’re running errands or going to music festivals or baking a cake, but I persist. Maybe I just like the question. Strangers try and tell me I’m too old for play, but I can’t hear them because I’m busy on the swings.
I wanted to incorporate play into my RAH RAH RAH series, and so, quite naturally, I decided tattoo parlor would be a fun game. I designed temporary tattoos on my computer, printed them out, and then called my friends to see if they would play with me. Lauren agreed under the condition that she could pick out tattoos for strangers. Chrissy, being difficult, said she would only play if she could place the tattoos on strange body parts.
And so, our trio headed into the streets of Minneapolis to give temporary tattoos to strangers. We figured that 50% of people would find us annoying and 50% would get a tattoo for kicks. We were very, very wrong. 90% of people wanted tattoos, and our shop closed down from lack of supply within an hour:
I was typing this post and thinking about how awesome Chrissy and Lauren are. Top notch, really. Here is your chance to get to know them:
If you want to download the tattoos I made, you can find them here : tattoo.
Candy walls? Check. Golden tickets? Check. True love, street art, and candy all pop into my mind when I think about my favorite things. All three things get all mixed up (probably because I feel true love for street art and candy), and it’s actually a little bit hard to decide which one is my favorite. Just kidding, Jon (you win, always).
But seriously, street art is one of my favorite things because it brings a little creativity and fun to the ordinary, and candy is a favorite because it’s an instant way to sweeten your day (and, as my dentist knows, I don’t just have one sweet tooth – I have sweet teeth).
Today, I combined 2 of my 3 favorite things to create edible street art. I think I will call it ‘sweet street art.’ That has a nice ring to it, no? My monogrammed ‘J’ bag by Irresistibles LLC works perfectly for sneaking candy all over the city. The designer, Kari, makes all kinds of stylish monogrammed bags by hand. As a perk for my readers, she is giving away this cute polka dot bag:
For a chance to win, simply tell me something that makes you happy (use the ‘say hello’ tab at the top of the page.)
Oh- and if you’re in Minneapolis, head over to Bryant Square to find the golden ticket hidden in the smiley face 🙂
i had so much fun watching the twins beat the brewers last week that i didn’t think twice when jon mentioned we should get tickets to last night’s phillies/twins game. our friend andy was in town from madison, and the sun was shining — signs were pointing to a perfect summer night.
andy (former elephant keeper turned dentist):
summer night at the ballpark:
the evening took a turn for the worse in the first inning, when the phillies scored an easy run, and it was obvious that this wasn’t going to be much fun for the twins fans. to make things worse, aaron hicks was injured, and so we didn’t get to watch my favorite player. the find score ended up being 3-2 phillies, and it reminded me of the adage “to the victor- the spoils” (ie, all the fun at the end of the night.. it’s never quite as nice to leave the ballpack wishing you had fun as celebrating in the streets).
lucky for us, the company was excellent, and i laughed so hard i cried not once, but twice. maybe the quote should really be the ‘to the friendly, the spoils?’ okay okay okay, that’s perhaps the cheesiest thing i’ve ever said — but i’m not taking it back.