My SOTG Cocktail Recipe

I have just finished reading Jennifer Fulwiler's amazing book Something Other Than God. If you're not familiar with her, this book details her journey of conversion from hard-core atheist to super-cool Catholic. It brought me closer to my faith and also let me (a cradle Catholic, as we say) see how someone could really have that kind of 180 experience. The book just came out last month, and she had a release party on her blog, which included all kinds of wacky contests. This is what I submitted for her SOTG-inspired drink contest.

Thanks Jen, for a great excuse to have a cocktail during nap time!

I call this the Something Other Than a Sunset Over Austin (I think, per the rules of the contest, I was just supposed to call it the SOTG . . . oops. Call it what you want.)

I used the SOTG acronym to stand for other things for the drink:
S- Sugar (for the rim)
O - Orange Juice (3oz.)
T - Tequila (1½-2oz. or more)
G - Gatorade (2oz.)

Also needed: 1 Lemon (only half, really)

Sugar the rim of the glass you will be using, using some of lemon to moisten the rim. Pour 1½ fl. oz of tequila (or however much you like) and 3 fl. oz. of orange juice in glass. Add 2 fl oz. red Gatorade*. Squeeze some lemon juice into the drink and garnish with a lemon slice. Sip like you're a lady. Or devour like a SAHM whose kids finally went down for a nap after a long morning.

*I really wanted to try this with blue Gatorade, but did not make it to the store. Feel free to try both!

Bottoms up!

What I Wore Sunday (Vol. 19)

Linking up with the beauties at FLAP

Sorry for the crappy quality picture. B was napping, so I did a selfie from the bar counter, and I had to really edit the crap out of it to get it looking halfway decent. Also, Yuengling! They don't sell that beer here in Indiana, but B is a total beer 'snob' and only likes that particular brand. So we were given a case last week when his brother drove in from DC. My parents also said they'll be bringing him some when they visit in July. As for me, I hate all beers (it's either the hops or the barley, never cared enough to figure out which), so I got me some hard cider in the fridge.

I originally intended to wear a skirt and sandals, but it was raining.

Shirt: NY&Co. // Pants: Alloy // Shoes: Old Navy // Watch: Charming Charlie // Necklace: The Vintage Pearl

I won a shop credit to The Vintage Pearl in a giveaway. Their specialty is personalized jewelry with your children's names and birthstones. So there's a garnet for Cora's January birthdate and a little pearl (which was standard, but is also my June birthstone). I have been wearing this necklace a lot lately!

In other news, that watch is made up of a bunch of safety pins :-)

Happy Father's Day to all the earthly fathers, spiritual fathers, and fathers-to-be. And may God bless all of my friends who have lost their fathers, since I know this day is not the easiest for you.

I'll leave you with this sweet picture of my husband, who is an awesome father.

I have some thoughts about kangaroos and sex that I almost included here, but I think that will be its own post later this week.

music monday: key-dollar-sign-ha

Does anyone else have a love/hate relationship with Ke$ha?  Or maybe it's just me.

Like most people, I think she's ridiculous!  Her songs definitely glamorize clubbing every night, drinking in excess, and being promiscuous.  Yes, a hedonistic lifestyle that I don't agree with and never participated in anyway (not even when I was 22 and single).  She's been criticized for objectifying men, but that's definitely a double standard since rap guys objectify women all the time.  I'm not saying that makes it okay, though, since I actually hate songs that objectify women and barred the DJ from playing "Baby Got Back" at my own wedding reception (true fact!).  So if you're gonna hate on her, don't do it for that reason.

What actually makes Ke$ha a decent artist is that even when you hear a new song of hers, you always know who it is.  A signature sound is a great thing for an artist to have (as long as every song doesn't sound exactly the same).  Ke$ha's hallmark of rap/talk plus irreverent lyrics plus electronica/autotune makes her stand out from the crowd.  So much so that she actually had quite a few hits last year. 

But I mostly love her because her songs are so damn catchy!  And they make me laugh.  I think "Your Love Is My Drug" is my favorite, except for the last 20 seconds.  Last week at the library when I was perusing through the CD's (it's a habit), I came across her two albums and actually checked them out for the comedic value.  She did not disappoint!  Two of my 'favorites' are below on the playlist.  (Pardon the profanity, but remember this is Ke$ha.)

The first one got stuck in my head pretty quickly, but that second song is truly, truly terrible.  Also, if you think her songs are hilarious, check out some of the parodies!  A fave of mine is below.  (The Key of Awesome has some more amazing videos, and you can waste a whole night laughing your bum off watching their videos, so caveat emptor, y'all.)





So what's your opinion on Ke$ha?  Good, bad, ugly?  (All of the above?)  And did you not just love that amazing parody?

the best game ever: picta-phone

A few weeks ago, I found myself at a friend's house, celebrating her big 3-0, and playing this game that was perfect for our late night crowd.  The people I was with only called it "the best game ever," which is annoyingly nondescript and makes the actual game itself hard to remember.  It's kind of like a pictorial game of telephone, and it's a hoot!

You will need:

• At least 6 people (8-12 is probably ideal)
• Enough index cards or quarter-sheets of paper for (number of people)^²  -- we had 8 people, so we needed 64 cards

 These puppies got me through college, so of course I always found bargains!

• And 1 writing utensil per person 

I love my lambie pen from my '08 Easter basket!

How to play:
1. Each player gets a set of index cards (divvied up evenly, of course)
2. Use the blank sides of the cards, if applicable
3. Each player will write a phrase or a saying on the first card - keep it a secret what it is!
4. Once everyone has written their phrase, each player will keep their phrase card on the top and will pass their ENTIRE STACK of cards to the person on their left.
5. The receiver will then read the phrase and then DRAW a picture of it on the next card.  So, if the card said, "The cow jumped over the moon," then the receiver will draw their best rendering of that.  6. You cannot use words or symbols in the picture.  Move the phrase card to the back of the pile.
7. When everyone is done, the cards pass to the left again, with the picture on top.
8. The new receiver will now WRITE what they see.  Don't look at the phrase card in the back, just write what you see in the picture.
9. Game play passes to the left again, alternating writing and drawing until you get your original phrase back in your hands.
10. Then it's show-and-tell time!  Everyone gets a turn to show the other players the "journey" that their phrase has taken.  This game is probably even better when combined with alcohol* (what game isn't?).

When we played this, my "On Wednesdays, we wear pink" (a quote from Mean Girls) resulted in an old man doing his laundry because he is out of clean clothes, and the phrase "30 and Flirty" evolved into a bawdy scene so controversial that I can't even post it on the blog!  And to think I was playing this with my good lil' Catholic friends!


*Please only drink legally and responsibly!

pink lemonade

I don't like soft drinks.  I gave them up a few years for Lent back in high school, and I never turned back.  I also make a horrible excuse for a Southern Belle, as I cannot stand sweet tea.  And unsweet tea is a punishable offense where I'm from.  Coffee looks (and smells) disgusting, so I'm oh-for-three in the caffeine department.  But at most restaurants, especially fast-food ones, I want more than water.  Enter lemonade.  Sometimes - actually more often - of the pink variety.

I've been drinking this stuff for years and never questioned it before.  But what the heck is pink lemonade?  Why is it pink?  Is other pink/red fruit added, like raspberries?  But wait, isn't that called raspberry lemonade?  Are there pink lemons?  Or is it just color?  And which does it mix better with, vodka or rum?  These, my friends, are questions that keep me awake at night.  Or, more accurately, keep Google in business.

So I did my homework, mostly thanks to everyone's favorite collaboratively-edited encyclopedia.  (What the hell did we do before Wikipedia?  I kinda doubt there was a pink lemonade article in our '97 WorldBook set.)  Yes, there are pink lemons.  But no, they don't make pink lemonade--the skin is pink, but the juice isn't.  Pink lemonade used to be made from crushed red sumac berries.  Odd, since the only time most of us hear the word "sumac" it's usually preceded by the word "poison".  This potentially poisonous concoction was then sweetened with maple syrup.  Then the sumac market dried up (okay maybe not all of it is poisonous), and maple syrup is ridiculously expensive because it takes so darn long, so now we have . . . a pink version of lemonade.  Sometimes made sweeter than the yellow stuff.  But preferably in a powdered form with a Crystal Light logo on the pack.

My favorite "form" of lemonade is probably the fruit juice-added kind.  Strawberry lemonade, pomegranate lemonade, cranberry lemonade.  Put some sugar on the rim of the glass while you're at and add one of those frou-frou little umbrellas.  It's like summer in liquid form.

As for my evening drinking habits, it seems like this would be easiest:  

BACARDI PINK SQUEEZE

1-1/2 oz. Bacardi Light Rum
Pink Lemonade
 

Pour Rum into tall glass filled with ice.
Fill with Pink Lemonade.

 I'm a fan of easy drinks like the one above.  But during my digging, I did find half a gabillion other drinks containing pink lemonade, especially at this site.  I have also found a veritable wealth of other pink lemonade recipes, including pink lemonade bars, pink lemonade cookies, and even pink lemonade pie.  Maybe I'll start getting inspired by all these great ideas and uses for pink lemonade, but in all probability I'll just go crack open my bottle of rum.

sky bar

This past Saturday night was a celebration.  A wardroom wives' (and future wives') get-together to celebrate a certain passage of time.  After eating dinner at Catch 31 and drinking wine on the beach under the watchful eye of the King Neptune, our fearless leaders had schmoozed and flirted their way into getting us access to the ever-exclusive Sky Bar.  For the most part, this place is members-only, but it's also open to Hilton guests, since it's on their 21st floor.  But I think that hotel is one of the most expensive on the boardwalk, so no one I know has ever stayed there.  It's a rooftop bar, which sounds cool in theory, but at 10pm, you can't see the ocean below anyway.  It was dark, there were lit-up pools serving as a barrier to the side railing, and there were something akin to beds (check the picture I stole from their Facebook page).  And a couch thing we sat on and quickly realized the pretty white fabric was really just a large towel slip-cover.  Rough hotel towel fabric.  Not even the plushy terry-cloth kind.  You wouldn't even be able to watch a sunset up there, considering that we're staring east into the Atlantic.

Now what type of people would pay $200 a year to frequent a bar with only two types of wine (including a disgustingly strong red), ridiculously slow waitresses dressed like they were about to take the court at Wimbledon, and pools that no one even put their feet in?  If you guessed slightly creepy old men, you are correct.  The wonky character brigade was actually the most entertaining aspect of this ostentatious place.  There was one guy--who is definitely a regular--walking around in a white boat captain's hat with various patches on it.  Kind of odd bar attire.  Then there was another guy who kept walking by our little towel-bench and counting us - pointing as he did like he was making sure all the kids are back on the bus after the class trip to the zoo.  He did this no less than three times throughout the night.  To take our focus off the creepsters, we decided to find which female patron had the shortest dress.  We found some close competition, but we decided upon a winner.  I don't think this girl could've bent over or even sat down in that thing.  And unfortunately (or probably fortunately?), I didn't have a camera.

Well, I'm  pretty sure that is my last foray into pretentious bars for a while.  The experience reminded me how glad I am that I don't have to play that single person's game any longer.  All image, no substance.  Actually, I never really had to play that game with B, so thank God for that.  But if you wanna play that game (or want a front row seat to watch it) and are of the double-X chromosome persuasion, I hear it's free for ladies on certain Thursday nights.  As for me, I'll stick to my neighborhood watering holes.