I’m Back!

Oh my goodness, oh my goodness! I took quite the break, let me tell ya. I just didn’t have much to say I guess, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t done anything since February. I’ve been a busy, busy bee, for sure!


Ok, so I’ve mostly been eating food and watching TV, but that still counts as busy in my world. Haha!





Oh, NCIS, how I love thee…let me count the ways… <3 <3 <3







<3 <3 Bacon <3 <3


TV and bacon. Does it really get any better?




Anywho, remember when I said I was going to paint my living area? Well, I totally started it! Along with my lovely assistants, I’ve painted 3 walls. Only a bazillion more to go!







I’ve also been spending a lot of time, and when I say a lot I mean basically every waking minute, with this guy. And I’m not talking about the fish.


He makes me crazy happy. And I’m still not talking about the fish.







Mom and I have taken up walking. We’re both a little jiggly if you know what I mean, but we love the bacon so perhaps the walking will keep us from becoming more jiggly. Hopefully.







Oh my…that’s all I can say.





Until next time!



Eat some bacon, it’s good for you.

Is it Crazy?

 To travel all the way across the country just so you can eat one of these?





I know what you’re thinking…yes, I could have taken a picture of this plate of awesomeness with a real camera, but that would have slowed down the stuffing it in my mouth process. Nothing, I mean nothing comes between me and stuffing food in my mouth.


This HUGE bacon cheeseburger has been on my mind like crazy lately. But you know what’s really been on my mind from this picture? That teeny tiny little itty bitty cup of macaroni salad.


It. Was. Awesome.


I could have eaten a gallon of that business!


YUM! I'm drooling just thinking about it.


The thing is, I would have to go here to get some.





And where is here exactly? McGeary’s Pub in Albany, NY, of course.


If only Albany was right around the corner…sigh…


But, I think if I put my mind to it I could totally recreate the fantastically scrumptious macaroni salad from their delicious kitchen.


It was made with tiny shells. Not the big ones like you get in your neon yellow Velveeta shells and cheese.


Not only that, but it tasted a lot like this wonderful macaroni cheese I like to buy at Wegmans when I go to visit Jesse in NY.





I am not lying when I say this is the BEST macaroni and cheese in the WHOLE world. I would say it’s even better than homemade since I’ve never had homemade.


The thing is we don’t have any Wegmans in OK or anywhere around OK for that matter. So, how’s a girl to get her fave mac and cheese other than having her best friend mail her a few boxes?


Well, I have great news! I’m pretty sure that this organic business is almost exactly the same thing and I can get it here! Yay!





So, first, I need to buy a box of this amazingness. Then, I need to figure out how to turn it into that fabtastic macaroni salad.


I’m sure I detected some mayonnaise and parmesan. Seriously, what goes together better than cheese and fat? Nothing, that’s what.


I can’t wait!

Cheeseburgers

I love cheeseburgers. Next to bacon they are my favorite food.

You know what goes great together? Bacon AND cheeseburgers!

Anyway, today I went with the parents to this burger place called Flatire Burgers. It was delish! After they re-brewed the tea. The first glass I got was iced coffee water. I don't know if you know this, but if you accidentally put a coffee filter in the tea pot instead of a tea filter it's disgusting. Nothing like Starbuck's at all.

Oh! And they had the best guacamole I've ever eaten in my entire life! Who would have thought a burger place with bicycles hanging from the ceiling would have fabulous guacamole?

I had to laugh at myself about halfway through our visit, though, because I had noticed the backs of the work shirts said, "a great place to break down." I'm sitting there staring at these t-shirts having no clue what it could possibly mean. Break down? Like dancing?

But then, all at once, like a punch in the face, I got it! Flat tire! Break down! Duh!

I worry about myself sometimes. I really do.

Have a cheeseburger. With bacon. They make you smarter.

Oh, Snap! A Thursday Edition

Not that I'm complaining about the 3 day weekend, but it really threw me off. I've been on the wrong day all week, and I totally missed Oh, Snap! yesterday. But never fear because I'm here on Thursday to right my wrongs and bring the world back into it's natural state of balance. Well, maybe not the whole world, but the part I live in anyway.

This week is a doozy, folks. We have feet, we have chicken, we have wine...wait! That sounds like a party!

{Side note} - I didn't take this with my phone (obviously). In fact, my nearest and dearest friend, the amazing Jesse, took it a couple summers ago, but I LOVE it! And I thought I would share since I'll be headed her way in just 2 short weeks! Yippee!

This was hanging on the wall at our AMBUCS Installation Banquet. I'm not sure why our VP thought I looked witchy or why I'm only worth money if I'm dead, but I thought it was neat.

Please don't turn me in, ok?

Oh wine, how I love thee, let me count the ways...

Have I mentioned I like taking pictures of my feet?

These are all from what I like to call "shopping on the cheap" stores, and I like to call this collage "collection de cheap-o and weird." I'm so creative! Ha!

I promised you chicken didn't I? That is chick-uh-fil-ay-uh and it's sitting in something that may or may not be my purse. You can't prove a thing. Besides, I already told you I'm weird.

And last, but as usual, never least the BEST thing I saw last week! The BIGGEST, GIANTEST, HUGEST, most amazing tie dye kit I've ever seen!

For the everyday low price of $18.98. Too bad the packaging lies when it says it will make 40 shirts.

I'm a professional tie dyer so I totally know these things. Just trust me. I speak the truth.

My mom and I used 3 kits claiming to make 8 shirts apiece and 1 kit claiming to make 20 shirts to make these 11 shirts. That's right, I said 11. Not 44.

I suppose you could get that many if you barely put any color on your shirts at all or if you kept adding water, but then you don't get this vibrant, poppy, zingy, amazing color! And I love color!!

Told you I'm a pro...

McAlister's Monday

Ah, Monday. The beginning of the week. The reminder that I have to work for a living. The most evil of all days....well, really you aren't ALL bad. You're just a day, after all, and besides I almost always go to McAlister's on Monday so I almost always have that to look forward to. So, see? You're not ALL bad, you're just not as good as say, a Friday or a Saturday, but you'll do.

A couple months ago I wrote about my love for McAlister's Tea. Specifically unsweet tea with no lemon or as I like to say: Tea, straight up, on the rocks, no lemon. Now, being from The South or close to The South, anyway, you would think I would be all over the sweet tea, but sweet tea is right up there with lettuce in my book. The hatred I feel for it is deep and knows no bounds.

Why does it know no bounds? It's your lucky day because I'm here to tell you!

First, I would just like to say that the amount of sugar which goes into the making of tea to make it sweet is utterly ridiculous, and in my personal professional opinion if someone is going to drink something with a pound of sugar in it they might as well drink a full flavored soda (for those of you who don't speak Amanda-ese, that means non-diet) or one of those nasty energy drinks or a melted Popsicle in a glass.

So this one time...not at band camp I was spending the night at a friends house. Her name was Misty and she lived across the street from my grandma. She was older than me and like so totally cool with her acid washed jeans, oversized t-shirts, neon scrunchies, and crimped hair. I would beg my grandma to let me spend the night with her before we would leave on our Summer harvesting excursions and be gone for 3 months (I really need to make a point of telling that story so people won't think my parents ignored me for months on end). Well, one evening I head on over to Misty's house and she asks me if I would like a drink. Since I didn't want to be rude and I'm always thirsty, I said, "sure!"

What you need to know before I continue is that my entire family drinks unsweet tea. My grandma's on both sides make unsweet tea and my parents make unsweet tea and I make unsweet tea. We're just one big family of unsweet tea makers/drinkers.

Misty hands me this big glass of iced tea and I take a huge gulp. Yum! My little heart soared. I had never tasted anything so delicious in all of my years. After I inhaled the whole glass I asked her what it was and she said, "sweet tea, of course." My brain did not comprehend what she was saying. "What is sweet tea?" I asked so she told me, "you brew the tea like usual and then add sugar making it sweet." I couldn't believe how easy it was to make this amazing beverage. I wanted more and more and more. I drank sweet tea that night until I was floating in it. And then I went back to grandma's house and proceeded to make my own sweet tea.

But, I didn't know the proper measurements...

First, I poured what was probably 20 ounces of regular tea.

Then I began to scoop in sugar by the tablespoon.

I added one...

And then another...

And then another...

And then another...

And then another...

And then another for good measure.

By the time it was all said and done I had about 6 tablespoons of sugar in a 20 ounce glass of tea.

I gulped that sweet sugary bit of bliss like it was the last drop of moisture on Earth, and then I started to feel sick. Really sick. Vomit-y sick.

I spent the next few hours in the bathroom hugging the toilet.

I don't remember what my grandma was doing during all of this, but this was the same grandma who tried to force me to eat lettuce so maybe she was standing by and letting me learn my lesson. Who knows?

What I do know is this: I despise sweet tea. What I once, for one whole day, thought was the most delicious beverage to ever roll across my tongue is now hated as much as the dreadful lettuce. If there is so much as a speck of sugar or sweetener in my tea I will taste it, I will gag, and I will refuse to drink anything from that glass until it is washed. I also know that I have issues and I can admit it, but as I always say, it's just part of my charm. :-)

Blaze-a-thon

Ok, I'm finally going to write about this before I forget. The first weekend of April for as many years as I can remember, my dad participates in the Blaze-a-thon at the Elk's Lodge. It's a BBQ contest for anyone who is willing to pay the entry fee. Friday night is for fun and Saturday is for competition.

From my perspective, it's one big BLD extravaganza!

This is my Daddy's smoker. He built it with my Pop-po (his dad) in the late 90s. I love it and the memories it carries. Plus, it smokes up some mighty tasty BLDs.

And, here's my Daddy. The head chef. He always looks like that when I'm around. I think I confuse him...

This is Robbie, aka my second dad, aka sous chef.

This is my mom. Isn't she adorable? She's the keeper of the peace and the placer of the meat upon the lettuce. It's a very important job.

And...my younger, but not so little, brother. He's the fire watcher and giver of his all mighty (or so he thinks) opinion.

Placing meat upon the lettuce. You know, lettuce is really only good for decorative purposes. Those of you who are eating it thinking it's healthy are being fooled with every bite.

What?! That's not a BLD! That's chicken! What is going on?! ...we interrupt this broadcast to bring you breaking news. Apparently there are wimps in this world who can't handle the pork, the BLD, the bringer of bacon. They think they need chicken. Please provide it and perhaps we will give you a ribbon. If you win. If not, you can feel good about yourselves for placing the blasphemous chicken so neatly upon the lettuce...

Ah, pork ribs. The fourth best thing next to bacon. Y-U-M

They're so sweet and innocent upon their bed of lettuce. And delicious.

Oh. My. Word. Look. At. That. Specimen. Of. Beauty. Pork butt, aka pork shoulder, aka the third best thing next to bacon. YUMM-O

Please don't mind my drool. I just love pork!

And now, I will show you a few of the other smokers I deemed worthy of snapping a picture.

Mmmm, nothing quite like smoked dinosaur for breakfast.

And now, something so completely and utterly rude and crude I will show it to you without commentary because I'm sure you don't need me to point out the obvious...

I'm not going to comment. I swore I wouldn't. I'm just not going to do it.

Oh, who am I kidding???

Who builds an anatomically correct dog smoker complete with balls???

I'll tell you who. Men.

Now that I've gotten that out of my system, I hope I've left you salivating for some scrumptious BLDs, and seriously considering removing lettuce from your diet, but most of all I hope you're wondering just what IS the best thing next to bacon?

And once again, to all of you non meat eating individuals out there, I'm sorry I've subjected you to this awesome display of cooked meat, but I just couldn't help it. I don't understand people who willingly eat lettuce and I never will.

Raw vs. Rare

Last Thursday I had to give a presentation in my Business Communication class which I despise in case you were wondering, but I only have 6 hours of school left after this semester so I'll just suck it up. My presentation was over hotels using social media, specifically how Marriott uses Twitter to interact with past, present, and future guests. Sounds interesting, right? Yeah, I know...it's not that interesting, but lie, ok? It will make me feel better.

Anyway, our teacher had told us that we needed to open with something "attention grabbing." So, I thought back in my life to something that happened to me at a hotel that has stuck with me, and I thought, "Yes! I can tell that story about how I ate a raw hamburger AGAIN and my classmates can't do anything about it! They can't get up and leave the room. They have to sit there and endure it. Yes, yes, yes!"

And now, because I love this story sooooooooo much I'm going to tell it again. Ha!

It was 1993 and I was 10 years old. My grandparents were taking me to Disney World. I was pumped. I wasn't thrilled about flying so much, though. Since the first time I flew I've thought planes were destined to crash no matter what and I fear for my life each time I step foot on one. Plus, they plug up my ears so I feel like I'm in a windy tunnel for hours. Ok, so, I wasn't thrilled about flying, but I did it and when we arrived in Florida we went to our hotel where that night we ate at the hotel restaurant. I, being a 10 year old, ordered a cheeseburger. What else would a 10 year old girl order? A steak? Lobster? No way! That's fancy pantsy stuff!

I'm sitting at the table next to my grandma and all around us are the people we had travelled to Florida with. They were all older and I was the only child. Talk about awkward. And then all of a sudden the waiter brings me my delicious, oh so amazing cheeseburger! My mouth was watering with utter and complete joy. I couldn't wait to take that first bite. It was going to be the BEST cheeseburger EVER! But then...

I thought, "this cheeseburger tastes funny, and it feels funny on my tongue, and something just isn't right..."

I looked down at my delicious, oh so amazing cheeseburger and it was RAW!!!

I said, "Grandma! Grandma!" All the while she's shushing me because she doesn't want me to cause what she calls a "stink" in front of all of her friends. Finally, she pays attention to me and looks down at my raw, bloody, barely cooked cheeseburger, and what does she do? Nothing. She wouldn't let me complain or say anything. My poor little 10 year old self was devestated. No delicious, oh so amazing cheeseburger for this girl on that day.

For years after that incident I refused to eat meat if it had even a hint of pink. I was convinced it was raw no matter what. My dad would argue with me and say, "Amanda, there is a big difference between hamburger and steak. Hamburger should barely be pink when cooked, but steak is not worth eating if it's brown all the way through." I would say, "But, Da-ad, it's RAW." To which, he would say, "No, it's rare." Eventually, my taste buds whipped me into shape and made me realize that well done steak is just sick and wrong and I now eat a good steak cooked to a nice medium rare, but that raw cheeseburger has stuck with me for 18 years. And I'll probably still be telling the story another 18 years from now.

You know what else I'll still tell in 18 years? During the same trip to Disney World, the day we went to visit the Epcot Center, I saw a young boy get run over by a double decker bus. I didn't see how it happened, but I told everyone who would listen that his dad pushed him in front of it. Can you believe that?! What kind of horrible child was I that I would blame someone I didn't even know and had never even seen of pushing his child under a bus? I was a sick and twisted child who eats raw hamburger, that's how horrible I was.