Including the one we bought.
1. Neither of us had seen Dirty Dancing until we watched it together…. like, two years ago. I’m aware that this is absurd.
+ I have an excuse to wear neon accessories, and as we all know, neon is totally in right now. (These are called yak traks. They keep you from slipping on the ice when your 65 pound dog decides you aren’t walking fast enough.)
+ Related: fighting gravity is an amazing ab workout. When you forget the aforementioned yak traks and have to save yourself from slipping every 15 seconds while walking, you might as well have done 100 crunches.
– I’ve learned the origin of the phrase “old man winter”. It refers to my face, after the dry, cold air shrivels up my skin and makes me look like an old man. This one’s a toss up — a pro because I learned something new; a con because MY FACE LOOKS LIKE AN OLD MAN.
+ Everyone has feathers stuck to them (from their puffy jackets). This is a pro simply because it amuses me.
– That moment when you’re driving 60 on the highway and the car in front of you throws a snowball at you. SERIOUSLY. Snow that’s been sitting on the car is whipped off and flung at the car behind them at a rate of 60 mph and you’re just minding your own business, singing along to Ke$ha when WHAM, a giant snowball hits your windshield and causes you to scream and swerve and Ke$ha just keeps on singing like nothing happened. That’s a really neat trick, winter.
+ Also driving related, my winter accessories have made me a nicer driver — it’s kind of difficult to make rude hand gestures while wearing mittens. This is crucial, because Minnesota drivers are … special.
+ I haven’t seen a bug in months. If this long winter business means I never have to see a cockroach again, I’m down.
I think you’ll see the pros clearly outweigh the cons.
The first time I left Minnesota was in July, about a month and a half after we moved here. It was hot, really hot, and Minnesotans’ complaints about the humidity were contagious. I — born and raised in the sticky swamps of Houston and Baton Rouge — was tempted to agree that the summer was humid.
Then I stepped off the plane in Memphis in July, and remembered what humid actually feels like.
Y and I thought we would have a similar experience last month, when we visited Louisiana for the first time since moving. We would be boarding the plane in 2 degree Minneapolis and stepping off the plane in 75 degree New Orleans. The thought of breathing 75 degree air made me giddy.
But when we emerged onto the jetway in New Orleans, it wasn’t the temperature that struck me. There was something in the air that enveloped me; it was thick and heavy.
It was the SMELL OF FRIED FOOD.
Sure, Minnesota claims to be purveyors of fried food, with their eight million kinds of fried food on a stick at the state fair. But that happens once a year. If you’re going to claim something, own it — the dirty south owns fried food year round and has the obesity rate to prove it and apparently makes fried chicken on the tarmac at Louis Armstrong International Airport.
Just a few of the delicious things we ate while in Louisiana:
And some of the not so delicious.
Springtime in Louisiana is more than spring, it’s crawfish season. For some reason, the entire state decides it would like nothing more than to gather around a table that smells like rotting fish, and peel apart a red cockroach with a shell and suck oily yellow meat out of it.
I’ve never been able to get over the rotting fish smell, so, I’ve never eaten a crawfish. I decided on this trip that I should try it. It was about as gross as that time I ate raw herring in Amsterdam.
(By the way, once we made our way through the fried food smog, it was an amazingly beautiful day. While we waited for our ride, we sat down in a patch of grass as people looked at us strangely. I’m pretty sure before that day, the only thing that grass had been used for was smoking and discarding of cigarettes. )
01. There’s nothing cuter than when Ike sits down next to you, gazes up at you with his giant brown eyes… and farts.
02. This is last weekend’s lesson, but because I like you, I’ll share anyway: it is possible to throw a baby shower for couples that doesn’t make the guys want to gauge their eyes out. The secret: no games, serve beer (we chose craft beer with some kind of baby-related-ish name), pizza, and a mocktail for the mom-to-be), and leave the presents at the door. Proceed like any other party. Maybe play the N Sync Pandora station.
03. March is apparently Minnesota’s snowiest month. I learned this from the beer expert at the nicest liquor store ever… so it must be true. No, I don’t want to talk about it. The snow, not the liquor store. We can definitely talk about the liquor store if you want.
04. Meeting a lot of bloggers at the same time is sort of terrifying. As a side note, I don’t think I had heard the words “bloglovin” or “google friend connect” out loud until this weekend. Try saying them out loud. It’s weird, right?
05. The following ingredients make an amazing cocktail: white pepper, lavender, chamomile infused vodka, ginger beer and lemon bitters. It’s called the raven, and you should come visit me and we can order it at Birdhouse.
06. RELATED: Moving somewhere with tons of restaurants sounded really amazing… until it became a full time job trying to keep up with all the places I want to eat. It’s so intensive that I have to use an app. Life is hard.
One day last month, Y accusingly pointed out that I needed to post in my blog.
“Give me something to write about,” I retorted.
He delivered, but I kind of wish he hadn’t
See, Y’s new hobby is brewing beer.
His other hobby is not taking out the trash… which is actually a hobby we share.
And that’s why you always
leave a note take out the trash.
So one snowy day (which probably wasn’t actually -20 degrees because I don’t think it can snow when it’s that cold), I saw on Twitter that the Global Market was holding a Global Soup Cookoff featuring a soup from each stand at the market. I was obviously in.